#(per the student newspaper)

[athemarina]

-

[nihilisticlinguistics]

do people know why american university students are protesting at their colleges, as opposed to their places of government, etc.?

like, I'm sure some of it is proximity -- not all schools are near their state capitals or other centers of power -- but a *lot* of it, and the reason schools like Columbia are shitting themselves over these protests, is because of the endowments

[hernymills]

if there's a university near you, you can also check their community access policies. Community users may not have all the same privileges as students and faculty, like a cap on the number of books you can borrow at a time or restricted access to some of the tech, but if you're interested in specialized subject or looking for a piece of media that's too niche for your public library then please ask a university librarian!

“Books are too expensive” -> GET A LIBRARY CARD!!!

“E-books are too expensive” -> GET A LIBRARY CARD!!!

“Audiobooks are too expensive” -> GET A LIBRARY CARD!!!

“Video games are too expensive” -> GET A LIBRARY CARD!!!

“Subscriptions to magazines/newspapers are too expensive” -> GET A LIBRARY CARD!!!

For real, get a library card for your local public library and you will have almost unlimited access to all kinds of media for free. Libraries also often have many different kinds of classes you can take, often for free or very cheap. Oh, and don’t forget the computers and internet access you can also use for free.

In conclusion, yet a library card.

SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL PUBLIC LIBRARY!!!

[agustdiv1ne]

telepathy (m) — cbg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???, mind reader/telepathist!beomgyu, funeral home employee!beomgyu (it's for the plot ok???)

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.

warnings: mdni!! 18+ only, ageless blogs dni!!!, mentions of dead bodies, embalming, and funerals (though not very descriptive — it's only bc of gyu's profession), reader is a freak that listens to nsfw audios on her way to work!, gyu is a perv so it's a match made in heaven (hell?), gyu's honestly a little strange + obsessive in this...anyways, dom!gyu, sub!mc, solo male masturbation, on my big cock beomgyu agenda, very brief mentions of daddy/sir/master kinks, explicit consent is given before anything happens bc consent is sexy <3, mind manipulation (he makes it feel like he's touching her), exhibitionism in a way (it will all make sense, trust 🙏), degradation, praise, pseudo-fingering (idk how to explain it, f receiving), gyu calls mc: pretty girl, sweetheart, slut, whore, princess, mc calls gyu sir like once...whew! that was a lot, lmk if i should add anything!

note: you know i have a terrible bout of brainrot when the warnings are all nsfw related...yeah. Yeah. *presses post and runs away*

☆ playlist ☆

masterlist

beomgyu’s commute to work is, by all means, uneventful. 

the train is packed as per usual, filled to the brim with businessmen and office workers and other miscellaneous passengers on their way to whatever the hell their destination is. like most days, he finds himself towards the middle of the passenger car, snatching a rare open seat between a stone-faced man adorned in a suit — his head buried in a newspaper — and a slumped over college student nursing a cup of coffee. the poor kid almost looks like death itself, sporting dark under eyes, rumpled clothes, and a prominent slouch to his spine. not that beomgyu could really blame him; he remembers how easily college living (if you could call it living) can chip away at a person’s mental well-being. 

people-watching like this is what keeps him sane, he thinks. being surrounded by corpses all day, every day is more than draining — it sucks the soul out of him, really, being the only person on shift most of the time that he’s working, having to embalm and clean and pretty up all those cold, gray bodies so that their loved ones can say one last goodbye. it’s quiet in their minds and it’s all too quiet in the funeral home, the only sounds being the clanking of the embalming tools he’s been trained to use, his footsteps echoing down the tiled halls, his sighs of contempt when something small goes wrong — yet the living, breathing, warm people on the train provide a sense of normalcy, something to look forward to every day. to hear their thoughts, as prosaic as they are, has become a sort of saving grace from the lifeless, cold building that he finds himself in five out of the seven days of the week. honestly, if he can maintain a little bit of his humanity via strangers among the subway, even if it’s just by hearing their thoughts, then he’ll take what he can get. 

yeah, that’s the thing: beomgyu is a mind-reader, a pretty talented one at that. not that anyone knew, of course — he wouldn’t risk the government finding out. beomgyu is not usually one for promises, but he has promised himself one thing: there’s no way in hell that he will ever become one of the government’s sick little science experiments, even if his life ever hits rock bottom. he has no idea how his powers work — just that they do, and he would like to keep it that way. it’s bad enough that he doesn’t know where he got such abilities; his parents never mentioned anything about it and only ever grew worried whenever he read back their thoughts to them, so obviously the existence of his powers is some statistical anomaly in the universe. normal people can’t read others’ minds. he was forced to learn that at a very young age in order to keep himself safe. 

“how do you know that?” he remembers his mother’s alarmed tone when he first did it unknowingly, repeating back her own thoughts to her without realizing that’s what he had done. he was maybe six at the time — innocent, curious, plagued by voices in his head that he didn’t quite understand. those voices weren’t his. rather, they were his friends’, his family’s, his dentist’s and his doctor’s and his soccer coach’s voices that ricocheted about his mind uncontrollably;it was overwhelming for the young boy’s mind. the day he first admitted that he could hear them was the first day he heard his parents argue, their yelling from downstairs colliding with their internal voices in beomgyu’s mind, their terribly poignant concern for him and this development louder than any of the venomous words that they spat at each other in the living room. all he remembers from that day was himself crying, unable to block out anything that they thought, let alone his own thoughts. too much for his young mind to handle.

he heard their fear when they took him to the doctor for the first time of many, their heartache when the doctor came back and said that he might have psychosis, but more testing was needed. he heard how they started to deny it — their little boy couldn’t have that, could he? no, no he couldn’t. there’s no way he could. 

although beomgyu was young at the time, guilt ate at him. he was the one hurting his parents, he was the one making them worry. despite his official diagnosis when he was seven, something inside him knew that the doctors were wrong. those voices weren’t just the result of the machinations of his mind at work — they were voices of the people he knew, strangers who passed him on the street. what they said wasn’t evil, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. usually, it was quite mundane. at some point, he started to practice with it, trying focus on one certain voice out of the buzzing hive in his mind, blocking out the others, switching and focusing and blocking out until the action was as natural as breathing. it took him about five years before he reached that point, and after nearly two decades of living with his abilities, he’s gotten quite used to it. his mind is usually quiet — besides his own stream of consciousness — unless he allows others in. or, rather, they allow him in, which they always do. he sees it like a set of doors; open one, and you can hear that one person’s thoughts. close it, and he no longer hears them. and none of them are ever locked since no one expects to their thoughts to be read, which simply makes his life that much easier.

