#pure trial and error motherfucker!

[southern--downpour]

hello Virgil when you have the time you should explain your coloring and lining process

they way i do both lines and ESPECIALLY color changes basically every time i draw but yeah sure! im also p bad at explaining myself so idk if this is gonna make sense to anyone but me!

(first off dont draw on pure white canvases!! itll psyche you out and intimidate you because of the blank canvas, also its fucking eye bleeding!! i like going with a medium/light grey but ive seen people use a beige or light brown too just anything but pure white. also helps to just get SOMETHING onto the page if your having trouble w/ artblock, doesnt matter if its good it just has to be something u can work with. trust the process 100% and if it doesnt turn out good theres no shame in restarting from scratch, at least the idea is out of your head and easier to work through what was wrong)

my sketches are usually super messy and i go through like two to four different layers of refining it before starting lineart, and with lineart i usually use either a simple hard round brush or a sketchier one if im doing painting? my go-to ones are the default G-Pen in clip studio edited a bit to fit how i like pen pressure and 1834113 and 1761353 in the asset store but i like messing w/ whatever i can find on there and whatever feels fun at the time lmao so its not very consistent

i try and keep my lines pretty thin on the inside and thicker on the outer edge? as well as adding bits of cross-hatching and hatching both in the lines and when i go in with shading!

i keep my lineart brushes pretty minimal with the pen pressure as im not the best with my pen control and just change the size of pen as i go lmao. More prevalent when i'm doing super clean lines for comics and not sketchy ones like this for painting but its generally the same, i'm not the neatest person when it comes to lines

I draw a lot of the individual parts (head, facial features, hair, clothes, hands, etc.) on separate layers so if something looks wrong i can either wipe the layer entirely or go in with the transform tool and not mess with the rest of the lineart in the process lol

(also i saw someone keep the eyes and facial features visible under the hair but erase where they meet the lines for the hair? and just yoinked it for myself because it looks super nice lmao.)

starting colors is almost always the same, where i just go in and block in the base color for each part (skin, hair, clothes, etc.) on a separate layer to make going back and editing colors a lot easier. with painting like here i also go in and add basic shading, mostly around the skin! usually i add a darker & warmer color around the cheeks, nose, eyes, fingertips and joints as well as in places where theres shading like under the head and under the nose.

also in the darkest parts of the shading like under the head/neck and under the nose i like to add a light bluish/purpleish color very lightly as a bounce light! it doesnt always fit with the piece but it does look very nice when i can make it fit so i try to remember to do that lol.

(I dont take many progress shots or timelapses so i apologize for not having the best reference images lmao)

if im doing painting, after finishing the base colors & light shading i put everything ive done into one folder and make a clipping mask over top of it and paint over it!

i usually add more detailed shading + heavier highlights on places like the nose and edges of the skin showing to make it look nice and shiny lol

(i dont have any recent drawings i can show progress pics of but just trust me on this) if im doing cell shading though i do the same thing with putting the lineart and colors into a layer, but add a multiply layer on top of it and pick a pretty saturated color to go in with the shading. if i have a background i try and keep in mind what colors are in the background and what the lighting situation is to make sure the characters blend into the background more realistically. also airbrush tool and the add glow layer is your best friend in this situation

usually after that i go back and color the line art! I pick the darkest color in a part of the drawing like the clothes or hair, make it warmer and darker and go in on the innermost parts of the lineart with it and keep a lot of the outer lines black for contrast

then i just go completely fucking ham with overlay layers and gradient maps lmao, they ARE the fucking best and are usually what i use to finish off a drawing lol.

usually i use a combination of just fucking with the default "sky" graidents in clip studio or one set i got from the asset store (1814319) on a soft light layer at like, 10-30 opacity because it gives it a REALLY nice look. again just keep in mind the lighting situation (darker night? daylight? funky bright colors?) and just go until it looks good lol.

that's basically it? though tbh i tend to just grab onto whatever technique or tip i saw on tiktok or someone on youtube do and use that, as well as changing how i color hair/skin depending on what i think looks nice at the time. none of my shit is consistent what so ever so i just kinda change things or try new brushes/coloring styles on the fly if i think it looks nice lmao. pure essence of fuck around and find out every time i open clip studio

really hope this makes sense to anyone but me and hope this was helpful!

#virgil arts #virgil asks #long post #(?) #honestly best tip is just browse the clip studio asset shop and try as many brushes as u can #and just watch every coloring tutorial u can find on yt or tiktok or wherever #just try shit! #eventually youll find stuff you really like and wanna go with #my entire style is a mish mash of my favorite shows or comics or artists styles that ive yoinked and blended together #(((((specifically stole the way abd illustrates draws faces if u want to know how i draw faces just binge his yt channel))))))) #((((also i go tt the way i draw hair 100% from ikimaru and the general homestuck fandom back in the day)))) #also one of the best bits of advice ive gotten is to not worry about finding a style #eventually if u just start adding cool shit u see other artists do itll just come naturally to u #pure trial and error motherfucker! #tho tbf i learn mostly via the 'trial by fire' method #where i just throw myself into something im not remotely qualified to make and figure it out as i go #because eventually if i do that enough i do in fact get really good at the thing im trying to learn! #thats how i learned background stuff! #(also. if u dont have clip studio. u can do most of this shit sans gradient maps in any program) #(ALSO CLIP STUDIO IS BABY EASY TO PIRATE BUT YOU DIDNT HEAR THAT FROM ME) #(I FOR SURE OWN A COMPLETELY LEGAL COPY OF CSP)

[dropsofletters]

how to unsubscribe to dating

SUMMARY: on april 18th, hansol likes his favorite youtuber’s instagram picture. not because of her content—though, he finds himself laughing at all of her weekly videos—but because he thinks she’s gorgeous. that is how it ends. just a like on a picture that no one will see.

three years later and after a tough break-up, the internet hates her and a misstep has hansol dragged into the drama. now, everyone thinks they are dating and what a better way to gain subscribers and have millions on views on their videos? just let them think it’s real and work on a whole season of dare videos for the world to enjoy.

only that it is not so easy, one can subscribe to a youtube channel but not really unsubscribe to falling in love.

TITLE: how to unsubscribe to dating.

PAIRING: chwe hansol x reader

GENRE: youtuber!au ; fake dating-ish!au ; youtube drama!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; idiots in love!au

WORD COUNT: 14,014 words

GENRE: fluff ; humor ; drama ; angst if you squint ; suggestive

NOTE: this was a kofi request! if you want me to write anything, you can go over there and request something from me.

The secret to color theory is that there are primary colors, and the rest are just blend-able shades that would not exist without bases, foundations and ‘trials-and-errors’. In some sense, we correlate the color of our lives to that primary stance—we are red, we are yellow…the intensity that we want to be. How we want to counterpart in a main role that, inherently, sometimes won’t be settled upon us. The saddening truth of being a purple, or a lime green.

She would have never imagined herself to be anything more than a yellow. She said, when she was younger, that her voice would be so high that the annoying tone that came with her made her stand out in any crowd. Yellow. And then came heartbreak, teenage years, the blending with a pure gray or a black undertone that could never get her to darken her soul. It was more like a mustard yellow. Lulled. Not as bright. Just wishing upon standing out again, blending nicely with everyone, but always sticking out like a sore thumb. Hard to look in the eyes.

For the past two months, she felt like she was back to her bright yellow. To smiles with all teeth, shared with Jay as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder; to late-night talks with the phone screen glaring across her vision as she whispered small ‘I don’t want to go’s. Relatively, that comes to a stop. Because, in the eyes of a man that she dated with the dumbfounded hope to finally meet the love of her life, she was never yellow. God, he’d cringe at the mere sound of the Coldplay song. She was brown.

As in shitty brown.

Jay should be better than this. In actuality, after how everything fell down with a break-up text that he never really responded to, she doesn’t think he’s better, but hey, common sense is a thing still, isn’t it? As a YouTuber, quite like her, who shared the same interests and niche with a commentary channel based on pop-culture, one would think that he would not incorporate their ‘not-that-talked-about’ relationship in a Tweet. Though, maybe she had seen him as a bright blue, when he’s nothing but—at best—a plum or a dark gray.

You know, like having concrete between your teeth. Not that pleasurable, neither something she wants to try again.

@notthatjay_lee: how does that song go? a, b, c, d, e, f…thank you for wasting my motherfucking time.

She chuckles. Actually, full-on laughs when sitting on the counter at her kitchen, trying or supposedly about to edit her newest video commenting on Disney’s old shows and how she binge-watched them on a brim. Not that the viewers should know that she watched the entirety of Hannah Montana in a week because she was going through a break-up and crying for the asshole that Jay Lee is, but she needed to update after being a month away.

She continues scrolling, watching the thread that has formed in the tweet and the hundreds of comments that tag her. They weren’t precisely out as a relationship, but it was known. They went to conventions together, appeared in pictures with fans tagged together. It wasn’t hidden under the rug, but it was also not blasted out of proportion like Jay is doing right now.

He responded to a fan.

@jaysassissick: We are here for you, Jay! I can’t believe what some bitches can do for fame.

@notthatjay_lee: imagine getting cheated on by someone who can’t even reach a million subscribers. lol. can sadly relate.

“You just didn’t…” She mutters to herself, standing up and closing her laptop with a bang. More notifications pop up, from all social media that she could muster. Pictures tagged of the two of them together coming up with headlines that read commentary-channel YouTubers feuding. Cheating. Cheater, out of all things.

And that’s the thing about women. If they are not colors that blend well with the primary ones, like men expect to be, they are tarnished and burned to ashes to stay in the ground. That was her case, in which her silence was the ignition of a chain of events that now are out of her reach. None of those people that keep harassing her online can know that Jay had been distant the past month; that he’d spend more of his days running away from her than actually trying to put effort into the relationship.

That it’d be more looking through social media to see him commenting on pictures of his supposed ‘friends’ wearing bikinis and his phone hidden with his face down whenever they were together. It was not confirmed, of course, she didn’t have enough proximity with him, neither did they live together for her to confirm that her suppositions were true, but something she knows. Jay is not a saint, neither is she for the rage that builds within her like a Lego house that burns with the unsatiable need of revenge.

