Rai ּ ֶָ֢.

Thanks a lot, anon. Love you for your sweet words ❤️ and sorry to have kept you waiting for so long😭

Meetings were meant to be formal affairs, especially when graced by the chairman of the company himself. Yet somehow, this one was nothing more than a disaster waiting to happen. What was supposed to be a smooth discussion about next year’s sales targets and expectations had turned into complete chaos over one ridiculous issue, who would sit next to you.

You were wedged between Crystal and Kouji, and neither of them looked willing to move an inch. It was a strange sight, considering that not even Crystal or Kouji usually held their ground under Gun or Goo’s glare.

“Better yet, why don’t you sit on my lap, sweetie?” Goo offered with a grin.

“You pervert. Do you ever think about how that might not be good for her?” Gun snapped, both of them towering over you.

“Since when did you start caring about appearances, Gun?” Kouji asked lazily, barely glancing up from his laptop.

“Watch your manners, brat. I’m older than you,” Gun scoffed.

Kouji ignored him entirely and went back to typing.

You decided enough was enough. Reaching up, you grabbed both Gun and Goo by their ties and yanked them down to your level.

“Let’s not make a fuss while we work. Got it?” you said sternly, even as your stomach flipped at how close they were, each carrying a scent so different from the other.

To everyone’s surprise, they listened. They moved and took seats beside James instead.

Of course, peace never lasted long.

“Oi, pretty boy. Why don’t you switch seats with my girl?” Goo said, poking James’s shoulder.

James had been glued to his phone the entire time, not sparing anyone a glance. Mild irritation crossed his face, but instead of giving a simple answer, he chose violence.

“Your girl, Mr. Goo Kim? I thought she was with Gun. Thanks for clarifying.”

He stood up and offered you his seat. When you moved over, instead of gratitude, you shot him a filthy glare.

James only smirked.

“James Lee, you blind idiot!” Goo screeched. “Can’t you tell she loves me, not the man who gets erection every time he fights?”

Gun immediately turned toward him.

“That is a lie.”

Before Goo could answer, Charles Choi entered the room.

Everyone straightened at once, offering greetings and formalities. Once that was done, the meeting resumed as if nothing had happened.

Except you were somehow still suffering.

Because beneath the table, Gun and Goo had decided to play footsie with you.

“Is something wrong?” Charles asked mid-sentence, pausing to look your way.

“No.”

“Then perhaps you have something to say?”

“Not right now. Please continue.”

“Please don’t harass her into speaking,” Goo cut in. “Don’t you know workplace policies?”

“Excuse me?” Charles raised a brow.

“Charles Choi, why are you specifically targeting her?” Gun added coldly.

“What?” Charles looked genuinely bewildered.

You lowered your head to hide your laughter.

But it only got worse.

“Gun, this isn’t your place to speak,” Goo said dramatically. “My girl just got harassed by an old geezer, and you think this is your moment?”

Charles’s look of utter disappointment could have frozen hell over.

“Goo Kim,” Gun said flatly. “You heard James Lee earlier. She belongs to me.”

“She isn’t a trophy, you heartless yakuza! Learn how humans work first!” Goo shouted back.

“She is the one I will wed. That’s what matters.”

Then, somehow, Goo had a sword in hand.

And somehow, Gun’s shirt had vanished.

Everyone turned toward James, hoping he would stop them. Even you gave him a pleading look.

James took a sip of coffee.

“This is for the best,” he said calmly. “Whoever wins can proudly claim to be her man.”

Then he walked out.

The room erupted.

Gun fought like he needed to get rid of his erection. Goo fought like he was your knight in shining armor. Furniture was destroyed. Crystal moved her chair away. Kouji typed faster and recorded everything. Charles looked utterly mortified.

They were both indefatigable.

In the middle of it all, Gun accidentally punched you in the shoulder, and Goo sliced off half your hair.

The fight stopped instantly.

No winners. Plenty of losers.

💌

“If you need anything, just say the word,” Goo said softly.

You were now lounging by the poolside of the resort where everyone had relocated after the disastrous meeting. Though still furious, you had to admit you were enjoying the attention.

“I need…”

Everything froze.

Goo dropped to one knee beside your chair. Gun stopped cutting fruit into heart shapes and looked up sharply.

“I need some space from you two.”

Silence. Thick and painful silence.

“How many hours?” Goo asked seriously. “Tell me, and I’ll come back after that.”

Gun kicked him aside and crouched by your chair instead, gently holding your face to inspect for injuries.

“Did the doctor examine you properly?” he asked.

“Get your filthy hands off her,” Goo hissed, immediately hugging you from the side. “You were scratching your balls five minutes ago.”