if he’s being honest, he didn’t used to read minds as often as he does now, but there isn’t much he can do about that now lest he go insane. beomgyu could admit that his habit was a little creepy…okay scratch that, extremely fucking creepy. these people had no idea that their minds were being infiltrated, their mental walls bypassed and their privacy violated like a computer infected with a malicious virus. it’s borderline depraved, how nonchalantly he robs these strangers of their utmost privacy, sometimes of their deepest, darkest secrets that they would never want anyone to find out about. he could sequester quite a bit of money out of some of these people, now that he thinks about it.

and sure, that may sound immoral, but beomgyu has never considered himself to be of particularly virtuous character.

without a second thought, beomgyu taps into the mind of the kid next to him. he’s thinking about how he’s failing his statistics class because he just bombed his midterm. no, now his mind is full of what he’s going to eat after his 8 a.m. class. he shifts his focus on the businessman to his right. stocks, his cheating wife, how he’s considering leaving with his mistress in the coming days…

”what a prick,” beomgyu thinks to himself, smirking a bit. just a few more stops until he gets off, now. 

he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his eyes busy. sitting on the opposite side of the college student, an elderly lady walks herself through the stew that she’s going to make for her grandchildren tonight, excitement coloring her words. it’s cute — he loves hearing things like that. wholesome thoughts are not easy to come by nowadays, given the state of the world. exhibit a: a teenager standing on the other side of the train car worries himself into a frenzy over whether the girl that he has a crush on likes him back. exhibit b: a middle aged man contemplates if he should quit his job. for a second, beomgyu thinks that he might be in the same boat as him, before realizing that he has nothing else to fall back on — exhibit c. he could keep going.

a clear, robotic voice overhead announces the subway’s arrival to the next station — his station. sighing, he sits up a little taller, slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks. a vague sense of dread weighs down his shoulders, knowing that he has a service to set up for the moment he clocks in.

he’s not looking forward to today, and yet the train still slows to a stop, the doors still slide open, and he still grabs his work briefcase from the spot between his feet. like clockwork, beomgyu maneuvers through the crowd, out the doors, and climbs the stairs up to the chilly streets of seoul.

decompressing after a slow-moving shift can take beomgyu’s night in many directions. sometimes, he simply returns home and hops into bed after a long, scalding hot shower that removes the invisible layer of grime that lays heavy on his skin. other times — typically on fridays — he’ll stop by a bar and catch up with his friends, occasionally leaving with a woman hanging off of his arm if he drinks enough to lower his inhibitions. more often than not, however, his excursions at the underground bar that taehyun is partial to end in him stumbling home alone and waking up the next morning with a raging headache. nursing a hangover alone, eating breakfast alone, bathing alone…he has never really become acclimated to it. the monster that festers inside beomgyu’s chest craves for love, for connection, for somebody to hold when the nights are too dark and his thoughts match the shade of the sky. the lack of connection is slowly getting to him. is this what insanity feels like? he wouldn’t know, nor would he like to find out. he’s sane. he’s perfectly sane. 

beomgyu understands that his profession can be off-putting to potential lovers, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice in the matter — not when his one shot at the career of his dreams crumbled below his feet when the company filed bankruptcy, sending him tumbling back down to earth, to the reality that his college degree meant little to nothing to the vast majority of employers nowadays. though he applied to dozens of jobs, the only one he ever heard back from was from the listing titled “mortuary assistant,” and in desperation, he accepted the position without much thought. maybe if he had tried a little harder to find a different company where he could apply his skills, maybe if he had pushed himself to make connections in the industry when he had the resources to do so, maybe if he had pursued music production a little harder, had not given up so readily when things grew difficult…maybe things would be different. 

beomgyu often thinks about the maybes.

this particular night, he finds himself leaned over a bar counter, a glass of amber-hued beer in hand. he half-listens to yeonjun’s slurred account of his dance crew’s latest win while he stares down at the mahogany tabletop. some condensation has gathered on the wood, and he swipes a finger through it. a slap to his shoulder brings his focus back to his surroundings.

“gyu, dude, y’should totally try out,’’ yeonjun pitches as he sloppily swings an arm over beomgyu’s shoulders. “get out of that. that—” he stumbles over his words for a moment, expression warping into a confused grimace. “that gross ass dead people building.”

beomgyu exhales a laugh as yeonjun’s head lolls against his shoulder, quietly whining about how his head hurts. while yeonjun is substantially gone already, beomgyu is only on his second beer. scanning the spacious, dim-lit room, he shakes his head. it’s times like these where he does not feel the need to slip into people’s minds — being surrounded by his friends is enough. “nah, man. i don’t think i could keep up. it’s been a while.”

“sure y’could! you’re like th’second best dancer here!” yeonjun says as his torso slumps down against the table. the bartender eyes him from further down the bar top with concern, but beomgyu sates the employee with an apologetic smile, ensuring that he turns away before setting his attention back on his friend.

beomgyu scoffs. “and i’m assuming you’re the first best?”

“uh, obviously. i literally run th’thing,” yeonjun retorts as he glares at him with a single eye open, an ear now resting on top of his crossed arms on the counter.

“yeonjun’s right,” taehyun butts in from the other side of yeonjun’s collapsed body. though his glazed over eyes give away his inebriated state, taehyun’s tolerance tends to lean much higher than yeonjun’s; this fact is confirmed by the crystal clear enunciation of his words as he continues, “you’ve been acting differently ever since you started working there. it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

great, even his friends have noticed. exhaling deeply, beomgyu nods.

“yeah, i’ll think about it.” 

as the conversation meanders off into other topics, beomgyu sinks back into his own little world. curse taehyun and his acute perceptiveness. he knows that he’s been acting off, but maybe his friends are right; he once dreamed of being a choreographer, back when he was a teen, before he discovered his love for music production. perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to try.

unintentionally, he meets the gaze of a girl sitting at a booth with her friends. he quickly averts his gaze, and by the time he looks back up, she has been roped into what seems like a shot-taking contest. six other girls circle the table, one joining the first girl in taking rapid-fire shots, four others egging them on, and one laser-focused on her phone, occasionally sipping water through a straw. from what he can gather, she’s likely the group’s designated driver — though it seems her role has morphed into more of a babysitter. she’s pretty, he’ll admit. just his type. if he was on his third or fourth beer, he’d probably be over there trying to strike up a conversation with her, rather than any of her drunk friends. 

as she looks up and throws a cursory glance around the bar, she catches him staring, her kohl-lined eyes meeting his own. an eyebrow raises as her gloss-coated lips twist, as if to say “don’t even try it.”

oh, how terribly he wishes to slip into her mind and let her know that he has no intention to. 

the ear-piercing screech of yeonjun’s barstool to his right tears his gaze away from her. yeonjun now stands, one arm around taehyun and the other around soobin, the latter sporting a borderline disgusted grimace directed at the older boy hanging off of him while kai simply stands behind the trio of men. yeonjun’s head hangs low below his shoulders, chin nearly touching his chest, as he emits a pathetic groan. at least he’s not puking this time.