She almost believes that the best way to go about this is making it as public as he is. However, she knows she’s better. Yellow, bright, shining, as she has always been, just shadowed by someone who was envious of how burning her colors could be. Hence, she puts her phone down after turning it off, quite like he did whenever a fight ensued between the two and he would play the victim card with a pout to his lips. She thinks about it—the video she is supposed to edit, the pictures on her phone she has yet to delete and the revival, that word that speaks about new beginnings and definitely, a smirk that tells the past that she’s doing much better.

For now, she’s just alone in her apartment. With a bowl of noodles that has gone cold and a heart that is palpitating far too fast, for heartbreak isn’t easy, much less when it’s this open, but she can think of ways of getting back to Jay, whether the public knows it’s directly thrown his way or not.

She owes this man nothing.

“Jeonghan, I need you recording my shit. Not looking at your phone.”

With a hand quipping closed as if asking for Hansol’s lips to remain shut, Jeonghan remains as relaxed as he had been when they started recording this weekly’s recap. Though, while Hansol had been stumbling over his lines—as per usual on a Saturday morning, that’s the only time they could meet up because Seungcheol was going on a trip this weekend for his cousin’s wedding—, Jeonghan had frankly lost his mind to whatever is showcased in his phone. So far in the text he’s reading, which Hansol is certain is not a book, that he leaned back on one of the love seats in Hansol’s office, propped his knees to his chest in fetal position and lurked through whatever caught his interest like a lion looking for his prey.

“The moment you can get a word out without stuttering is the moment we start recording.” Jeonghan runs a hand through his black hair, covering the rudeness of his words with a soft smile. Hansol knows better than to take Jeonghan’s words close to heart, but still.

“I just needed some more coffee.”

Seungcheol enters the room then, with a new Starbucks drink since Hansol decided to steal his. “You drank my macchiato.” With a slap on the back of Hansol’s head, the man takes a seat on the other empty love-seat, as if there is not a whole video to be recorded and posted on Monday. “But Hansol’s not wrong. I have to get on that plane at four and it’s nine in the morning. We can get through this video if we just start recording it.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond and Hansol takes this time to sigh deeply and toss his head back. Things were easier when posting a YouTube video wasn’t so…meticulous. At the beginning, just over eight years ago, Hansol had posted a video on social media that had gotten quite visibly viral. He had over a million views in just fourteen hours, breaking records somehow, making it to meme accounts and Vine compilations. Stupid as it could get, it was a video of Hansol wearing a swimming hat and those aesthetic sunglasses that resembled John Lennon’s style, with Jeonghan zooming in on the frame and him saying: ‘bitch’ before the video came to an end.

It had literally no context, but he made a living out of it.

That’s how he launched his career, changed the name and created an online persona. He called himself Zach, sporting bright and quite frankly unfitting outfits and making meme weekly recaps. He spoke about what was new on the Internet, made fun of some videos, never quite made it to the commentary channel spectrum but became a voice that over ten million people had subscribed to. No one knew that his real name was Hansol, or that he wasn’t as outspoken as he was in his videos. Never an opinion that breaks or makes a room.

Jeonghan grabs the coffee mug from Seungcheol’s hold, ignoring the man’s complaints to take a sip. “I think I have a topic we need to add to this week’s review.” He finally pulls away from his original position, biting down on his lip like he does when he has an idea that he can’t keep on the depths of his chest. “Have you heard about the newest drama with Jay Lee?”

Hansol crosses his arms across his chest, sitting on the edge of the desk that holds his computer, always in front of him in his videos. “Jay…Lee? Doesn’t ring a bell for me.”

“You know, the TikTok guy who makes POV’s videos.” Jeonghan urges on, tossing a glance towards Seungcheol who finally snatches his drink before giving a curt nod.

“Even I remember who he is.”

“How many guys don’t make ridiculous videos on TikTok?” Hansol prompts, only to have Jeonghan sighing.

“He was known on YouTube for his music videos and parodies. You know how that went a little bit downhill lately, so his niche has changed. Makes videos every once in a while.” Jeonghan includes in his narrative, turning his phone around to show a picture of a man he now recognizes. Damn, even in his beginnings as a YouTuber, Jay Lee already had a bunch of people under his name. With long, tossed back black hair, tattoos that scatter across a slim, tall body and a pair of glasses that always rest on the brim of his straight nose. He was of interest for a bunch of people on the Internet, even to this day.

“What about him?” Hansol questions, only to have Jeonghan clapping his hands once.

“He’s burning the Internet with his latest allegations. He was dating a commentary channel YouTuber, though they never accepted it, but he’s making the allegations that she cheated on him and has announced that he’s releasing a diss track to explain everything.” He’ll never understand how the world revolves around drama, but Jeonghan gives more explanation by saying her name and giving him the phone once again.

The picture shows a couple together with a fan, and he recognizes her with far more ease. He remembers last summer, when he would spend most of his afternoons laughing about her videos with the graphics she made. Very rarely does her face show on her videos, but she draws a little character that speaks, through her commentary, about the topic at hand. Always a show. A video. A meme. Hell, he thinks that she once talked about him on a video years ago.

Jay is much taller than her, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, squishing their cheeks together as they hold peace signs, her hand interlocked with the young fan’s. They didn’t look necessarily in love, but close enough to it. Like the beginning of a love that had just started to flourish.

“What has he said?” Seungcheol questions, now interested in the topic.

“What hasn’t he said? He has spent the past three days creating a YouTube war. He has even dropped her name a few times, tagging her, asking her to be upfront because she has escaped the internet. MIA and all.”

Hansol can’t imagine how tough it is to go through a break-up where the other person is trying to plot everyone against her. Sure, he’s not certain if she cheated, but he takes his own phone to look through Twitter, seeing him post pictures of the two of them together—clearly personal, never seen by anyone but them—, adding thread after thread of how in love he was with her and how badly she broke his heart. It seemed like he was bleeding through a wound that was never quite as open as he made it out to be.

“What an asshole.” He mutters, getting closer to the computer and writing something down on his script. “I think we can add it to this week’s episode. The last bit. Just for a few clicks and because…he’s really getting out of control.”

“And everyone is supporting him.” Jeonghan adds, shrugging his shoulders. “Would be nice to give an opinion that isn’t sided one way or the other.”

“…That’s putting Hansol against a man that has just about the same following as him. Including him in the war isn’t going to do the channel any good.”

Hansol looks up at that moment, raising his eyebrows and weighting the options. Seungcheol isn’t wrong, but he knows this is a topic that needs to be talked about. Break ups on the internet. Where some people post videos crying and hugging for the last time, while others take their following to side with them as if it was a parent going through divorce.

“Yes, but this whole Zach character is about that. Speaking about what I think is wrong, right or funny…and these tweets? Stupid, borderline funny, over-line worrying.”

Seungcheol takes a sip of his macchiato, bringing a shoulder up in nonchalance. “I’ll have to take care of the mess after, but if that’s what’s going to bring the views, go for it.”

Is he really doing it for views, though? Or maybe, he just thinks it’s inherently wrong to destroy someone’s career that way, until they are too afraid to go on the internet because of hate. Jay Lee will have to learn a lesson about being made fun of.

@notthatjay_lee: glad to know the mystery’s resolved. @chwethatzach you’ve cleared the rumors up. song coming in three days!

Hyeji had said it seven months ago when she started liking Jay, as she flipped on tarot decks, spread them neatly on the coffee table between them, speaking through a cloud caused by the blunt between her lips. Jay Lee’s an imbecile, he’ll break your heart. She didn’t listen, because in her mind all men go through a phase of being overly-confident and, quite frankly, assholes. She opted to believe that Jay was willing to change and talk, venturing into a friendship and then, into whatever kind of relationship they had held that now is a complete disaster.

Her best friend, Moon Hyeji, runs her fingers through her dirty hair after showing her the tweet that Jay had just posted. Tagging her after, nonetheless. Hyeji, as wild as she is, with long locks of wavy hair and a rose tattoo on the column of her neck, had called Jay just a day ago, telling him to back off before she took legal actions. Taking it from the woman who is the daughter of one of the richest men in the country, a businessman nonetheless, Jay should have taken it a little bit more seriously. Hence, he doesn’t.

“What the fuck do I even have to do with that dude?” She questions, finally standing up from her position on Hyeji’s lap. Ever since this issue went to absolute hell, with the diss track incoming and a handful of people making drama videos about the timeline of their very short-lived relationship, Hyeji had travelled all the way from London to get here and eat piles of ice cream while bad-mouthing Jay. Only that it didn’t help her the slightest.

She wants to talk, but she doesn’t know how to go on about the issue. Fueling the problem even more if just going to have his fans speaking with more fervor, and just like how he doesn’t have proof of her cheating, she also doesn’t have anything to defend herself with about not cheating.

“There’s a video, apparently…” Hyeji roams through her phone with long nails before she displays her screen on the TV in front of them. The image that loads is of the start of a video of someone she knows somewhat well, for she really likes Zach Chwe’s videos, or at least, she can catch up on them every once in a while.

Zach has always been a little different than most. He feels like a true friend that one can talk with as he launches in that green chair of his, always wearing clothes that leave everything to the imagination and would have everyone talking about him. He’s wearing a tie-dye hoodie, as per usual in some of his videos, with an apron on top of it that reads ‘the chef’s dead’ and a pair of sunglasses that rest on top of his brown hair. His soft eyebrows move with each of his words, firstly greeting his audience, then speaking about the newest memes found on the internet.

“He must have spoken about your issue with Jay.”

“How so? He never talks about drama.” She asks, getting a look from Hyeji who clears her throat soon after.

“People believe he’s the one guy Jay is saying you cheated with.” Her best friend whispers, moving through the video, getting fast glimpses of Zach laughing, tossing his head back, speaking through slim lips and using his ring-cladded hands to express his points. Only three minutes before the video ends does the image of Jay with her and a fan comes on the screen, earning Hyeji a few taps on her shoulder.

“There! There! Stop the video there!”