Gun ignored him and took your legs into his lap, beginning to massage your feet. He had already noticed your patterns, annoyance came first, then complaints, then eventually yeileding into the whimps. He planned accordingly.

“If this leech needs to be kicked, just say the word,” Gun murmured.

“You two are deaf,” you snapped. “I asked for space, and now you’re practically sitting on me.”

Neither moved. Goo only hugged tighter. Gun’s grip on your ankles became suspiciously firm.

And that should have been the peak of chaos.

It wasn’t.

💌

A week later, you made the mistake of agreeing to attend DG’s concert with Gun and Goo. You wanted to spend time with both of them. Why have one when you could have both? It was the wrong decision.

You had assumed it would be simple. Sit in the VIP section, watch the performance, go home.

That assumption died the moment you arrived.

Because Gun and Goo had apparently decided tonight would become another battlefield.

The arena was packed with screaming fans, flashing lights, and deafening music. James had not even stepped onto the stage yet, and the two men beside you were already competing like lunatics.

Goo was first to strike.

He snapped his fingers, and three staff members rushed forward carrying an enormous bouquet of roses shaped into your initials. In the center, written in rose gold, were the words:

TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

He handed it to you dramatically, dropping to one knee in the middle of the VIP box.

“For you, my love. To make this evening even more special.”

You stared, feeling both happiness and embarrassment. But the way Gun dug into your back with his gaze filled you with an entirely different emotion.

Before you could respond, Gun calmly lifted one finger.

Another staff member entered carrying a velvet box. Inside sat a diamond bracelet with intricately woven flower designs.

Gun took your wrist and fastened it himself.

“Flowers die,” he said. “Something permanent suits you better.”

Goo’s eye twitched.

“Going there, huh?”

He immediately pulled out his phone. Within minutes, the giant arena screen above the stage lit up with massive text:

I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYONE HERE. – GOO KIM

The crowd screamed, assuming it was part of the pre-show entertainment.

You covered your face.

Gun’s eyes twitched. Then he made one call.

A few seconds later, the entire opposite side of the stadium lights shifted formation, spelling out:

SHE WILL MARRY ME. – GUN PARK

The audience lost their minds.

Fans were filming. Staff were panicking. Meanwhile, James was still in his vanity room, blissfully unaware of everything happening.

“What is wrong with you two?!” you hissed.

Goo wasn’t listening. He had already pulled out custom banners from under his seat. Every one of them had your face surrounded by glitter hearts.

He started handing them out to nearby fans.

“Wave these when she smiles!”

The fans gladly accepted, delighted by the chaos.

Gun scoffed. He was close to losing, but he would not be outdone.

He stood up, removed his coat, and draped it over your shoulders when he noticed you were cold from the arena air conditioning. He even asked if you wanted his shirt as well.

The girls screamed louder than before, while the boys wolf-whistled.

Goo was no longer getting the attention.

He immediately sat on the floor by your chair, grabbed your hand, and declared loudly,

“I’ll keep her warm myself!”

Gun shoved him aside with one foot and sat closer, one arm resting possessively behind your seat.

“She doesn’t like being encircled like that.”

“She hates your unwashed coat as well.”

“She told you that?”

“So you agree it’s unwashed?”

“You stink more than me.”

Their argument escalated so badly that VIP guests started relocating to other sections.

Then the concert began.

DG walked onto the stage under a shower of lights, flawless as ever. The screams became thunderous.

He sang the first verse perfectly, until his gaze drifted toward your VIP box.

He continued singing, but his eyes gave away the horror of what he was witnessing.

Because Goo was holding up a banner that read:

I LOVE HER MOST

And Gun had somehow produced one even larger that read:

NO, I DO

The two of them were trying to out-raise each other’s signs like rival sports fans.

James closed his eyes for a long moment.

And then, as if that were not enough, a helicopter began flying above the stadium. Flowers rained down on the crowd while banners with your name and photos of Gun and Goo wearing shirts with your face plastered on them fluttered from the sky.

James had had enough.

He walked to the edge of the stage, microphone in hand.

“Security,” he said calmly. “Please remove my friends.”

The crowd booed him for that. Honestly, they wanted more chaos, and James was in no position to deny it.

Goo looked betrayed.

“James Lee! See? We are more entertaining than you!”

Gun adjusted his tie.

“Your notes are clearly not hitting today.”

The fans screamed even harder.

You sank lower into your seat, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

And somehow, both men turned to you at once.

“Did you see that?” Goo demanded. “I defended our love publicly. People want more of our love story.”

Gun leaned closer.

“I was more dignified.”

“You were boring.”

“You were an embarrassment.”

“You love me more though, right?” Goo asked hopefully.

Gun stared at you, waiting for your answer too.

You looked between them, exhausted.

“I should have come with James.”

For the first time all night, both men agreed together.