“we’re about to go grab some food. this one,” taehyun’s head nods to yeonjun’s sagging frame. “definitely needs it. you coming?”

unwilling to allow the night to end quite yet, beomgyu hums, quickly pays his tab, and allows the brief, silent encounter with the woman to fade away into the back of his mind.

the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.

surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies. 

still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you. 

it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.

your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight. 

you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior. 

then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.

you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”

beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?

he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again. 

he should do something about this little development, shouldn’t he?

yeah, he thinks that he should. a sick sort of curiosity wins over the more logical side of his brain, the side that tells him that he should feel guilty for even thinking about what he’s about to do. he can’t, can he? no, he can — he wants to, he really fucking wants to. opportunities like this don’t just present themselves on a silver platter like this on the regular. if he doesn’t take this chance, then he’d be an absolute fool. 

the subway slows to a stop, the weirdly cheery, robotic voice calling out another stop. not his, thank god. he takes this opportunity to open that pesky little door to your mind again, now fully expecting the depravity echoing in your brain — and rather than do anything drastic too quickly, he simply sits there and listens. he listens through an entire audio alongside you, ignoring the twitch of his cock as he listens to the woman be degraded and praised, in missionary and in doggy, her moans mixing with the man's in a cacophony of pleasure — he loves the way you jump when the sound of a hand striking flesh sounds through your mind. your fleeting sigh of “god, i wish that were me,” causes him to bite his lip. you like being treated like a slut, huh? like a stupid little whore only made to take cock? that’s music to his ears, really — because he likes treating girls like that too. 

as sick and disgusting as it is, he continues to listen as if mindlessly tuning in to a podcast, subtly adjusting himself in his pants as he fights off a raging boner. he wants to be the one to do those things to you. he wants to make you scream and sob and beg for mercy as he completely ravages your body, fuck you until you’re brainless, perfect little slut for him. you’d love that, according to the audios you consume for the remainder of his commute — to be fucked so hard you legs give out from under you, to be owned, fully and completely. he likes that sound of that as well.

a few minutes into the second audio, you take another glance at him, eyes squeezing shut right away once you catch his gaze — and suddenly, your thoughts are full of him. he’s encountered countless strangers who can perfectly visualize their streams of consciousness, and you seem to be yet another one of them. images of you on your knees between his thighs and sucking his cock in the middle of this subway car flood his own mind, switching to one of him fucking you from behind against the wall while everyone else watches, then to him finger fucking you with a hand around your throat…what the fuck. what the fuck? how do you just do that? how do you think of such terribly shameless things while looking so pretty and demure, as if you’re a shy little thing rather than some fucking whore? he shifts his briefcase over his lap again. fuck, he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. shit, fuck. 

he should be appalled by you, but fiery, ardent lust is the sole emotion that floods his veins. would it be a bad idea to talk to you? no, you want it. you want it so fucking bad. just look at your mind — and he can make all your dirty little fantasies come true, if you would let him. 

just as he’s about to actually do something about you, the subway slows to a stop once again, the same cheery voice announcing his stop. god dammit. pushing himself up to his feet, he finds that you’re doing the same, wide eyes flitting around nervously as you move towards the door and stop nearly right next to him, those earbuds that hide your biggest secret in plain sight still stuck in your ears. he can still hear those degrading words and moans and slapping sounds that still echo through your mind, loud and clear as if those white earbuds are sitting snug in his own ears. 

the doors slide open, and soon enough, he loses sight of you in the surging crowd. stepping out of the subway, he looks around once, twice. you have completely disappeared; nowhere to be found, your mind has grown too far from his own for him to locate nor access, the tether between the two of you frayed to the point of snapping in half. with a brief purse of his lips, he sets off up the stairs. it’s fine, there’s always another day. it’s fine, he tells himself over and over again. there’s nothing he could have done in such a short time, anyway. 

the sun sits high in the sky today, but the bone-chilling air cuts through his puffy coat like tiny needles puncturing his skin, or millions of scalpels slicing open flesh nearly to the bone, cold and sterile and far from comforting. autumn shouldn’t be this cold, and his slightly soured mood isn’t helping his case right now. he should have done something back there, he should’ve opened up the channel between the two of you and taken the plunge. it wouldn’t have hurt to try, but no. no, he let that opportunity go like every other one he’s had in his life. with his jaw set, he promises himself that it won’t happen again. it won’t, because if he keeps living like this — allowing all these opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand — he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

and honestly, beomgyu is no clairvoyant, and he should brush off the tickle in his brain as a stupid, naive hunch…but he has a compelling feeling that he’ll be seeing you again tomorrow. 

when beomgyu returns home, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, he doesn’t unwind like he usually does. today’s shift was a slow one, with no bodies to preen and primp and no services to set up for, so most of his time was taken up with cleaning, filing documents, and sitting around aimlessly. no matter how much he tried to fend them off, thoughts of you bounced around in his brain for the entire eight hours he was on shift. fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, much less anything else about you, yet he wishes he could travel back in time and redo this morning all over again. he’s not sure how it would have panned out, exactly, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve that would’ve made it exciting.

he shakes his head. the current moment presents much more pressing matters than ruminating on this morning’s terrible decisions; the strain in his trousers proves to be a pertinent issue, a tent formed in the black fabric and aching to be touched. now that the public eye no longer holds his gaze, his apartment door locked shut behind him, he allows himself to give in to his most base instincts. a hand comes down to cup his hardness as he imagines his fingers as yours, you on your knees below him, those adorably wide eyes staring up at him in desperation. you’d wait for permission, right? you’d beg so prettily like a good little slut should? fuck yeah, you would. you’d be good, you’d take what he would give you — and you would love it. 

groaning, he crashes onto his couch, head throwing back against the back cushion as he gropes his cock harder. he’s forgone slipping off his dress shoes and has barely even slipped his coat off before he’s giving in to the pulsing ache in his groin that’s nearly unbearable, the white hot need swirling in his stomach that demands his immediate attention. his belt quickly unbuckled and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, he slips his cock from his boxers, gasping at how sensitive he has become. 