The darkness of her room, reeking the smell of orange chicken and diet soda, is bathed in the light of Zach Chwe as he rolls on his chair and says: “There’s a reason us men are called assholes and I think it’s because Jay Lee exists. Okay, I’m not anyone to be putting my opinion here and I usually stay away from these things, so I’m not sure if she cheated or not…but isn’t it, at least, the best thing you can do to spell correctly as you’re dissing your ex?”

Then, the screen shows screenshots of Jay’s tweets, bathed in hate, writing in the worst possible way and yet, with a few errors.

She hadn’t noticed that as she got drowned into the drama that he had created, so she smiles for what feels like the first time this week.

“You don’t even spell that well, Zach!” Someone shouts from the background, and she knows Zach Chwe normally has his friends putting in some words for spice on his videos, but she actually laughs along with him.

“More of a reason to critique, I guess.” He shrugs his shoulders. “But hey, remember those Facebook videos we talked about a few weeks ago? If you haven’t checked it out, I’ll leave the link to that video on the description, but we were making fun about those mom videos where they make their daughters fearful of sending nudes because some creep will post them on their Facebook page. I thought men like that didn’t exist, until I figured out this whole Jay Lee thing. He’s a hair away from posting a picture of her feet, I tell you so.”

The video doesn’t last much long after that, with Zach making fun of Jay’s tweets and then, the camera zooming in on his face for an outro recalling his beginnings online. However, Hyeji has fallen silent, with her knees propped under her chin, using her free hand to caress the column of her ear, as always, seeking for a way of making her feel better through touch.

“This sounds…like the internet is going insane.” Hyeji then reaches for her phone, shaking in the air. “Come on, unlock it and turn on your notifications again!”

“What? Why?” She is not sure she’s ready to lurk through social media once again, Hyeji has been doing that for her instead, like her little manager, blocking the hate that gets real and personal.

“Jay is playing it off as if Zach Chwe is the one that you’re dating, or the one you cheated on him with.”

“I didn’t cheat on him—

“I know, but he’s trying to get views and I need to know if Zach’s team contacted you, so open that phone and get a pair of balls for what we’re about to face.”

A pair of balls would be little to what she needs once she opens Twitter and Instagram.

On Instagram, she has been tagged on a bunch of pictures. Headlines that include her profile picture on YouTube and Zach Chwe’s picture. Titles that go on the rampant lie of ‘YouTube Stars Zach Chwe and OfDrawingsAndWords on a relationship!’ scattering across her vision on every platform she comes across of.

“I’m doomed. Jay keeps winning no matter what I do—”

“Because you haven’t said anything. You’re protecting him even when he’s trying to destroy you.” Hyeji advices, pushing on her Instagram notifications until she sees it, a direct message from the YouTuber who is implicated on this drama with her, nonetheless. “So, you either take the reigns right here, right now or Jay Lee is going to drown your career before it even reached the shore.”

Shaking fingertips reach for the Instagram message, closing her eyes tightly until she opens it.

“Read it.”

“Come on…” Hyeji trails, clasping the phone in her hands. “I know it’s been tough, but I don’t need you hiding away.”

“I’m scared! This guy has nothing to do with me!” She screeches, slapping her hand on her shoulder only to have Hyeji looking at her. With that softness that characterizes her under all her strength.

“Alright…” Hyeji whispers, soon after reading out loud. “Hey, it’s Zach Chwe. I’m sorry that my comments involved us in a mess bigger than what you already had going on and my team and I want to make mends on the issue I just created. Do you mind talking about it, in person or with my PR team getting in contact with you? Sorry for the inconvenience once again.”

Hyeji takes in a deep breath before tossing herself onto the half-done bed.

“We’re talking about it in person.”

“…Uh, we’re not.” She finalizes, trying to snatch her phone back but Hyeji isn’t relenting. Though, she’s not as rude as one would imagine, she still consenting by looking her way and expecting her to change her mind. “Hyeji, I don’t want to see anyone right now. Jay’s blowing everything out of proportion—”

“Reason as to why you shouldn’t hide. Zach Chwe can be a great person to have on your side right now. The internet loves him, and now they’re not as cruel. You have to see the comments, people are torn just because he is involved.”

That makes her ponder, inspecting every portion of Hyeji’s face to find some fun or joke in her features, but she’s full-on serious. Not a drop of insecurity in those quirked eyebrows. She sighs deeply, taking the phone in her hands and seeing the sign that reads ‘you follow each other’. Why is it that people naturally gravitate towards what a man can say or not, even when she has been expecting to be trusted by anyone online and no one seemed to be by her side?

No one but him and a few people. Even the friends that she had collaborated with several times had taken his side.

Hence, she starts typing, not caring about the consequences of fueling the fire a little bit more, because she’s already getting burned, but she won’t relent without a fight.

“I’m down with meeting up so we can sort out how we will go on about this. You select the place and the time. Thank you for getting in contact, by the way!”

Hyeji places a kiss on top of her head, squishing her slim cheek against her scalp.

“We will get past this, love. I swear we will.”

She doesn’t think this unreasonable love war is anywhere near over, however.

“I sure hope we will.”

Hansol thinks making ramen is an art form. He does it when he’s nervous instead of nibbling on his bottom lip or tugging his black beanie down his ears for the umpteenth time. Only he would think it was a great idea to meet with one of his favorite social media creators on a fucking convenience store, but he feels protected by the quietness and the sweet buzzing of the microwave as he wishes upon a start that the stacks of cheese that he poured on his flaming hot noodles becomes a puddle at the bottom that relishes its exquisiteness.

So, maybe, he’s a bit nervous. Reason as to why he had lost his grip a bit when pouring the cheese on the ramen basket.

It passes him how she has been able to spend weeks receiving the messages she does, but the moment he posted that video, the narrative took another turn. Hell, he even thinks he has seen some edited videos of the two of them as a supposed ‘couple’. The song has been released, heard by thousands, even more news coming up about them and he’s…surprised. About the sheltering that came from his pseudonym and how the world is torn. Now, Jay shines as a real villain and people ponder if leaving him for Hansol was the right choice.

How in the hell he got in this situation is misunderstood by him?

However, he rubs on his eye after grabbing the ramen noodles and plopping them on the nearest table, he hears the bells by the door ringing, the worker too occupied in organizing the strawberry milks to even care about her, but he does. None of her pictures online would ever compare to how she looks in real life. With a gray turtleneck for the weather, face ridden of any makeup, sweater half-tucked into her pants and yet, as her sunglasses rest on the brim of her head, she looks like a whole…dream.

She reminds him of the warmth that comes from a gust of breath on top of freezing hands when winter drops around. They are just barely reaching fall, but the weather has fallen significantly. She stands in front of him, looking away from her phone before a small smile reaches the corner of her eyes, not adding a small ‘hi’ as he does with a wave of his hand, but something to the air between them nonetheless.

“You look different when you’re not mumbling ‘bitch’ into the camera.”

Breaking the ice, warming the air, significant matters that only she can do and does in the brink of a second. Hansol plops the two bowls of ramen on the table, watching as she scrunches her nose at the cheese to stir it within the mixture, but he tries not to think too much about his decision. Maybe, she’s just not fond of cheese.

“I take that as a good thing. I don’t call anyone ‘bitch’ unless I get a really good check out of it.” Hansol jokes around, soon after widening his eyes when she quirks an eyebrow at him, the corner of her mouth barely lifting in a smirk. “Not that I’d call you anything of the like. Gosh, I’m being stupid. Uh…hi, I’m Hansol.”

“You’ve already said hi.” She prompts, picking up some of the noodles and unlike him, who has already burned the bridge of his mouth, she twirls them on the chopsticks, blows on them and munches on the cheesy treat. “But I didn’t know you were called Hansol. I would’ve sworn on my life that your real name was Zach.”

He shakes his head. “I want my real life nicely divided from who I am as a person online. Not that I am much different, but Hansol’s the name that I have on my ID and that I use for personal matters, so I don’t want to mix the two.” He shrugs his shoulders soon after, saying her name and earning a nod from her. “Okay, so, uh…to the matter at hand, right?”

“Straight to the point.” She clears her throat, giving him a smile before reaching for the diet soda Hansol had brought. “So, half the internet thinks we are dating…and that you’re that supposed side guy that I had while dating Jay.”

He shouldn’t ask. Shit, this is Jeonghan speaking in his brain, telling him to fucking ask, but he’s curious. He heard the nonsensical beat that Jay released in the form of a diss track that now has fifteen million views, so… “Did you really cheat on him or is he taking everything out of context?”

She spreads her hands across her chest, defending herself. “Here’s the thing, I am a woman. Me breaking up with a guy just because I was unhappy in a relationship directly has to mean I cheated on him. For starters, I didn’t. I liked Jay even after the break-up, obviously until the moment he decided to blow everything out of proportion.” She explains, sighing deeply after. “I didn’t, for instance. I’m sorry that you got involved.”

“No, I am the one that should be sorry.” Hansol shakes his head, rubbing his eyebrow as if something was bothering him. “It’s just—No, I’m sorry but I don’t regret it. I had to talk about it. Part of it was because obviously, it’s a trending topic, but also because…no one deserves to get the hate you’re getting right now.”

She remains silent, playing with the straw in between strawberry lips. Not an ounce of makeup and yet, the inside looks as if they were bitten to utter perfection. Hansol’s embarrassed that he has liked every picture of hers on social media ever since they started following each other.

Things that the public had sadly taken account of and had completely used against them to prove a supposed relationship.

“I don’t regret it either. That you did that, I mean.” She counterparts. “Sure, I shouldn’t be thinking about revenge, but Jay has been so distraught and the public has turned against him, while also not being on my side. They are just on your side.” With a mellowness that, somehow, he thinks should never belong to her, for the twist of her lips on a downwards motion is a terrible contrast to the smile he saw earlier. “Reason as to why my friend got in contact with one of the people from your team. I don’t have a team myself—”

“I’m surprised I even have a team, so I don’t judge you.” Hansol’s eyes twinkle, remembering the words he had shared with Seungcheol earlier. After all, he’s the manager and the one—technically, for Hansol still has his input—in charge of what is posted on his channel or not. “Seungcheol, my manager, talked to me about what your friend and mine talked about.”