Raffle closes at June 15th 2026

So since I hit 300 followers atp how about a raffle again? For now only 1 raffle winner is planned, but if we reach more than anticipated, I want to add more winners! Might be that I make up to 3 winners if we reach two 50th entry milestones. But let's see how this rolls first!

What's to win?

A custom art work made for you in form of 1 character bustshot with flowers of your choice! I can draw your OC (whether it's from a fandom or not) or even a canon character you adore. The winner will be decided with a picker wheel, which I'll record for transparency~

What I can draw:

Any gender

Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Steampunk, Modern themes

Floral accessoires

I don't draw:

Mecha

Furries

Ferals

Required Entry

Follow this blog (new followers are welcome to join too~ 💜)

Reblog this post with the tag "Flower Raffle Entry"

One ticket per person, please be fair and don't use an alternative blog to gain more tickets.

if the tag isn't in the reblog you don't get the ticket, because I'll assume you didn't read the description.

Important notes!

If you win the raffle, but send me AI-Generated references, you will be Blacklisted and I will roll a new winner. I don't condone GenAI around me, so spare yourself the trouble. It has to be said, but if you like my artworks enough to follow me for this raffle, don't unfollow me after this concluded. That's just plain rude and might get you blacklisted for future events. If you unfollow me after like half a year because you simply lost interest in me and my craft, more power to you. Just don't use this as a tactic to get free art. I might remember your names ;3

Good luck!

How men are often forced to suppress their emotions and channel them into violence against other men just to feel other men touch … yeah, I’ll get serious now 😭

As of now, I wouldn’t consider it a hot take to say that the story feels dead, or at least that its richness and depth have diminished. Sometimes I even catch myself asking, why is it still called Lookism?

But at the same time, I want to disagree with that. Maybe a part of me is biased because I love James as a character so much that I keep searching, squinting even for deeper themes and character exploration. Because if you really look at it, Lookism is still there, just in a different font.

What we’re seeing now is a world where everyone carries a façade. That’s why there’s such an influx of tragic backstories. And honestly, is it even fair to dismiss them as just sad backstories? They explain why people are the way they are.

Take Changsu, for example. Right now, we see a brutal assassin who wouldn’t hesitate to kill even children. Yet somehow, he’s also a good father. That contradiction shocks us. But why? Why do we assume that someone capable of violence cannot also love deeply? That assumption itself is a form of judgment, of lookism. Similarly, people question how someone like Gun could fail to understand Eli. Eli fought for his family, cared deeply, and endured so much, so why didn’t Gun support him more? Gun also wanted a loving family.

The answer lies in Gun himself. At his core, Gun is emotionally stunted. He longed for love from his mother and validation from his father, but never truly received it. His emotions don’t manifest in empathy, they come out through power and violence. TUI isn’t just a power-up; it’s him losing control, revealing the rawest parts of himself.

Now look at Eli. Given his upbringing, he could have become someone like Charles cold and ruthles. And I emphasize could because he had every reason to. But instead, he chose to become a loving, nurturing father. That’s where the cycle of trauma either continues or breaks.

Jake is another great example. With the scar on his face, you’d assume he’s just another ruthless gangster. And yes, he is part of that world, but he won’t murder you like Kitae would. Both Jake and Kitae represent gang culture, but in completely different ways. Jake finds identity and meaning beyond Gapryong. He builds bonds, forms a found family, and grows into something more. Kitae, on the other hand, internalizes the worst aspects of his father while simultaneously hating him. It’s hypocritical but also deeply human.

And then there are the two biggest faces of Lookism: James and Daniel.

James is the perfect embodiment of both lookism and gangism. He’s a chameleon, constantly adapting, constantly reshaping himself to fit whatever society demands. Sometimes it feels like James Lee isn’t even his real name, it's something else. He fills whatever vacuum exists, becoming exactly what the world needs him to be. Daniel mirrors this in a different way. The same society that bullied and rejected him now depends on him. His glow-up isn’t just growth, it’s survival. It’s the only way he could ever be accepted.

But even that comes with questions. Why is his physical growth so exaggerated? Yes, people grow at different rates but his transformation feels almost absurd. And that, in itself, reflects Lookism. Even the author isn’t free from it.

Now, almost every character looks like a variation of James or Daniel. Most female characters look the same. And it’s not because PTJ lacks the skill, early Lookism proves otherwise. It’s because he’s succumbed to the very idea the story critiques.

It’s about market value. Attractive characters sell better. More popularity means more merch and more revenue. So naturally, designs become standardized. Rarely does a pre-generation character look old. Female characters are rarely allowed diverse body types. Male characters are almost always tall and always 6 feet and beyond.

Lookism isn’t just a theme within the story anymore, it’s something the story itself has fallen into.