“oh fuck,” he breathes out into the quiet air, a shuddered sigh following when his thumb swipes over the angry red head, the bead of precum that has gathered there spreading across his skin. he brings his hand up to his lips, gathering some spit beneath his tongue before letting in loll into his palm. bringing it back down, he drags his hand up and down his shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as pleasure rushes through his veins. he pumps his cock steadily, hips rolling up into his hand as if fucking your throat. eyes fluttering closed, his free hand grips the couch, fingernails digging into the worn leather and leaving half-moon indents in their wake. “fuck. god, fuck.”

would you be able to take him? he’s been told he’s big, most women barely able to take him even after extensive prep. he imagines how you’d keen as he enters you, your back arching so prettily and your walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. how you’d choke and gag on his cock if he decided to use your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you peer up at him pathetically, fingers digging into your thighs as you resist the urge to touch yourself. would you like to be slapped around a little, punished with spankings and little taps to your cheek? 

“focus,” he mumbles to no one. to you. “focus, slut. be good for me.” 

he’s delirious at this point, has dived so deep into his fantasies that he barely registers that he’s fucking his fist and not your mouth or sweet little cunt. that doesn’t stop his fingers from tightening their grip, squeezing the head before gliding back down again, then back up, the rhythm of his hips growing frenzied as his high inches closer. his free hand smooths up his stomach, taking his button-up with it as he clenches it with desperate fingers. he bites down on the fabric, pumping himself once, twice, three times before his high hits him, his cum spurting out in staccato ribbons. he’s making a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care when this is the best orgasm he’s had in months. the shirt falls from his mouth as he moans unabashedly. 

“take it,” he groans, his hips canting upward. “fuckin’— fuckin’ take it. shit. such a perfect little whore for me.”

he cums and he cums, spilling all over himself until he’s milked dry. eyes closed, his contracted muscles melt into the couch, hot pants replacing his moans and groans. a few minutes pass before he fully comes down from his headspace and returns back to earth, only for him to realize just how much he came, staining his clothes and coating his skin in creamy white. he blinks. 

reality crashes down on his head. 

he just…jerked off to you. he just came so hard he saw stars just from the mere thought of you. oh, he’s in deeper than he first thought. too deep, too quickly, he can barely breathe. 

“fuck,” beomgyu murmurs as he stares down at his cum-covered abdomen, his sticky hand. “fuck.”

beomgyu was right: you do come back the next day. and the next. and the next.

over the remainder of the work week, he watches you — well, more so listens to you, but he can’t deny himself the little glimpses he allows himself to take, drinking in how you worry your bottom lip, how the muscles in your throat contract each time you gulp. the poker face that you don crumbles oh so easily whenever he meets your stray gaze. it’s exhilarating, knowing the power he, a complete stranger, has over you. your microscopic slips in expression remain undetected to the rest of the passengers, but he sees every single one. they’re a perfectly entertaining backdrop for your explicit musings. 

he knows he could approach you like a normal human being would, but where’s the fun in that? he’s not quite a normal person in his own right, anyway. instead, he’s decided to keep you in his sights, learning what exactly you enjoy, what you like to hear, preparing for the day where he again gathers the courage to toy with you within the walls of your mind. he’s in deep, and at this point, he’s accepted it if only to justify his sadistic obsession with you. actually, on second thought, he wouldn’t quite call it an obsession, perhaps a morbid curiosity more than anything. yeah, that’s all it can be.

it’s almost as if the universe has sent him a little present in the form of you, an apology for the trials and tribulations that whatever is above has rained down on him this past year or so. of course he’s going to savor it. who wouldn’t? so he sticks to his plan, and keeps watching you, listening to you, observing you, identifying your little quirks and deepest, darkest desires. they’ll be quite useful later, he’s sure. 

over his…research period, he’s found out a lot about you. you like to be bullied, to be called a slut, a whore, but you also enjoy a little praise mixed in: good slut, good whore, pretty girl is so obedient for sir, for daddy, for master. you’re also not too picky in what you listen to, as long as it contains a male dominant in some capacity. couple’s content, threesomes, gangbangs are all on the table, as are solo audios that usually have some sort of plot to them — coworkers to lovers' first date that ends in sex? check. hot librarian who fucks over a table you after closing? that too. he could go on about what he’s heard in just the solo audios you consume, but even that list would be exhaustive. 

by the time friday rolls around, he doesn’t even have to try to search for your mind; call him crazy, but it’s almost as if you, on some subconscious level, know that he wants in and are more than willing to let him. as if you keep the door cracked open just for him. 

at least, he likes to think that you do. 

staying close, but not too close, to you proves to be difficult today. fridays bring with them a surge of new faces that crowd the subway car, which is generally quite annoying, but at the moment, he also finds it to be frustrating. no seats are open when he boards, he can’t even see you through the dense crowd, but you’re there. your mind is there, open and waiting for him to enter.

though he won’t be able to see your cute little reactions, he steps through that mental threshold. 

“it’s okay, baby. shh, don’t cry, you can cum. cum for me, just let go,” a gentle voice coos. aw, you must be having a rough morning, how sad. the only other day you listened to these kinds of audios, you looked absolutely miserable, the corners of your lips pulled down and a deep, pathetic furrow to your brows — it was wednesday, that’s right. two days ago, when you seemed frazzled and completely out of it. a little digging resulted in him learning that you had spilled your coffee all over the concrete on the way here, you thought your hair didn’t look right (even though, to him, it did, it looked perfect — he wished he could’ve told you that), and worst of all, your boss emailed you late the previous night to admonish you for your performance, demanding a meeting first thing that morning. 

still, he wishes he could take care of your boss, eliminate that weight off of your shoulders. if it were up to him, your boss would be sitting in the morgue at his place of work, gray and comatose and unable to admonish you for things that beomgyu is sure you had no control over. because that’s how offices work, right? sink or swim, big fish eat the little ones, blaming those below them for everything they should be taking responsibility for. your boss has to be one of those. he was pig-nosed and donning a constant sneer when you pictured the verbal berating you’d be getting once you got to your workplace. 

that day, he found himself thinking about how he’s become pretty talented with a scalpel. 