Seungcheol was not that happy about the exposure that Hansol got, but after a while, Jeonghan weighted the options and became a mastermind for what the internet was aiming to see. They wanted to learn the other side of the story, just because it would be told by one of the most liked characters in YouTube as of now. Zach Chwe, venturing into the world of a person that no one would have ever thought he’d be compatible with. To break all the rumors with a show, a mini web-series for the world to gnaw at while both teams earned money.

“For the record, I know it’s a difficult thing to think about. I wasn’t in for it at first.” Hansol explains, and he’s not sure he’s ready to have a different light casted on his channel, but Jeonghan was clear to say that he wasn’t intending on a dating show or a couple’s channel. Instead, he wanted something…vague. “They just want us to work on a challenge mini-series. We’d do stuff like go to haunted houses or anything of the like. To make people wonder if we really did date or we were just in it for the show. They’d give us views, hoping to find something or any clues, and we’d leave with a good paycheck and a big question mark after what we were.”

She continues eating, pondering with fluttering eyelashes and a sigh that gets trapped on her throat. “Yeah…I’m okay with it. I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” She responds, and Hansol thinks the deal is almost over, but she continues: “You’ll have to keep in mind that while there may be a huge wave of people loving our series together, you might also get a lot of hate. Jay did a great job at—”

“I don’t care.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll come to learn I don’t care about a lot of stuff. Hate? I don’t care.” Hansol explains, giving her a soft smile. “A wanking old man can tell me I’m the worst YouTuber he has ever seen, and I won’t take it to heart. I’m not a plate to be enjoyed by all.”

“Whoa…” She whispers, plucking a lot of noodles up to show it to him. “Not only are you the antonym of a lactose intolerant person, but you’re also awfully wise.”

“You’re welcome for the visit to the bathroom later.” Hansol comments, earning well-heard laughter by her. She tosses her head back and the laugh comes out in spurts. Odd and yet, cute.

“I’ll have to get used to those comments, Z—Hansol.”

“We’ll get used to each other. We have a whole season to plan, after all.”

WE VISITED A HAUNTED HOSPITAL? | EP. 1 S1 | ZACH CHWE

She’d kill Hansol for thinking of visiting a haunted hospital as the first topic of their new show, but she’s too scared to actually want to murder him right now. What if he came back as one of those ghosts who were supposedly here? She can’t risk it.

Drops of petrichor build on forgotten walls, where once were supposedly patients that needed help but were abandoned to a beckoning fire. Hansol said on the way here that he truly doubted the events happened. If the hospital was burned down to its core, why was it still standing and why were tickets sold for people to go through it like tourists in Sydney? She doesn’t have a clue. All that she knows is that they were placed on opposite ends of the hospital, bound to meet through clues, but she hasn’t been able to move from her position under a table.

She was aware that Hansol’s team and hers, which only includes Hyejin, had insisted on having jump-scares all around. One of those jump-scares could be Jeonghan in a clown uniform, but the moment she saw it, the moment she sprinted away. Now, she has been seated there for more than thirty minutes, ignoring her next mission and the door in front of her, with a beating heart and her knees pressed to her chest.

Great, she’s about to ruin their first episode.

Beheld with destiny, she thinks she’s about to shit her pants the moment she hears that old, wooden door creak under the weight of someone entering. Caught, she’s imagined to be, unable to discern between the group of people there to add spice to the video and the actual ghosts that are supposedly in this hospital. However, the first thing she sees are a pair of converses in light green and soon after, someone is kneeling in front of her.

Hansol’s long hair is clouded by a hoodie so thick his earlobes are red, or so she thinks that’s the reason, because his hand pats on the expanded leg of her jeans. Bell jeans were in once again, and she had opted to have them on her outfit. However, Hansol’s high cheekbones lift in a smile when he counterparts:

“If you’re really trying to hide from ghosts, having half of your leg out from underneath the table is not the way to go.” Hansol spares a look at the corner of the room, perhaps pinpointing where the camera is, before she shakes her head at him. She’s still a little shaken, letting out in a trembling tone what must be the most pathetic thing he’s ever heard.

“What if this place is actually haunted?”

“I don’t know percentages, but I am sure someone has died in every possible place on earth. Here, if it’s haunted, or anywhere.” Hansol drags himself under the table, sitting down next to her and taking up the same position she has, though he presses his cheek to the upper portion of his knees. “So, as a matter of fact, every place should be haunted.”

“You’re not helping.” She adds, turning her face to look at him and my God, is Chwe Hansol actually very handsome. He’s different from Jay, with higher cheeks, rounded eyebrows, and a color that resembles honey on tea in his irises. She should look away, not feed into the idea that people have of them being together, but they were meant to act as natural as possible for this show, and looking away has never been more difficult.

“…Said my mom as I helped with the dishes, and my sister after I met her first boyfriend. Helping is not really my biggest forte, but I try.” Hansol shows a full row of teeth when he smiles, like he does it without a care in this world. He probably does. Something about Hansol tells her that he doesn’t really care what people think of him. “But I found you, so I think that’s us winning the game, isn’t it?”

“Is this a park ride for you or something? You’re all smiley and shit.” She tells him, mimicking his smile though hers is a bit more crooked, like she’s trying to push it away so it doesn’t reach him as the most dumbfounded, surprised expression.

“I like this place.”

She feigns a ringing cellphone with a purr of her lips, folding her hand to mimic a phone only to be caught in between his digits, pressed to his ear as if he’s picking it up.

“Yes, hello?” He asks, fluttering eyelashes in between sweetened laughter. One would think that someone like Chwe Hansol was a punch of pink lemonade, but knowing he’s more like a very sweetened soda is a new occurrence.

“It’s your psychologist. He’s asking for another appointment.”

Hansol chuckles at her words, putting down her hand and yet, leaving her with a tingle that awakens in the pit of her stomach and blossoms like butterfly wings across her chest, filling her in with a breath so profound that every single one of her ribs expands with glee.

“They should.” With that, he stands up,extending a slim hand that wavers its fingers for her to grab. Once she does, she’s up her feet, chest to chest with a man who looks at her with pink lips closed together, hiding the row of teeth that she had grown so fond of in just minutes, for how beautiful and calming his smile could be. “I think we should get out and get to the exit—”

What they don’t expect is for the door to bang open, irrupting on their fort and creating a tense atmosphere when they come face to face with a clown, much of the like of what It could look like. And while Hansol laughs from the moment he sees it, she doesn’t. A shout trips from the back of her throat, much like herself, as she jumps onto Hansol’s back and feels his hands contracting against her thighs, catching her just in time. Her eyes, hidden by his neck, are barely touched by the long hairs on his nape that don’t get to be trapped in his beanie, and when she mumbles for them to leave, Hansol starts sprinting like his life depends on it.

Never does he stop laughing, though, as whoever is dressed on the clown outfit follows after them. He’s secure, for some reason, even when they don’t know each other very well, something about Hansol makes her feel as though she is protected. Sheltered from a world that had always been so tough, but with him is just a tiny bit more complex. And for Hansol, that’s okay.

Something tells her that Hansol doesn’t push himself to understand the majority of things. The reason why the world goes around the sun, or why so many people choose heartbreak. He knows he’s a particle, a mere second in a clock, a reason to laugh or a momentum to flee. While she lives through memories, Hansol relishes on breaths. On moments that are here and now, enjoyable and yet, somehow dreamy in the way that they go by so fast.

She doesn’t know him much, but when they reach the exit and the sun bathes them through peaks in between gray clouds, he is still holding her. Even when Seungcheol points Hansol’s camera at them and he’s talking, he still doesn’t let go of her. She hears a faint joke, a reason to part from his neck, but lord does she wish she would not have looked away.

For his face is too close and that mole on his temple is right there, valuable enough to catch her attention.

So, she drops herself to the floor, falling on her knees and raising her hands in the air before shouting to the camera:

“Good fucking Lord, we made it!”

And Hansol laughs, like he does in these situations, but how she wishes that laugh would not feel precisely like home should feel like.

Thirteen million views and just the third episode of the series has been posted. Now, that is breaking records.

She would have never believed the world would become a big number for her. Flop or not valued by the amount of people seeing you; regardless of interest or not. She seeks for that validation—much more after the break-up—. From people who don’t really know her, but love to give conspiracies about how Hansol and she met. They say they are together, and they don’t really deny it. The closer they get through episodes, the more people seem interested in it, and while she’s in the thrive for more—fame, success, whatever the fuck it is that is sedating her, Hansol stays…the same.

He invited her over to his place. So unorganized, just like his thoughts. He leaves his coats hanging on his poor couch, picking them up per demand, with splashes of coffee on the coffee table from early this morning still forgotten. Tonight, on this Saturday night, Hansol has brought soju with himself, licking off the remaining bits of his black bean noodles from his chopsticks. She still has a bit left on her place, but she has opted to sit with her head hanging from the sofa, looking at him from upside down, maybe a bit boozed because of the alcohol he had prepositioned for ‘idea organization’.

“What if we ate noodles on a rollercoaster?” They have planned up to episode ten. The end of the season, after all. But people have been asking for another season, and while it’s not confirmed, a company had ventured into the hardships of wanting to promote them for a second season and that meant giving them ideas on a silver platter in hopes of them liking it enough to support it monetarily.

“You want a POV of us vomiting on a camera. Got it.” She drags, inspecting the way his cheeks turn maroon and how he puts his bottle of soju down, giving her a smile that, if she had to describe, would call it extremely dumb.

“When you put it that way, sounds incredibly hot.”

“Ew, Hansol.” She has gotten used to calling him that name now, a month into their venture and almost four episodes in. Her head starts thumping and with four bottles of soju, she can’t stop thinking. Hansol has almost been like a bubble; he lets her see on the outside and still, protects her in some way. She knows that the death threads are still there, as well as the ongoing rumors with Jay that include her in a love triangle, but with him, recording and a new group of people around them, she has managed to lose herself a bit more. “I can’t think straight at this moment.”

“Probably because you’re losing blood flow.” Hansol drags himself closer to her, never lifting his butt of the ground, twisting her hair in a bun that falls the moment she sits up straight. Not because he told her so, or because she was afraid of losing oxygen in her brain, but rather the reason behind it was that Hansol was a little too close to her. Enough for her to see those beautiful speckles in her eyes.