So in the end, Lookism is still very much present. It’s about our preconceived notions, our biases, and how easily we judge based on appearance and expectation.

Gun Park x Indian Fem! Reader

It was an impromptu plan, and he acted like he had no interest in it.

When you excitedly told him, “We’re going pandal hopping tonight. Wear something comfortable,” he just stared at you and didn’t give a proper reply. Half the time, it was simply him trying to process what pandal hopping even meant, so he did his research first. Then he finally said,

“Why would I spend hours walking through crowds?”

“Boo.” You ignored every word of it. You were going tonight, whether he came or not.

But later that evening, he was there...dressed in a black kurta and white pajama, waiting in the car.

You asked him to get out so you could properly see what he was wearing. At first, he told you that you were wasting time and that you could see it when you reached the destination, but you refused to listen.

And when he stepped out, your jaw dropped.

You had wanted his reaction to your saree more than anything, but tonight, you were the one completely enamored.

“You listened.”

“As if I had any option,” he said. But then his gaze moved over you from head to toe, taking in how graceful you looked in the saree.

“You are not looking bad.”

He offered his hand.

You took it with a scoff. “I’ll translate that as you meaning I look very beautiful.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

You stepped on his jutti with your heels, and Gun remained very silent for the rest of the car ride.

💫

The moment you dragged him into the first crowded pandal, his expression darkened. Too many people brushed past him, too much noise, too many children. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to crowded places unless there was a fight going on.

“Wasn’t there any less crowded place?” he asked.

“No, this is the best place,” you told him, grabbing his wrist before he disappeared into the crowd.

He didn’t argue further. If you said this was the best place, he’d trust you on that one.

He spent most of the evening silently following behind you, watching more than participating. While you admired the decorations and lights, he scanned everything around you, making sure no one pushed into you too hard or got too close. If someone so much as looked at you for too long, his glare was already on them.

If someone bumped into your shoulder too roughly, they’d suddenly feel a terrifying presence staring them down.

You noticed eventually.

“Gun, stop intimidating strangers.”

“I was just keeping watch.”

“You’re scaring people away... and maybe it was accidental.”

“Accidental, my ass. I know what people are up to.”

When you reached the main pandal, you stopped to pray. You folded your hands before the goddess, and when you looked beside you, he was standing awkwardly still with his hands folded too.

“You’re a natural.” you said.

“Focus on praying.”

Which you did. You prayed to the goddess to give Gun some sense so he’d stop going around looking for death, that you’d get the much-needed promotion this year, and that you could come back again next year.

Gun was praying too, though not to ask for anything. He was simply paying his respects.

When you were done, your stomach rumbled, and the two of you headed toward the food stalls.

There was sabudana vada, sabudana khichdi, kuttu ka paratha with aloo sabzi. There were other snacks too jhalmuri, gol gappa, and more. You wondered what he’d like best, and somehow you ended up at the sweets section.

Sondesh was selling like hot cakes.

So you bought half a kilo.

“No,” Gun said.

“Try it.”

“No.”

He refused to eat the sondesh, but his eyes kept drifting toward the gol gappa stall. So you dragged him there, because he wasn’t getting away without eating something.

You fed one to him, and God, he had to open one hell of a big mouth to fit the whole thing in.

The moment he bit into it, he instantly regretted every life decision he’d ever made when the spicy water hit. It was far too tangy for his taste buds and hit his throat hard.

You patted his back as he struggled to swallow it without water leaking from his mouth. Once he managed it, he glared at you.

“You tried to kill me.”

“No, it was your first time, so you had difficulty.”

Just to prove you wrong, he immediately picked up another gol gappa.

And just like that, he had finished two full plates by himself before you had to intervene because there was still more food to try.

The floodgates had opened. Gun now wanted to try everything, and his masochism was showing, he wanted to know which food would truly set his tongue on fire.

It was indeed a long night, and for someone who had complained about walking too much, he sure visited every stall and several nearby pandals too.

When the night finally began to settle and your feet started hurting, you tried to hide it. But Gun noticed immediately.

Without a word, he lifted you into his arms.

“Give me a warning at least,” you said.

“You’d try to act hard to get and eventually give in anyway. What’s the point of asking?” he replied.

That irritated you, but nonetheless, you no longer had to walk.

So there you were, being carried through glowing empty streets, while Gun looked completely unbothered, except for the slight tightening of his hold whenever you laughed.

By the end of the night, as fireworks burst overhead and the city stayed alive with music and dandiya celebrations, you asked him,

“Did you have fun?”

He glanced at you, expression unreadable as always.

“It was very crowded.”

You frowned.

Then he pulled you a little closer by the hand.

“We’re going again tomorrow.”

his back im in despair

I need that stupid fcking cookie so bad

HELLO—