“good girl. doing so well for me, pretty girl,” the same voice soothes, soft cries and sniffles from the submissive mixing with the gentle words. he could treat you all sweet too. he could be anything you want, if only you knew him. 

he wants you to know him — needs you to, really.

there’s no clear cut reason for your current sour mood, your thoughts too jumbled together for him to properly decipher. are you picking apart your appearance? did you wake up late? is this all because of your boss again? he might just kill the bastard if that’s the case…if only he could approach you, tell you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t want to knock down the house of cards he’s spent such precious time building over the course of the week. you’re too special for that. it’s the very reason why he tries to blend into the crowd, why he tries to keep eye contact to a minimum. the last thing he needs is for you to run away from him when you’re one of the only things holding him together.

when the car slows to his and your stop, disappointment nips at the space between his eyebrows. he didn’t even get to see you today, and the end of the work week means that he won’t be seeing you for two entire days. sighing, he falls into his typical routine: move towards the doors, wait for them to open, and follow the other exiting passengers out. where could you be? you’re still here, he knows that much since he’s still connected to you, still hears those soft words and moans, but where the fuck are you? you, as in your body. that you.

with a single cursory glance around, he swears he catches a glimpse of your figure before the crowd swallows you whole. as he’s shoved towards the stairs by the crowd, his chest grows heavy.

friday has just begun, but monday couldn’t come any faster. 

“so, are you gonna try out?”

yeonjun is far more sober compared to last friday night, his eyes lacking that fatigued droop they always get whenever he’s had too much. beomgyu tears his glazed-over gaze away from the television screen to look at the yeonjun, sinking further into the couch below him. he points to himself. “me?”

yeonjun rolls his eyes, a knee swinging over the arm of the armchair he sits in. “who the fuck else would i be talking to?”

scoffing, beomgyu shoots him a glare. “i don’t know, man. y’don’t have to be a dick about it.”

the open bottle of beer in beomgyu’s hand chills his fingertips, so he switches it to his other hand before taking another sip. meanwhile, soobin plops down next to him with an already open bag of chips, offering some to him. he shakes his head, and soobin shrugs, beginning to munch on them by himself. 

“i’m serious though,” yeonjun continues. “you should really try out. there’s not much to it, just dance to one song and you’re done. i���d probably pass you even if you sucked.”

“that’s nepotism,” taehyun chimes in from the floor, eyes trained on the screen as he shoots a player down in the game him and kai are currently obsessed with. the sound of gunfire fills the living room of soobin and yeonjun’s apartment, the murmurs of the two boys a low drone beneath it as they figure out their best strategy to win. 

he almost wishes he lived here with soobin and yeonjun, or with the other two. yeonjun and soobin, taehyun and kai — only beomgyu lives alone. alone doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, but in beomgyu’s case, it does. maybe that’s why he’s latched onto you so hard: to cure his loneliness. he swats that thought away like one would a pesky mosquito. he hasn’t latched onto you, he admonishes himself, he’s simply curious. yeah, curious. 

just a little innocent curiosity. 

disregarding taehyun’s comment, yeonjun raises an eyebrow towards beomgyu. “i know i was drunk when i said that shit last week, but you really have been acting weird since you started at that job. we’ve all noticed.”

“yeah, it’s like you’ve gotten more reserved, or something,” soobin says, words muffled by his chewing. beomgyu grimaces, shifting closer to the arm of the couch. 

“you’re the most introverted one here, you can’t say shit,” kai snorts. soobin throws a chip at his head.

“anyway,” yeonjun butts in with a scalding glare before an argument can begin. soobin and kai blanch, mouths closing. “we’re just…concerned about you.”

“is this some kind of intervention?” beomgyu laughs, disbelief apparent in his tone. he’s fine. he has you now.

“no, we just want you to know that there’s other things you could do that would make you happier than work at a fucking funeral home,” taehyun says, eyes still not straying from the tv. 

“like joining my dance crew,” yeonjun tacks on. 

beomgyu sighs. they’re kind of right, if he’s being honest with himself, but is he ready to put himself out there again? is he ready to face the potential of rejection, of failure? he’s had his life fall apart in front of his eyes once already, what if it happens again?

“...i guess.”

“c’mon.” yeonjun shifts around until he’s leaning on his elbows, focus solely on beomgyu. “tryouts are next saturday. i know how fast you can learn choreography. hell, you could probably learn something in a couple hours and be fine.”

“honestly, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” soobin chimes in. “it might end in something good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu says before taking another large swig of beer. “yeah, i know.”

and so another weekend passes, and monday returns once again. 

soobin’s brief, sage advice plays through his mind again and again. although he understands that soobin meant for it to apply to his current career situation, beomgyu has adopted it for his situation with you instead. he should try, he’s going to try, eventually. 

it might end in something good, he tells himself over and over again. he has to try.

mondays are a bit less excruciating now that you’re around. he has only known you for a week, but it’s been long enough to know that you make his day-to-day routine bearable — hell, he’ll stay at his terrible job as long as you keep showing up each morning. the day that you don’t will be the nail in his coffin — he chuckles at his stupid joke. yeonjun is rubbing off on him too much.

the sky is overcast today, and endless expanse of gray that contrasts the warmth of the changing leaves that line the sidewalk. it might rain soon, he surmises, but he hopes that it won’t. he’s forgone an umbrella today. digging his hands further into his coat pockets, he ducks into the subway station, descending the stairs and weaving through the crowd until he finds his usual platform. when he gets there, you’ve already arrived, ears vacant of those white earbuds, but it’s not a foreign sight to him. you typically put them in once you sit down. the fact that you get on and get off at the same stop as him…he almost likes to think of all of this as fate. 

maybe the universe really is trying to apologize. 

the subway arrives at the platform a few minutes later — minutes in which he tries not to stare at you. he’s not a creep, he swears that he’s not. he’s not a creep, he’s not a creep — he repeats this to himself as he follows behind you into the subway car the two of you frequent, he finds a seat across from you a few feet to your left. he can’t be too obvious.

and most importantly, he’s not a creep. 

you dig around in your bag. ah, here come those infamous earbuds, he’s sure of it — but then they don’t, and then the digging through your bag grows a degree more frantic, your lips parting as you continue shoving whatever is in there aside in search of your most precious possession.

you feel like crying as panic surges through your veins. oh god, you forgot them. how could you have forgotten them? what are you going to do now? 

beomgyu decides to tap into your mind in that moment, finding you in an unbelievably frazzled state. his heart clenches in his chest, he wishes he could help somehow…

wait. he could…oh my god, he could. no, that’s sick, he’s not a creep — well, no, he could. he definitely fucking could, and you’d probably end up liking it…

he could be your temporary replacement for today — no, he could become your constant source, the one you need to get through the day. he could become your audios. he wants to. they’d be far more…interactive, if he did, after all. you’d love what he could do to your pretty fucking body just with access to your mind. reading thoughts isn’t the only thing he can do — and soobin’s right: he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. how could he sit here any longer and not give in to his burning desire to ravage you? you know what? fuck it. this is the perfect opportunity, served up once again on a silver platter, waiting for him to take. he’s not going to let it slip away again — and oh, you just look so devastated right now, how terrible would he be if he didn’t help you?

in a split-second moment, beomgyu decides that today is the day. deep breath. focus. okay, he can do this. one, two, three…

“hello, pretty girl.”

you flinch before you look up and around, only to find no one is looking at you — well, he is, but through his peripherals. wouldn’t want to get caught, would he? suppressing a smirk at your reaction, he shifts in his seat.