Yes, so that’s the thing…Hansol is extremely pretty.

Awfully so.

In a drunken state, that’s multiplied by a hundred.

“What if we made a ‘Show Me The Money’ parody?”

Hansol shrugs. “I’d eat you up.”

“You think so?” She slurs, pressing her cheek to the edge of the couch and almost twitching when Hansol reaches for the corner of her joggers, pulling them down where they had bunched at her ankles. That’s when his skin comes in contact with hers, wrapping entirely around that portion of her leg and letting his thumb caress the joint behind it. “Mm, don’t do that.”

“S—Sorry.” And Hansol pulls away at that moment, cheeks even more flushed with the alcohol, eyes widened. “I—I didn’t…”

“It just feels nice.” She tells him in a whisper, dozing off and letting her eyes close as the only thing she can hear in the background is the faint sound of Drake’s latest record and, of course, his calm breathing. “…And I don’t like getting used to it. You don’t know how many times I’ve gotten used to things only for them to hurt me…after…”

It’s the alcohol talking and the sleepiness losing her, because she doesn’t remember what else she had said or why she falls asleep so fast. What she does remember is what she dreams. She sees Jay in dreams, remembering the way his palm fit so snugly around her knee, and how he’d trace the underside of it with how big his hand was. Now, she sees it in third person, in some cramped-up party of the like of those he went to, with his lips spread around another woman’s, doing the same thing he did to her, and somehow breaking apart the little threads left in her heart. Because that’s what men have always done to her—hurt her until she couldn’t recognize herself.

She awakens with sweat pooling at her neckline and breaths unarranged in a manner that has her clasping the first thing she feels. Hansol has turned down the lights, his back pressed to the edge of the couch, head lulled back in a way that will probably have him aching in the morning. His brown hair spreads on top of his forehead like vices, eyelashes straight and long, jaw squared yet somehow relaxed as his lips part. He’s snoring softly, barely audibly, laying there like he wouldn’t move even if the world ended.

So, she drags her hand across his forearm, feeling every bump and mountain of slim muscle until she reaches his knuckles and touches them, shaking his hand in hopes of getting him to open his eyes.

He doesn’t, but he does hum at the mention of his name.

“Hansol…I had a nightmare.” She has them often. Each time, she looks into the shadows of the night hoping for the real monsters to appear. Not the ones that make their guest appearance in horror movies, but the ones that actually hurt her. People that tarnished her heart in ways that now has it stopping from time to time. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but could…could you please hold me? When I’m held, I can fall back asleep.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rasps out, dragging himself towards the couch as she makes him some space. He doesn’t talk about his room or taking up the bed, because he’s probably too sleepy to even care, when he places an arm under her head and lets him square a leg in between his just to make room for the two.

“I’m sorry for getting so close.”

He drags her until her face rests on his collarbone, humming what she can imagine is a ‘no’. “You’re not doing it for anything bad. It’s okay.” He whispers. “Is this tight enough?”

She looks up at him, eyes still closed. So naturally peaceful and yet, somehow blaring war noises inside her head. Ready to flee away just in case her stomach drops to the ground at the mere sight of him. “It’s perfect.”

Hansol shouldn’t feel perfect. Not if season two is ever going to happen.

Usually, the one with the cruel ideas is Jeonghan. Hyejin has finally met up to that standard. Her friend, not his, and that’s surprising. Hansol has to give her some props for the idea of the ninth episode.

‘Never Have I Ever’. He doesn’t think he has played the game since that one moment he joined college. Only recently did he get his degree, and the engineering degree normally doesn’t get invited to the kind of parties that have drinking games, but Hansol was friends with a bunch of people who would take any kind of game as a reason to drink. This one doesn’t include drinking, but it’s either eating something really nasty, laid in front of them on a picnic cloth—there are testicles in there, as far as he knows—or answering.

Hansol should be concentrated on making her eat the five meals that are meant to be eaten by her, but he is tranced by her. Has been since two weeks ago, when he decided that sharing a couch with her was a good idea. Not only did he have to walk away before she noticed that he had accidentally wrapped a hand around her waist while asleep, but he also had to fight off the thoughts that ventured into his head. He didn’t want to be the rebound, but that’s precisely what he would be if he tried to get with her. If he played the cards he does sometimes, when life is a little simpler, of rubbing the back of his neck and buying someone’s favorite Pokémon cards.

It doesn’t help that she has decided to look absolutely gorgeous while they sat on a bench, in a secluded park that Seungcheol had found fitting for filming. Roses scatter around them in the same color of red that splashes on her dress. A loving heart neckline that has him looking down and—fuck, Hansol, don’t be stupid. She’s way out of your league—

“Never have I ever…” She drags her voice while reaching into the hat that was placed nearby for them. He looks at the shape of her mouth, the length of her eyeliner and he wants to punch himself for a second. For staring with that intent, even with cameras around them. For feeling a bit protected in front of them just because everyone thinks they are dating. Or so. “Eaten or tasted earwax.”

“Do I have the face of a man that has tasted earwax?”

“Yes.” She responds, chuckling at him only to have him scrunching up his nose. He looks down at the plate that is served in front of him, this round’s beverage for anyone to enjoy. “Hansol, don’t tell me you have.”

“I’m not sure, but I was a weird kid! May have!” He tells her, picking up his chopsticks and biting into the testicles that he had repulsed from the moment the game started. She throws her head back, laughing like the child in her had awakened at his response, before she’s shaking her head and tossing the card to the side.

“You’re so nasty.”

“Tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Just because I am sure I did it as a kid as well, I’ll help you out with those testicles.” She picks up the chopsticks from his hands, giving it the slightest of bites before sticking out her tongue and dropping it to the ground. “Gross! Jeonghan, where the fuck did you find this stuff?”

“It was Cheol!”

The game continues, with the two of them a point away from either losing or winning. She has her legs spread in front of her, crossed by the ankles, waiting for him to read the card that he’s just opening when his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. Oh, this wasn’t Seungcheol. This has Hyejin’s name written all over it. He knows it because she has been wriggling her eyebrows whenever he makes his way past her, opting to tease him about the ‘obvious crush’ he has on her best friend.

“Never have I ever liked the person across from me.”

Hansol doesn’t move, and he should be drinking the broccoli lemonade that the team prepared, but she moves with a little more precision, as if her anatomy was made to act in cue. His heart stops when she grabs the glass and brings it up to those lips that had been burgundy red at the start of the recording to drink. She closes her eyes, tosses her head back, and gags at the taste, but Hansol is far too lost.

…She had liked him? Then? Now? When?

“Confessions, confessions. Always coming up from these videos.” She is more of a natural in front of the camera, taking his hand and bringing it up in the air as per a champion from a boxing fight. She has won him over, if only if she knew. “We’ve got ourselves a winner. Give a round of applause for Zach Chwe, everyone!”

Hansol can’t even smile. He’s dumbfounded, staring at her profile and seeing her grin in such an easy going way. Though, the moment they say their goodbyes from the video, she pulls away from him, clearing her throat and looking at him as if she expects an answer. One that never comes and leaves him just to stand up, excuse himself out of the park and lock himself in the nearest bathroom.

Being the rebound is not what he wants, but God, would he be lying to himself if he didn’t accept he has liked her for longer than he’d want to admit.

Two months pass by. The first season becomes a success and still, not a word has been uttered about that episode. The subscribers’ favorite episode, but the forgotten episode for those who were involved.

No one asks questions when they come together for VidCon. It feels natural, actually. She doesn’t think she would have been able to just go on her own anymore. As some kind of way the world had planned it, Hansol feels like her counterpart in whatever this is right now. Friendship, work, whatever they have garnered together that people seem to love enough to have a panel for them, where they speak to fans and take pictures together. She notices then that she’s not the only person awestruck by Hansol’s beauty, even when that’s obvious at this point. He looks like a daydream in his black t-shirt, rounded glasses and skinny jeans, smiling in pictures and even joking around with fans.

Sometimes, she just looks at him from the side and blames him for it. For letting things slide so smoothly in between the two after that forbidden episode. He never said a word, neither did he try to clear her head with a kiss to her lips or even a strict ‘no’ that would have her moving on. It’s his fault for being likeable; for giving her a necklace with her initial as a celebration when their first season became a success. For him to receive her with a bowl of noodles for every recording they had each week. For him to tag her on stupid memes on Twitter, not giving a care what anyone could say.

The venue is packed and Hansol gets a little too lost on conversations with a fan that is talking about his beginnings as a gamer—that wasn’t really good to start with—when she feels someone tapping her on the shoulder. Her hips move from the edge of their table, where an enormous poster of the publicity image for the first season of their show spreads in the background, to turn around and respond to the subscriber that was trying to get her attention. Nonetheless, like a clashing thunder in a summer day, Jay stands there looking like the oddest thing she has seen in the past three months.

Because she’s not used to him anymore. Neither has she felt like she was truly comfortable with the idea of him. He’s a few heads taller than her, with his black hair pushed back and the sleeves of his shirt dragged up to showcase his tattoos. He’s smiling when he greets her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and hugging her briefly before he pulls away. They are lucky that is not peak hour and most people have scattered to look at the music presentation that was taking place.

“Jay?” She questions, only to have him smiling proudly, like he would do whenever he got recognized in public.

“The one and only. I had to pass by when I heard you were making it to this year’s convention.” His dark brown eyes splay across the poster behind them, trailing after every detail of the image of Hansol wrapping an arm around her shoulder, both smiling at the camera as they spread their hands in peace signs, smiling gleefully. “Haven’t watched a season of the show, but I might start. It’s fucking everywhere.”

She should not talk to him, but she scoffs at his words, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest to portray just how closed she is to him, but she doesn’t miss her sarcastic smile. Not an ounce of hate is within her chest anymore, but she recalls the wounds he opened just to make bigger ones. “…Mhm, it’s not the type of show you’d watch. Too much of a big brainer.”

“Oh, come on, you know I’m smarter than I look.”

For the way he plotted the entire internet against her, she knows for a fact Jay could very much be a lawyer or an astronaut if he wanted to. Misspells or not. “I’m certain. I’ve never doubted you’re a cunning, smart little shit.”

