shenanigans for everyone

To those who are unaware, Jinu's name roughly translates to "true/genuine friend/companion".

진 Jin - truth, genuine, real

우 Woo - friend, companion

Jinu spent centuries putting on a masked persona on the outside; but the reality was, he was no more then a puppet dancing on a charismatic fire while self hatred was eating him alive.

Rumi saw the man underneath. She saw the truth. The man hidden behind the carefully crafted mask.

He was her Jinu - her truth. He was an amazing, genuine man - even if Jinu couldn't even see it in himself.

He was her forever companion.

Just as his name brought to light.

Think about it. Yes, she grew up likely very sheltered/isolated on Jeju Island, but also, she was a CHILD STAR. Even if she wasn’t performing, she was attending huge events like the Idol Awards with Celine when she was very young, and Celine was raising her to be a pop star. Rumi, who we know is a huge workaholic, has a ton of PR and media training and experience, more than Mira and Zoey combined. You don’t get to that position and point in your life without being able to read people (paparazzi, interviewers, journalists, etc) REALLY well. We see her gaslight and lie to Mira’s face no problem in the movie without even breaking eye contact. Yes, it’s obvious she’s hiding something, but she kept a massive secret from Mira and Zoey for years, and her lying only got bad and really noticeable when her patterns were out of control, she was stressed, and she was starting to see herself (and her heritage) differently thanks to Jinu.

And some of y’all don’t wanna hear this, but she was right about Jinu. Despite him saying that he wasn’t the guy to help her, that the Honmoon wouldn’t save him, she insisted, she persisted, she knew he desperately yearned for freedom and specifically used that to motivate him to sway him to her side, only meeting him one-on-one on her terms after their first rooftop meeting (we see her rejecting his invitations during Takedown, and she makes him go where she wants both other times they meet). Was part of her wanting to save Jinu trauma dumping and self-projection? Sure. But even when Jinu stopped trying to manipulate her (which he really only did in 1.5 interactions at most, and he wasn’t even really “manipulating” her at the fan signing, just being a smug asshole and holding what he knew over her head) and told her he wasn’t the dude to help her, she still saw and believed he could. And she was right! She was so right that Gwi-Ma literally had to step in and torture Jinu into compliance.

And finally, she single-handedly saved the world. Completely on her own, when talking to Celine, she came to the right realization and reckoning and appeared in Namsan Tower with the perfect philosophy and said just the right things to break Mira and Zoey free. And the fact that Rumi managed to convince the very dude who started the external conflict in the movie to switch sides is fucking impressive.

Bonus: I’ve seen takes that Rumi doesn’t know what sex or even a period is and like….come on, there’s NO WAY Celine skipped out on The Talk given what happened to Mi-yeong.

These are some lowkey underrated tips I’ve seen floating around writing communities — the kind that don’t get flashy attention but seriously changed how I write.

1. Put “he/she/they” at the start of the sentence less often.

Try switching up your sentence rhythm. Instead of

“She walked to the window,”

try

“The window creaked open under her touch.”

Keeps it fresh and stops the paragraph from sounding like a checklist.

2. Don’t describe everything — describe what matters.

Instead of listing every detail in a room, pick 2–3 objects that say something.

“A half-drunk mug of tea and a knife on the table”

sets a way stronger tone than

“There was a wooden table, two chairs, and a shelf.”

3. Use beats instead of dialogue tags sometimes.

Instead of:

"I'm fine," she said.

Try:

"I'm fine." She wiped her hands on her skirt.

It helps shows emotion, and movement.

4. Write your first draft like no one will ever read it.

No pressure. No perfection. Just vibes. The point of draft one is to exist. Let it be messy and weird — future you will thank you for at least something to edit.

5. When stuck, ask: “What’s the most fun thing that could happen next?”

Not logical. Not realistic. FUN. It doesn’t have to stay — but chasing excitement can blast through writer’s block and give you ideas you actually want to write.

they perform as well as expensive HEPA air cleaners, and are comparatively VERY inexpensive. all you need is a box fan, 4 air filters, a piece of cardboard, and some duct tape!!!!

Instead, Freire proposes that teachers and students act as co-creators of knowledge, where students become active participants in their own learning through questions and dialogue. Teachers are also open to changing their understanding of topics in the process of critical dialogue - the goal is not "student learns Fact A and memorizes it as presented," but instead the goal is the knowledge itself, discovered collaboratively by teacher and student, who are acting with empathy and respect towards each other. This also starts the process of the oppressed being able and empowered to question structures of power, take agency, and actively participate in the transformation of society.

> disables a new AI feature that was turned on by default

> opens my email

> disables a new AI feature that was turned on by default

> launches a software

Characters who’ve been told that’s why your important. Your worth something because this other person/ thing is important, and you are here solely to keep them safe.

We’re not allowed up to the fourth floor, for any reason – but I don’t blame the landlady for wanting her privacy.

Nobody but the landlady answers the strange willow-patterned telephone on the third floor landing.

We all lock our windows on full moon nights.

No couples are allowed, ever. Only single women and girls.

And sometimes, if you go down the hall to the kitchen late at night, there’s a strange black door that’s never there by daylight.

For some reason, it’s hard to get new lodgers to stay. I don’t know why. It’s a little strange, maybe, but the meals are good, Mrs Hallow the landlady is kind, and the rent is ridiculously cheap. I’ll take the strange black door and the phone that rings even when there’s no wire going to it over rats in the walls and cigarette ash in the food any day. My last boarding house was like that. I like it here.

I’d been living here for nearly two years when I lost my job working at the telephone exchange. It wasn’t my fault – they cut the night shift back, and one of the girls cut was me. Mrs Hallow told me not to worry – as I was an old lodger, she’d let me work for room and board while I looked for another job. She’s so nice, I don’t know why people say she’s creepy. It’s not her fault she’s so tall and thin, and her bones show through her fragile old skin.

I worked hard, wanting her to be glad she’d kept me. One of the jobs she gave me, since I was used to working nights, was packing lunches after supper. For the Night Gentlemen, she told me, but didn’t say more. Every night, I packed twenty lunches in twenty tin pails and filled twenty thermoses with strong coffee. I made sandwiches, and boiled eggs, sliced pickles and cheese, and packed a paper napkin into each pail. I was to have everything done by eleven, Mrs Hallow told me, for the Night Gentlemen came at midnight to collect their meals, and I should be in bed by then. By morning, the pails were all gone. By evening, they were all stacked neatly in the kitchen again, clean and ready to be filled. I never saw them come, but I supposed it must be while I was sleeping.

Then I started to worry that my lunches were dull. I baked cookies for the lunch pails, and pies and pasties. I put in different kinds of fruit and vegetables each day. The Night Gentlemen worked late hours, if they came for their lunches in the middle of the night. They needed to eat good food. I looked through Mrs Hallow’s old recipe books and tried new dishes, like german apple pancake and potato dumplings. Mrs Hallow was pleased, and said she would pay me a little wage in addition to my room and board, if I didn’t mind continuing. She was getting too old, she said, to make all those meals every night.

I had been working at the boarding house for nearly six months when I really messed up. I’d burned a whole batch of cookies to a crisp, so I had to start all over, and I didn’t have time to decorate them before evening. It was Valentine’s Day, and I felt so bad that I decided to stay up late to finish them. The Night Gentlemen didn’t come until midnight, so I had time… I thought.