“was someone just talking to me?” you ask yourself, brows furrowing as your eyes continue to dart around. your hand comes up to your ear to see if you accidentally remembered your earbuds, your frown deepening when you register that they are, indeed, not in your ears. glancing around again, your eyes skirt over his form. he shivers at the thought of what’s to come, biting his lip as he avoids your gaze. “is this some sort of prank?”

“calm down, sweetheart, this isn’t a prank. now, stop looking around, you’re the only one who heard me.”

your brain flits from thought to thought so quick he can barely keep up, the volume of them rising as you panic. your fingers clench the strap of your purse as if to ground yourself. “am i hallucinating right now? what the fuck? this has to be a prank. should i go to the doctor’s? no, my boss would kill me if i called out, but fuck, i should really go if i’m hearing things—”

beomgyu chuckles, the sound echoing through your mind as well. freezing, your muscles lock up as you look around again. your distressed stream of consciousness stops for a moment, before resuming at a much more rapid pace. “what the fuck, i need to call out right now, where’s my phone—”

sighing, he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. so cute, how easily you spiral. “quiet that pretty little head of yours, pretty girl. you’re not hallucinating, this is all real. very real.”

a few moments pass before your internal freakout quiets down. for once, silence fills your mind…and rather than him break it, it’s you: “someone’s…talking to me through my mind? this is real?”

“such a smart girl. you figured it out so quickly,” beomgyu taunts, resisting the urge to coo again. adrenaline rushes through his veins, urging him to continue. you need him. he can make you happy. he just needs to hear you say it.

your thighs press together at the praise, fingers digging into the trousers you had chosen to wear. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. this is strange, terribly strange, and even a little frightening, now that you are aware that someone — that a complete stranger, at that — has full reign over your conscious. yet, at the same time, you’re curious to see how this will play out.

“and you can speak to me, too, if you focus hard enough…” his voice trails off. okay, you can do that. allowing your eyelids to flutter shut, you begin to breathe deeply until even the mechanical noises of the subway and the murmurs of passengers vacate your senses. mind empty, you exhale a shaky breath. focus. stay focused. 

“hmm, impressive. you’re a natural at this.” god, he needs to quit praising you like that with his deep voice. by the way he laughs, you know he heard that too. fuck. 

“who are you and why the fuck are you in my brain?” you decide to ask. straight to the point, no fluff to it, it’s reminiscent of your attitude at the bar where he first laid eyes upon you. this is the wall you put up towards strangers and any other threat to your life, but little do you know, beomgyu’s breached that wall already. this is just a little front. “answer me, you fucking asshole—”

“woah, woah, watch the language. why would i tell you who i am? it’s much more exciting this way, don’t you think?” the smile in his voice is unmistakable, but he purses his lips to keep them from curling upward. 

you start to gnaw on your bottom lip, biting hard enough for pain to bloom across your nerve endings. this is stranger you’re talking to right now, a stranger who you’re talking to through your fucking thoughts. this is weird. you never signed up for this. “get the hell out of my mind before— before i—” 

“before you what? can’t kick me out, you don’t know how to do that, pretty girl.”

fuck, he’s right — wait, if he’s in your mind right now, can he also control it? is he going to hurt you? is he going to make you his puppet and go on a murder spree? is he in this car with you, or somewhere else? what if…what if…

beomgyu can almost feel your panic swelling in his own chest. fuck, he needs to put a stop to your spiraling before it gets out of control. if you freak out now, then all of his work over the past week will be for naught. after all, he’s not going to do anything without your permission. the last thing he wishes to do is scare you off completely before he can have his fun. with great urgency, he cuts off your ramblings, “hey, now, relax for me, princess. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m as human as you are, just a bit…different, i guess. and i am in the same car as you right now.”

rather than respond, you look around again, eyeing every single man around you with suspicion, even him. he stares at the floor, maintaining what he hopes to be a neutral, borderline bored, expression. he needs to keep it together. he’s gotten this far, he can’t ruin this. “looking around again, huh? if i were that easy to spot, then this game wouldn’t be very fun, would it?” 

“game? fucking with my mind is a game to you?” 

the corners of his lips twitch up before he’s forcing them back down. this is it, the moment he has been waiting oh so patiently for. keep it together.

“well, not really — i actually have a proposition for you, if you’d hear me out.”

scoffing, you urge him along. “just get on with it.”

“so impatient. that’s okay. i can work with that,” he smirks. “i know what you listen to every morning, you know.”

your heart drops to your stomach. he what? oh god, you think you’re going to be sick. your arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing hard. this is bad, this is really fucking bad. “do you want money, or something? are— are you trying to blackmail me right now? i’ll have you know, i’m actually kinda broke right now. i really don’t wanna end up homeless, can you just. pick someone else to fuck with? there’s like twelve different businessmen in this car, i’m sure they’re rich and corrupt—”

beomgyu’s brows raise imperceptibly. jesus, are you always this flighty? “woah, chill. i’m not here to judge you — or blackmail you, for that matter. i’m not evil. aw, don’t look all shameful now. i told you i’m not here to judge — i actually wanna help you, if you’d let me.”

“help me?” you dumbly echo. “help me how?”

“well,” he starts. “i noticed you forgot your earbuds today, and you just looked so sad and lost without them. how else are you going to get through your commute? and then i thought maybe i could do something about that. y’know, help you out, get you through the morning.”

“so you invaded my privacy just to tell me that you wanna dirty talk to me for the rest of my commute? is that what you mean? ‘cause if so, that’s pretty weird,” you reply, though your stray thoughts that dart around tell him that you’re actually considering his offer — it’s tempting, isn’t it? to give in, to let his deep voice get you all squirmy and needy, knowing he could be anyone in this subway car. still, your words make him laugh, because of course you’re deflecting right now. it’s okay, he hasn’t given you the full story quite yet.

“that’s only part of my offer, princess,” he starts. “i can read minds, yes, but i can also do…other things.”

oh, you’re really considering it now. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him. his voice is nice, and maybe, just maybe, it’s kind of making you horny. after a deep, long breath, you gulp once, then, with curiosity dripping from your tone, you ask, “...like what?”

jackpot.

beomgyu’s high on a mix of adrenaline and dopamine, utterly giddy because he’s got you right where he wants you, where he needs you. he’s played his cards just right, shoved your worries to the side and drew out your curiosity enough that you’ve taken his bait. perfect, oh, this is perfect. he knew you’d be good for him.