“I like that. Might make it my new motto.” Before Jay could venture into more of a conversation, her waist is grounded by a pair of thin arms wrapping around them. Soft skin connecting with her through the fabric of her pink hoodie has her looking back to see that Hansol is hugging her from behind, hiding his hands on the pockets of her hoodie and pressing his chin to her shoulder before whispering into her ear.

“We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Like organizing our things at the hotel and sign some posters for tomorrow…” He never rushes with those things, but at the presence of Jay, Hansol’s a bit more masculine and selfish with time. When she tries to answer him, far too lost in the beauty of him now that he has pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, pulling the strands of his hair back, his golden eyes have settled on Jay, not even sparing him a grin out of courtesy. “I’ll have to snatch her away from you.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Jay adds, aiming to hurt and taint, but Hansol doesn’t let him. Instead, he pulls her by the strings of her hoodie, interlocking their hands together before speaking closely to her face.

“So, are we going?”

It’s not a doubt that she says ‘yes’. After all, if her heart had grown a bond for Hansol without him touching her that way, having a glimpse of what it could be like to be with him has her brain going feverish.

Hansol is certain about many things. That he likes the color green. He loves tie dye hoodies. That he would die in a beanie if he could. He enjoys weird scary shows, and he would marathon the entirety of Scream in a minute. He is also certain that he doesn’t want to talk to her, as they sit across from each other in his hotel room. Not just because, but for the matter that she was talking to the ex that had done anything in his willpower to push her to be absolutely nothing.

He sits on a brown leather couch, working diligently on signing posters while she has opted not to do so. For the past ten minutes, she has ventured into all the possible conversation topics in order to get him to look up, even smile, but while Hansol likes living his life in tranquility, he also has his angered moments. His blood felt like it had rushed to his knuckles from how tight he was holding them closed when he saw Jay. He couldn’t bear but admit to himself that, while he had opted not to think about her in that light, the idea of her going back to Jay and not with him infuriated him. Sure, she wasn’t his—neither was she anybody’s, for that matter—but if someone had to have her as the person by their side, it had to be him. Right?

Anyone but fucking Jay Lee.

But preferably him.

Yet, she knows how to get the world to look at her with eyes that had been rose-colored by her voice and eyes alone. After ten minutes, she knows that he won’t talk to her and when the beads of silence surround the cream-colored room, he almost imagines that she has left. Only that he gets to see her jean-cladded thighs standing in front of his knees, his eyes darting to her face for a fraction of a second until he sees her. The closeness, the little smile that splays in the corner of her mouth, and that wave to her eyebrows that tells him that she’s a bit confused, amused, but also a tad annoyed.

“Why are you angry at me? I haven’t done anything to get the silent treatment.” God, she’s one of the smartest women he has met. With the way she can think of matters in the spot and make a drawing on the screen the most interesting thing in the world. He knows her commentaries on movies are the most precise, intelligent words that could be said, and yet, he wishes she could wake up and realize that he has been here, all along, for three months and even a bit more, liking her like a complete fool. “Hansol, you either talk to me or you talk to me. I’m not giving you another option.”

“That man was…okay, I’ll talk to you.” Hansol stops himself when he hears just how mortified he sounds when he starts talking, putting the poster he was signing to the side, laying on the table next to him with the other pile of posters. Soon after, he’s spreading his hands on the armrest, leaning back on the couch. “Jay has done nothing but make your life an absolute hell and there you go, just being nice to him, letting him hug you and talk to you—”

“Hold up,” She interrupts him, spreading a hand on her waist. “If I just ignore him or treat him like shit, I’m giving him even more of a reason to talk. I’ll be the first to admit to say that the stuff Jay put me through wounded me in ways that will take more than a few months to work through, but I also don’t want to give him the benefit of being aware of how much he hurt me.”

Hansol can understand that, but he also knows what men like Jay think. He runs his fingers through his hair, groaning through half-parted lips. “He probably thinks he still has you on the palm of his hand.”

“He doesn’t.” She shrugs. “So, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to see you with him. That is the problem.” Hansol says, standing up and staring at her, face-to-face. “I know you won’t go back to him but it makes me angry to think you ever thought of being with him. Not only doesn’t he match up with you on looks, but he never deserved you. You could put him on a pan and drop an entire bag of salt on him and Jay Lee would still be flavorless. The biggest mistake you could ever make, and the thought alone of him wanting to be with you—”

“I don’t want to be with him.”

“Yes, but…” You also don’t want to be with me, he completes for himself. Sure, she had once said she liked him, but what reassures him that it wasn’t just for the camera?

“You’re making a big deal out of it!”

“I fucking know!” He exclaims, widening his eyes.

“Then?”

“I will make everything that happens to you a big deal because I care for you. I’ve liked you for God-knows how long. Sorry for getting jealous, but I don’t regret it one—”

She interrupts him before he could say anything else, with her lips spreading across his, savoring the tremor of his mouth before he opens it to the granting touch of her tongue. His bottom lip fits between hers as if they were made for her, her hands gravitating to his waist and pulling him closer, though the fact that she was the one to make the first move did not stop Hansol from adding his own motions. His hands spread on the back of her neck, thumbs coming in contact on the column of her throat and dragging a sweet stripe down, rising goosebumps all over her skin. Hansol tilts his head to the side, a cloud of humidity building from the breath he lets out before kissing her lazily, albeit strongly, like he knows he doesn’t have to do much to do it right.

She would like to punch him, ask him why he never did anything when she confessed to liking him in that video, but Hansol has seated back on the chair, hands landing on her hips as he continues to kiss her, and her thighs part to settle comfortably on his lap. When she pulls away from him, lips tainted in that romantic shade of pink that he leaves everywhere he goes, she traces the outline of his mouth with a peck before she goes down to his neck, hiding in there for a second.

“You had me guessing for so long, Hansol. That’s what assholes do.”

Hansol’s hands rub at her hips, one of the portions she’s more insecure about, but with him it just feels right. “I don’t want to be your rebound.” He tells her, grabbing her by her chin before pushing their lips together once again. He keeps his eyes closed when he speaks against her mouth, just minutes after biting on her bottom lip. “Please, don’t let me be a rebound. If I am, stop me now.”

She’d be crazy to stop him. Not when his mouth looks like a rose petal and her heart feels the more at ease she has felt in a while. Sure, this is always the start of every romance. She knows that men feel comfortable before they destroy her heart even worse than the last time, but something tells her that this is not the case with Hansol. She closes her eyes, venturing into the shape of his mouth to trace it like the map she should have followed a long time ago.

For now, she’ll get lost in him, in the way he makes her feel like she’s the newest star in the sky and he’s drawing it himself. Calling her something that goes unnamed for now.

The word ‘for now’ is so funny. It prolongs in time, so much that three months turn into six, and then, an entire year.

She had said that Hansol’s idea was a ‘for now’. That him, as a person, was temporary as it gets, but the clock was making fun of her as she rushes to his car, holding onto the coldest coffee she could get at this hour of the morning. Some people feel comfortable, not because they are colored certain way or how they make you feel, but what you two make together. Blue and green are colors on their own, but together they make something different. The creation of new matters is what makes the world a little bit more interesting.

Hansol doesn’t enjoy mornings, not after a short night of sleep, and that may be her fault, but with the way he smiles at her when she opens the car’s door, she’s sure he has forgiven her. For how great they felt last night, she’s sure that there were no grudges held. A camera is pointed her way, though she knows that the second season of their show is still being published on her channel and, no way in hell, he would ever post the videos he takes of her. Little vlogs to remember what it was like here, now, forever. God, forever sounds amazing with Hansol.

“Here we have a whole coffee addict, making her way to my sick Porsche.”

“It’s a Toyota, Hansol. Sit the fuck down.” She completes, entering the car and pushing her hair over her shoulder, leaning over the seat to let him taste the coffee. That makes the camera a little too close to her face, laughing and pushing it to the side the slightest. “I’m sure I don’t look that good in that angle.”

“You don’t, but real love will make me say you do.” He completes, sipping a few more times into her coffee before giving it back to her. He has the hood of his shirt all the way over his dark hair, turning off the camera and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he starts the car.

Talking about their relationship in public was forbidden, for she doesn’t want to blur the line in between the faux relationship and what became real. In fact, it happened with its bumps along the road. She can’t say that everything has been easy, that sometimes her nightmares don’t wake her up with the idea of Hansol leaving one day, or not precisely leaving her, but stomping on her heart before he flees away, but that idea alone is pushed away with a served kiss and a few words that save her from doubting. Hansol is not much of a talker and yet, when he opens those lips of his, he always seems to say the right thing.

So, while the subscribers have never gotten a real video of them admitting to their relationship, it’s almost public notice. She sips on her drink, looking at his profile and the tranquility of him before asking.

“So, I saw a Tweet not too long ago. As I was waiting for coffee, actually.”

“From who?” His voice grows serious, expecting to hear anything from Jay or anyone else on the internet, but she calms him down by interlocking their fingers together, tracing the small promise ring on his finger with her thumb.

“From a subscriber that wanted to point out our supposed beginnings.” She likes looking at those conspiracies from time to time. They are so ridiculous that she can’t help but be amused by how close and obsessed people can get from someone they saw on the internet. Well, as long as it’s kept like a good momentum on someone’s life, and they know not to blur the line, she’s sure it’s okay. “The first picture you liked of me was on April 18th, three years ago. It was a picture of me on my desk, looking down at my I-Pad as I drew, working on my next video.”

Hansol twists his head to the side, laughing to himself a bit before nodding. “I remember that picture.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He looks at her for a fraction of a second before bringing their interlocked hands up, giving it a soft kiss. “Your hair was shorter then. Way shorter. I thought you were pretty.”

“Sometimes, I wish I had met you earlier.”

“Huh, earlier wasn’t our time, I guess.” Hansol responds, letting go of her hand to grab her coffee.

Holding her breath, she looks at his sleepy profile. At him as a person. It has been so long and yet, the words don’t weight on her mouth when she opts to mumble it for the first time:

“I love you, Hansol.”

His eyes twinkle when she says those words, spreading a smile into his face that show all his teeth before he gnaws at his bottom lip.

“I love you, too.”