“it would be much easier for me to show you.”

“then show me,” you immediately reply, heat flooding your cheeks at the sheer desperation in your voice. god, calm down. he hasn’t even done anything yet.

chuckling at your internal conflict, he decides not to comment. “tell me if you don’t like something. i’ll stop.” he watches as you slightly nod to yourself, a soft “okay,” echoing through your head and into his — thus, he sets his plan into action. 

something warm caresses your calf, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. your eyes widen — was that a hand? it definitely felt like one, the way it creeped up the back of your leg, calloused fingertips pressing into your skin. a shiver races down your spine. that had to have been him. 

“it was,” he confirms, then his voice is growing impossibly deeper, adopting that gruff edge that you love so much. “you want more, princess? i can give you more.”

another phantom hand skirts over your waist, dragging down over your hips to your right thigh, just to stop there. biting your bottom lip, you nod, hoping that whoever is in your head right now sees it, wherever he is. the hand moves to your inner thigh; despite how tightly pressed together they are, it skirts over your skin with ease, seemingly beneath your trousers. “i need words, pretty girl, or i might just stop right now. and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

no, you wouldn’t, not at this point. the unbearable ache currently building in your core makes you want to cry; you haven’t felt this level of desperation in a while, and you need to be touched. you need it so fucking bad. 

“please.” the single word comes out meek, quiet. shame flushes your face, a fiery heat that spreads up to your ears and down your neck. 

you hear the way his breath shudders, causing your own hitch. “fuck, you’re so cute, but i need more than that. beg. beg for me to touch you.”

his voice — fuck, his voice is so deep, so dark and wanton. you wonder what he sounds like when he’s moaning, how he would sound if he fucked you, pounded you into the mattress so hard you saw stars. the image of a faceless stranger fucking you from behind, your back arched behind you and your face buried in the sheets, as he holds your wrists behind your back flits across the big screen of your mind. you shake it away, but the man in your head is already tutting. “use your words, sweetheart, not pictures — though i’d love to do that to you too. you’ve got quite the imagination on you.” 

beomgyu’s cock twitches in his boxers as you whine, frantic pleas bubbling up from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind once he takes the sensation of his hand away from your thigh. you sound halfway dumb already, begging for his hands, his cock, his tongue — anything. you’ll take anything just, “please, sir. please touch me. need you to touch me so bad.”

you don’t even know who he is, yet you’re being so obedient, calling him sir, begging so sweetly for him — it’s like you’re begging straight into his ear. his heart swells at the thought, as does his cock. you sound so pretty, but he finds himself wishing he could hear these words come from your lips instead. 

“yeah? my little slut needs more?” he prods, laughing meanly when you whimper out a yes. “aw, ‘course she does. desperate whores always need more, don’t they? so greedy.”

you have to swallow down a whimper at that, focusing so intently on keeping quiet that your nails have dug into your palms deep enough to almost break skin. the pain seems to help keep you grounded — that is, until you feel the sting of a palm against your backside. you flinch in your seat, gasping sharply. the man sitting next to you glances over, but you only hang your head and shrink into yourself. he looks away. 

“focus, whore. you’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”

two hands are touching you now. one cupping your pussy, the other wrapped around your throat, pressing into the sides of your neck so you start to grow dizzy. the hand on your throat releases its grip to slide down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples before a thumb swipes over the pebbled flesh. your back arches off of your seat when the sensation morphs into that of lips, plush warmth enveloping your tit before the sharp bite of teeth interrupts. you inhale a shaky breath from your nose as lips return to soothe the sting. despite the hard press of your thighs, the hand on your pussy drags up and down your folds, dipping down to your entrance before dragging up to your clit. a tiny squeak sneaks up your throat before you’re masking it with a cough. 

“aren’t you just a sensitive little thing? so wet too,” he coos, shifting his briefcase over his lap to gain some semblance of friction. his fingertips tingle as if your wetness coats them right now. fuck, he’s hard. if it were up to him, you’d be taking his cock right now, moaning so prettily as he presses you up against the wall and fucks up into you, your legs giving out from under you because he’s just making you feel so good, isn’t he? never mind that, he has a job to do. “how about i just…”

two lithe fingers breach your walls while a thumb continues to slowly circle your clit, barely brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. you feel like you’re going insane, trying your best to hold still as his fingers begin to move inside you, curling up into your walls. searching, he’s searching for that spot inside you that will get you crying—

then he finds it. 

your knee jerks up, your legs falling open slightly before you’re pressing them closed again as he abuses it over and over again, crooking his fingers just right to find it with each thrust. your hips roll up into the sensation, stilling as soon as you realize that you’re squirming too much, being too obvious. people are starting to stare, calm down. calm the fuck down.

god, you don’t think you can. it’s too difficult to keep still with the way he’s finger-fucking you right now. with the way there’s lips suddenly circling your clit, sucking the pearl in so that his tongue can play with it. little kitten licks that make you want to scream and cry and beg for mercy because you don’t know if you can keep up this front of normalcy with the way he’s touching you.

it’s like he’s speaking directly into your ear right now, warm breath fanning over your earlobe, your cheek. “wanna see you fall apart, wanna see you lose it in front of all of these people, baby. bet you wanna cum right now, yeah? just wanna feel good, don’t even care if you quake and cry in public? you’re that fucking desperate for it?” 

you nod to yourself, eyes squeezing shut. you’re so close. oh god, you’re going to cum. you’re going to cum like a brainless whore in the middle of a fucking subway car. you’re sick. you’re fucking sick for enjoying this.

you’re just as bad as him, beomgyu decides. he knew you’d like what he could give you, he knew you needed him. it was just a matter of time before you realized that fact. that’s okay, because he needs you just as badly. it’s a carnal need, white hot in the center of his stomach — fuck, he’s obsessed with you. he wants you to be his forever. 

and beomgyu knows you’re close, but he’s not quite ready to give you what you want. 