#vernon scenarios #vernon x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #kpop scenarios #seventeen #vernon #writing #vernon au #vernon fluff #vernon angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen au

[strigital]

Hey! So I love your Miraak and it kind of inspired me to make my own. Only problem is that I can’t freaking figure out how to mod him. I’d be super grateful if you could give me some tips!

hello there! sorry it took me like a million years to reply. my life’s been heckin’ wild these past few days. anyways, let’s talk about modding the miraakulous ass.

first of all i am in no way a modder, this small little .esp that affects the face and body of a follower from another mod is the first and only working mod i’ve ever made. second - my main sources of info were these two vids (i followed the first one to the T in order to make my miraak fully standalone, i. e. not dependant on any cosmetic mods that, if suddenly removed, would mess up my boi’s face):

this second one mostly helped me to understand NifSkope and NifMerge.

so uhhh... yeah. i basically just followed these two tutorials in order to make my miraak have a unique face and body meshes and textures. anyways, i made this mod mostly by just trial and error, lots of loading and reloading, redoing stuff, changing stuff. so imma just tell you the short version of my process (which hopefully i still remember correctly, it’s been a while).

first thing first - get yourself some tools:

creation kit (how else ya gonna make miraak’s face, ya dummy?)

nifskope if you need to know each and every texture your man is using on his face

nifmerge in order to slap your desired textures onto a ck generated miraak’s facegen

install racemenu in your skyrim. just do it

cosmetic mods of your desire, such as mods for custom hair, brows, beard, eyes, skin, scars, warpaints and tattoos

and now... LET US BEGIN THE MAGIC!!1

step one: launch skyrim and create a miraak of your dreams.

i just loaded my latest Nim’s save, created another save, typed showracemenu 14 in the console and went to town with sliders. i race changed my gorl into a Nord (another race may cause some unseen bugs so better choose Nord), sex changed her into a dude and just... made myself a miraak.

once done i used Racemenu to save his face as a preset for future use and then exported it using a name like MIR_FACE_NEW or something like that (refer to the second video to know where the exported face file is kept). 

then i pressed done, confirmed his name as Test Miraak, opened console again and typed savenpcface miraakface.

now, with these two files, we’re ready to go into the ck and do some magic.

step two: open ck and make your .esp file and do some modding magic

if ya wanna make your miraak standalone, refer to the videos i linked to learn how to do that. i followed the first video and was able to succesfully make my miraak have his own body and face textures (gotta love that dragon tattoo on the back!).

remember to save often and to have multiple copies of your .esp file! ck crashes like a motherfucker, just as todd howard intended.

when you’re ready to edit miraak follower, load your mod as an active file with miraakfollower.esp also enabled, go to the actors tab, search for miraak. note: all things added by the miraak follower mod will have letters MF in their names. find miraak follower, you’ll know it’s him by the potentialfollowerfaction faction addedd to him as well as some 30+ users in the users tab. now, listen up. idk what’s the matter with ck or what the hell are users, but by the love of talos make sure the number of users for miraak remains the same! if you see that users are now 0, exit ck without saving, reload your .esp and check if number of users is back to being something over 30. if not, reload an older .esp version, even if it means redoing a lot of stuff. why you should care about users? i don’t know, but i noticed that if users are 0, then the mod won’t work, your miraak will be pure vanilla and won’t use any of your modifications. complicated stuff, i know, just keep those pesky users above 0 and miraak shall work as intended.

now, double click ya boi and with the help of the videos i linked edit his face meshes and textures. if you also created custom body textures (how to do that - refer to the beginning of first video where you’re shown how to create them) you should apply them at the very first tab, the same tab that also gives you the ability to edit his scale and weight. me being hellbent on the fact that atmorans were huge folk, i edited his scale to be something like 1.2, just a tad bigger that an average Nord (note: if you edit his scale you’ll notice a lot of shrinking and expanding whenever he’ll be using various animation markers around the world, such as a smelter, a stool, a wall to lean against... that’s normal, just a bit silly).

anyways, when you’re done editing his face in that window, save the changes (or apply, i forgot what the button says) and press ctrl+f4, twice for good measure. why? it’ll export your new miraak’s facegen, don’t know what it is but it’s hella important! check again if users are above 0, if yes then save your .esp and close ck. refer to the second video to learn how to use nifmerge in order to make your miraak use custom make up and warpaint textures.

once all that is done, place your .esp file after miraakfollower.esp, disable any other miraak face mods to avoid conflicts and load your game. now... at this moment many things may go wrong or refuse to work, idk why. :\

if you have the ability, load a save before the game spawns miraak follower in if you edited his weight. if not, load any save with him at your side. why? that’s because npc’s weight is baked onto a save and it will not change to match your mod’s. however, the neck of the npc will morph to match the weight you set in the ck and thus miraak may have a permanent gap between his body and neck. loading a save before the miraak follower mod’s quest sends you to get some sleep at raven rock and then check his temple is best in such case, because then the game will spawn miraak in with body weight modded and thus no neck gap!

once loaded, locate your miraak follower, click him in the console, use the unequipall command to get him naked, maybe even toggleai to keep him still. take a look at your homeboi. no grey face? body textures loaded as intended? he looks like you expected? good. dress him up again and go kill some bandits. or use some Other Type of mod to enjoy that new face and body. but if no, click him in the console again and type disable then enable a few times. eventually he should pop into his new textures. it took me quite a few resurrect commands before his grey face bug disappeared.

and... that’s it. really. i dind’t explain much, because these two vids is all you need to know how to make a custom face and body for miraak. they do a really amazing job at explaining, plus the first vid has a doc file in the describtion that you can download and use in the future. it’s very easy to follow step by step.

all i can add from myself is that don’t despair if shit doesn’t work for quite some time. it took me like a dozen attempts before my miraak .esp began working as intended and even to this moment i worry that something might break. just try again, make a fresh clean .esp, reinstall miraak follower mod if something got overwritten. look for more tutorials online. if you feel like making him standalone is way too hard, make him dependant on cosmetic mods, you won’t have to create custom texture files, but in case any of these mods get deleted, your miraak might end up bald or without eyes XD

TL;DR

i just used these two vids for the entire process, exept i didn’t create a follower, i edited an existing one from miraak follower mod.

#ask #the-lone-maverick #the elder scrolls #tesv #tes5 #skyrim #dragonborn #miraak #bethesda #modding #miraak follower #ck #custom follower

[alschain]

I honestly can't post more random shit on twitter so here's where I'll store my garbage brain reading magi comic

- I SHIP TOTO AND MORGIANA how dare you sink my ship with only like 2 chapters

- finally reached them plot beyond anime adaptation and first thing we learn, someone need to water spray Alibaba's horny ass

- Yunan and Sinbad bicker back and forth...? Must be exes (nod) also Yunan you fucking twink

- but he's an intellectual twink I approve

- kou empire being a commentary on ancient china (even china today) and it's ideology of unification by not accepting diversity but promoting a single culture language and customs that are it's own is not a critique of communism rather colonialism....thank you

- maybe it's too quick to judge but good grief I hate people like koumei the most :( being able to rationalize and institutionalize violation of human rights is a lot scarier than any crazy loony. And it honestly is some 1984 shit going on here

- oh.............................

- Ithnan is a gay baby

- so the story of alma toran, shares the same core idea of Jesus Christ Superstar (jokes aside the discussion of power and divinity is really fucking beautiful

- It is incredibly distracting however that in a magical world deeply rooted in Arabic culture, people have names like Solomon or Sheba or Ugo that the ultimate villain is just called, David. Like some guy from work

- final chapter of the arc looping back to aladdin wishing to be friend with ugo....It's fucking poetic, it's fucking beautiful. The whole alma toran story obviously isn't telling us that Solomon's will is just good, or that he did everything right. Just like he once did, aladdin is now questioning the world's principal and all acting from the base desire of happiness. I don't think my sleep deprived mind grasped or made sense of everything going on here but damn, this is good shit

- I read shonen to feel good about myself and the world because they get cool powers and unconditional friends and most importantly through trial and error they actually win. But damn is it suffocating to read magi (but in a good way), nihilism, existentialism, philosophies I contemplate all day every day being presented in such a way is really, idk, making me sad, just like the real world

- Hakuryuu and Judar's fight against Arba is so fucking good..............and my god all these motherfuckers from Kou are scary. But I just want to hug these two sad boys, which is not saying that I think their thinking is rights or makes sense it's just...you can't blame them, and bitch I relate. Being unable to escape a loop of hate and anger for so long and so much that you internalized it to become something much worse.......and that makes you doubt even more about yourself and the people around you. Which is why therapy is important, at least for me lol.

- SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THIS FUCKING FIGHT????? WHY??????????? WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO EACH OTHER IT'S SO MISERABLE I CANT-

- Aladdin's expression.......INSTANT TEARS

- he's so pure I'm crying

- Sinbad you actual SON OF A BITCH

- SINBADDDD WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE WHO?????? And putting Sinbad' adventures in his younger days into perspective it's just fucking tragic, if you have to be a piece of shit fine but what about the good people and their good intentions..............

- FUCK I knew one of them is going to die out of the fucking blue and I know I said I hated koumei but, FUCK

- jfc it's so............miserable....................

- human justice change, and as long as we are able to question it, the world would be a better place, and we are able to move forward, to have meaning. I want to hug Hakuryuu until he can't breath.

- oh no kougyoku.......come here that's right Sinbad is a piece of shit

- wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait WHAT

- she..!!! he......!!!!!!! Can she do it to literally anyone furthermore does, does like Ja'far know about......him???!?!????!?!!!????

- damn the opening chapter of the final arc is so beautifully done it's fucking art.

- To think that I was so obsessed with Yunan when I was like 13 first watching Magi anime...he's actually just a sad twink

- they got cars???? They got phones????? They got fucking planes??????? I've only ever seen fantasy + technology as in steampunk but this shit, it's purely magical, and it makes sense holy shit

- the gags in Magi are one of the greatest I swear they are so random

- this is...genius, it's not a conflict of communism and capitalism but rather the culture rooted in Eastern and Western civilizations and the different difficulties they face stepping into this new world.......these two economic system aren't inherently eastern and western either, it's just, cultures, and the conflict created thus.

- and Alibaba are you our socialism icon??

- no wait wtf alibaba WHAT fucking plan is this that's not how, that's not how it works. To introduce a concept previously foreign to the population is not to domesticated it like that...? It suggests that....people can't change, culture can't change, Idk it's kinda worrying. But I do understand, as a temporary measure :/

- ALIBABA. YOU. GREAT. HUMAN. BEING.

- fuck capitalism and monopoly fuck you Sinbad

- this is the scariest shit I've ever seen good grief arba can you not

- I'm going to say it while I still can without being creepy since technically I'm still a teen? Aladdin how is he hot af now

- now that I think more about it Hakuryuu's redemption happens so naturally, it makes me so happy to see the struggle for truth and happiness is achieved through one's reflection, coming to terms with mistakes. Again this shit is fucking beautiful.

- Alibaba Keanu Reeves Saluja ("no, you're amazing"

- YUNANNNNNNNNN NOOOOOOOO

- I fucking love Yunan I just really like this character ever since the first time I watched magi for some strange reason and NOW NOOOOOOOO WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BOY

- Hakuryuu could be in a infomercial about insects repellant by now things would be much easier if you know his arms could stop getting bit/stung by snake/scorpion

- "can I have an Apple now Mr driver" ALADDIN YOU BIG FLIRT I WILL DIE WITH THIS SHIP and damn his change is even more oblivious put next to Alibaba

- crybaby Hakuryuu.....they all changed but hasn't at the same time I'm crying

- is Hakuryuu me?????????? Crying all night after getting wasted

- two minutes after I said I'll die with the ship....the ship died, bye everybody

- just kidding Alibaba and Mor as so sweet it's just I really ship Aladdin and alibaba....I get more and more estranged feeling as I keep reading because it's not silly, feel-good adventures anymore, "少年漫" 里面的 "少年感" 被渐渐冲淡了因为真实世界比魔法对决宏大多了. I mean, it doesn't seem real that Alibaba and Mor are getting married, I still see them as hot headed companions that are teens going for their dreams against a whole unkind world, it just doesn't seem real. But not in remotely any bad way, it's me who hasn't grown up, I guess.

- that said you guys can really just start with, a relationship? Ya know???? "Lets become husband and wife" I can't take this it's too fast lmao

- NO STOP PUTTING ALADDIN AND KOUGYOKU TOGETHER I DONT LIKE IT (they are both lovely people I just don't like it#!!!!!!! They had zero chemistry#!!#!!#!!!!!!!! It's weird!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I refuse everyone's getting fucking married!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- stop.......being..........so.............full of yourself, sinbad

- what, the, fuck, is, going, on

- what

- the

- fuck

-Sinbad

[mofodopoulis]

OMG . . . Judge Ellis took ArtMofo's advice . . .

Hey peeps, We're officially living in the alternate universe, where: Cold is hot, Wet is dry, Good is evil, and . . . Federal judges pay homage to the thoughts and feelings of Arthur Mofodopoulis, while sentencing a $30 million tax cheat and bank fraudster who built a career representing -- and rehabilitating the images of -- some of the most cruel and inhumane motherfuckers on Earth. "Blameless life" my ass! There's no need any longer for strong drink, or mind-bending drugs such as LSD, psilocybin or DMT. It cannot get any weirder. God help us all. --Art ----- Forwarded Message ----- From: Arthur Mofodopoulis Sent: Friday, March 1, 2019, 9:06:51 PM EST Subject: ArtMofo's sentencing memo in the Manafort case (Eastern District of Virginia) By snail mail ------------------------- The Honorable T.S. Ellis III U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia Albert V. Bryan Federal Courthouse 401 Courthouse Square Alexandria, VA 22314 February 19, 2019 Dear Judge Ellis, I'm writing about the upcoming sentencing of Paul Manafort, the former chairman of President Trump's 2016 presidential campaign. As a patriotic American with a keen interest in justice and fairness, I urge you to hand down the lightest sentence possible. That's because Mr. Manafort has worked his entire adult life to make the United States of America and planet Earth a better place. I do not personally know the defendant, although I've learned a few things about his upbringing over the years, and I've followed his career with a mixture of admiration and amazement. He's a devout Roman Catholic who was raised in Connecticut and attended a Catholic high school and Georgetown University. There, he also earned a law degree. He's a faithful husband who's been married to the same woman for 41 years and together they raised two daughters who are sturdy citizens and productive members of society. Until last year, Mr. Manafort had never been convicted of any criminal offense. During his career, Mr. Manafort remained far out of the limelight as he selflessly assisted many respected world leaders. Among them are President Ronald Reagan (who appointed you); U.S. Senator Robert Dole, a World War II hero and Republican presidential candidate; Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos, a beloved humanitarian; and two of Africa's greatest modern-day statesmen: Angolan freedom fighter Jonas Savimbi, and President Mobutu Sese Seko of Zaire. Mr. Manafort also worked closely with Viktor Yanukovych in Ukraine. Unfortunately, the popularly elected President Yanukovych was undemocratically overthrown in a coup orchestrated by a European-Union cabal composed of socialists, globalists and rootless cosmopolitans like George Soros. Against that enviable record, Judge Ellis, let us consider the crimes for which Mr. Manafort was convicted in your court: Tax fraud, bank fraud and failing to disclose a foreign bank account. On any broad scale of evildoing, such violations are laughably harmless. It's not difficult to wonder if they should even be crimes at all. Who hasn't occasionally made one or more simple bookkeeping errors while filling out tax forms, or misplaced some faith in an accountant whom they trusted? And who hasn't fudged a fact here or there on a loan application for the purpose of bettering chances of a bank's approval? The third charge is the most outrageous of all, because it's tantamount to a "memory" crime. In no way is it illegal for an American citizen to hold a bank account in a foreign country, and Mr. Manafort had many of those. During a globe-trotting career that was full of distractions, he apparently forgot to disclose a single account. Big deal! When failing to remember something becomes a federal crime, Judge Ellis, we're all in a heap of trouble. The jury verdicts in Mr. Manafort's trial obviously reflected notions outlined above. As you know, jurors found him innocent of more than half the offenses the government charged. There's a decent argument the guilty verdicts they did return resulted from some sort of untoward backroom "compromise." It's quite possible jurors felt they had to find Mr. Manafort guilty of something, lest they incur the government's wrath and wind up under investigation themselves. Or perhaps jurors' baser emotions got the better of them as they listened to irrelevant and highly prejudicial testimony about Mr. Manafort's purchase of a $15,000 ostrich-skin jacket, and his other spending on clothes, landscaping and real estate. With that evidence, the prosecutors repulsively waged class warfare against Mr. Manafort right there in your courtroom. In America, it shouldn't be a crime to get rich! Whatever the reason for those misguided convictions, the government's request that you impose a prison sentence of between 19 and 24 years is both unfathomable  and unconscionable. Judge Ellis, you yourself correctly called the government's bluff during Mr. Manafort's trial. From the bench, you basically noted the entire indictment against Mr. Manafort was tendered in bad faith. You said prosecutors brought those charges for no reason other than to pressure Mr. Manafort into "flipping" against President Trump, and becoming a government witness in the ongoing witch hunt led by Robert Mueller and his 13 Hillary Clinton-supporting assistants. In that respect, the Manafort trial was purely an act of political retribution. We both know Mr. Manafort was tried only because of the successful work he did leading President Trump's election campaign. In addition to all his other accomplishments (cited above), that was Mr. Manafort's greatest career triumph. President Trump's amazing victory has fundamentally improved America. Among other things, it eviscerated a collective shame that darkened our country during the Obama Administration's eight years. Obama rigged the American justice system in a stealthy campaign that allowed him to escape responsibility for any number of criminal scandals. One was Solyndra, through which friends of Obama sucked billions of Energy Department subsides out of the U.S. Treasury and into their pockets. Another was Uranium One, under which Obama and Hillary Clinton gave away the United States' complete stores of that strategic metal to Russia in exchange for a contribution to the Clinton Foundation. Yet a third was Fast and Furious -- in that one, Obama literally armed Mexican drug cartels with military-grade weapons from the United States, which created the southern border crisis President Trump is now trying to fix. Surely you haven't forgotten the Obama Internal Revenue Service's campaign against grassroots conservative organizations, and how Obama shut down legitimate inquiry as to whether he's a natural-born citizen (which could have disqualified him from the White House). And what about the four American heroes who lost their lives in Benghazi? To date, nobody has paid any price for that because of an obscene cover-up engineered by Hillary Clinton that thwarted the best efforts of Congressional investigators. Any other president would have been impeached and later prosecuted for such crimes. Instead, Obama is walking around happy, free and a lot wealthier than he was when he entered the White House. Meanwhile, President Trump is suffering through a politically motivated investigation, precisely because he's worked tirelessly to drain the Obama swamp and eliminate the disgraceful "Deep State." That dishonest investigation, along a treasonous coup plotted by some Obama leftovers in the Justice Department, are President Trump's "reward" for his great efforts. I have learned all of the above by carefully watching and analyzing the Sean Hannity show on Fox News for the past two years. I didn't take that stuff at face value, though. I thoroughly researched it -- and all of Hannity's information totally checks out. Top-notch investigative journalists such as John Solomon, Sara Carter and Gregg Jarrett have validated every bit of it. Which brings us to the bottom line: Mr. Manafort's prosecution -- for Fake Crimes -- is little more than an extension of corrupt and traitorous attempts to get rid of President Trump and halt his valiant efforts to Make America Great Again. Judge Ellis, my simple request is that you take all of the above into account for Mr. Manafort's upcoming sentencing hearing. If you cannot find it in your head and heart to throw out every one of those unfair and malicious convictions, the least you could do is sentence Mr. Manafort to "time served" and release him. Then, after the November 2020 election, President Trump can pardon Mr. Manafort and finally give him the justice he richly deserves. Obama, Hillary and Mueller are the people who truly ought to be before you at that sentencing hearing, rather than an upstanding citizen like Mr. Manafort, who at the worst may have cut a few inconsequential corners while trying to bring justice to America and peace to the world. Thank you for reading this heartfelt letter. Sincerely, Arthur Mofodopoulis 4807 Penn Wyne Dr. Greensboro, NC 27401