“please, oh god. please let me cum. fuckfuckfuck— no, please don’t stop!” you cry as he slows the pace of his fingers. “please no, ‘m so close! no no no—”

“you drive me crazy, it’s only fair if i return the favor. makes it more fun.” ripping the sensation away from you completely, he watches you bottom lip tremble as you blink back tears, your body melting into your seat as the pleasure fades away. “now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart. i have something even better for you.”

a few seconds pass before something breaches your entrance, your walls stretching to their limit, yet the sting of pain never arrives. filled to the brim, you throw your head back against the window behind you. to others, you seem to just be resting your eyes, but the way your mouth falls open is not lost on beomgyu. he knows you can feel him everywhere, knows you can feel the way the head of his cock nearly touches your cervix, how it presses into every single sensitive spot inside you. he knows he’s big, but you take it like a champ, your hips grinding down into the seat, as if to bring him deeper inside you. what a little whore, his little whore. 

“y’feel that, pretty girl? feel my big fucking cock inside you?” he asks as your chest heaves, a feeble attempt in holding yourself together. “calm down, now. i’m gonna start moving, okay?”

he doesn’t wait for your response before he’s spoon-feeding you the sensation of his cock pulling out until nothing but his cockhead remains within your walls. a few seconds pass, then your begging returns. tearful, this time, fucking pathetic. he basks in the power that rushes through his entire being. you need him. you need him in order to feel good, and he loves that you do. he brings a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, hissing quietly at the ache that the action brings. he needs to fuck you right now. physically fuck you, none of this thought manipulation bullshit — but no, he has to be patient. he can be patient as long as it’s you. 

the subway is slowing down again, and he comes to the gross realization that he only has a few minutes before both of you must depart. dammit, he has to make this quick. 

meanwhile, you’re already halfway to your high just at the mere feeling of him inside you. as soon as his cock begins to move again, you’re choking back moans, head hanging low as your muscles tense and your hands press into your lap. you can feel him in your throat each time he thrusts back in, his thrusts growing faster and faster until he’s pounding into you. 

“fuck fuck fuckkkkk!” you wail, encouraging him to continue. in reality, your walls clench around nothing, but your mind paints a different picture. you almost beg for him to cum inside, but you cant find the words, too fucked out to think about anything else but the knot in your stomach that grows tighter with each passing second. “fuck, please. please, fuck i’m, nghh—”

imaginary fingers swipe across your clit, and you’re a goner. 

thighs quaking, your release coats your panties, walls fluttering, but the movement of his cock doesn’t stop until you’re begging for mercy. beomgyu almost cums in his pants at the depraved wails you emit, half-baked sentences pleading for him to “s-slow down, please. i can’t, no, i can’t — shit!”

finally — finally — he grants you reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. your body slumps into your seat, your eyes shut as you begin to float back down to earth. the clack-clack-clack of the subway slows until it stops completely. the usual robotic voice announces his stop, but you seem so out of it that you don’t even register that you need to get off. 

“good job, baby. you put on quite the show for me,” he praises as he rises to his feet. luckily, he decided on wearing a longer coat today which he uses to cover up his raging hard-on. this has to be fate.

no response. with an excited gleam in his eye, he disconnects from your mind and moves towards you. looming above you, he drinks in the beads of sweat that have formed along your hairline, the wrinkles in your trousers where you gripped the fabric a wee bit too hard, your dreamy eyes and how they blink down at his black loafers before raising to meet his own. concern has painted itself across his features, his head tilting as he holds your bleary gaze.

“are you alright, miss? you look a bit ill.”

you blink once. twice. god, how are you so cute even after getting fucked so hard? he can barely control himself from blurting out who he is.

“what—what stop is this?” you ask him, eyes wide and red-rimmed from your earlier tears. he tells you, and he watches those same eyes widen. “oh shit, this is my stop!”

attempting to stand, you stumble straight into his chest. he catches you with gentle hands before he’s helping you steady yourself. your legs tremble like those of a newborn fawn, sexy yet terribly adorable. he gulps at the image of you unable to walk, legs so sore that you’re forced to let him dote on you, that forms inside his mind. later. that can come later, don’t get too hasty. 

“oh, you’re a bit shaky there,” he murmurs, a hand curling around you elbow when you stumble again. “are you sure you’re alright?”

“i’m f-fine, sorry for the trouble,” you reply with a polite, yet jittery, smile, stepping away from him. he wants to tell you to come closer again, he wants to smell your sweet perfume again, feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips. 

but good things come to those who wait.

“no worries.” with a charming smile, he shuffles beside you, until the two of you have exited with the rest of the crowd. he catches your wrist before you can get too far, and you turn to face him once more. afterglow looks wonderful on you. “it looks like we’re getting off at the same stop today, so would you like me to walk with you until you’re feeling a bit better? i’m sure some fresh air will do you good.”

you pause for a moment, hesitating. have you seen him somewhere before? you feel like you have. “i…that would be great, actually. thank you.”

“of course,” he nods, holding back a smirk. he can’t help the words that escape him next.

“lead the way, then…pretty girl.”

the way you look back at him with alarmed realization — even a hint of fear — causes a grin to split open his lips. you begin to sputter as you back away, but he merely follows with light, casual steps. “w-what, who—who are you—”

his smile grows knife-sharp. the door opens — it always does. 

“aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he coos inside your mind, biting his lip as he watches your knees buckle. “who else could it be?”

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

15 Ways to Improve Your Vocabulary

in response to:

1. Develop a reading habit. Reading is the most effective way to build your vocabulary. Read books, magazines, and newspapers that cover a wide range of topics, and pay attention to unfamiliar words. Look up their meanings and try using them in context. Vocabulary building is easiest when you encounter words in context. Seeing words appear in a novel or a newspaper article can be far more helpful than seeing them appear on vocabulary lists. Not only do you gain exposure to unfamiliar words; you also see how they’re used. In fact, 15 minutes is recognized as the ideal time for students to see positive gains in reading achievement; students who read just over a half-hour to an hour per day improve the most.

2. Utilize word lists. They are incredibly flexible tools that can help you organize your learning in a variety of ways. For instance, vocabulary can be grouped into small, easy chunks that can be revisited for maximum learning benefits. Research shows that a word needs to be seen up to 10 times before we really learn it, and researchers believe that staggered repetition is the best way to learn new vocabulary. Word lists help keep vocabulary terms in manageable chunks that a student can come back to as they gain mastery. I have posted some word lists HERE and will continue to add to this in the future.

3. Use the dictionary and thesaurus. Online dictionaries and thesauruses are helpful resources if used properly. They can jog your memory about synonyms that would actually be better words in the context of what you’re writing. A full dictionary definition can also educate you about antonyms, root words, and related words, which is another way to learn vocabulary.

4. Keep a vocabulary journal. Making a vocabulary journal is a great place to collect and interact with words you hear or see in your reading. Each page should be dedicated to a singular new word, including its definitions, synonyms, and antonyms. Review the journal regularly to reinforce your learning. 

5. Choosing appropriate vocabulary. It’s important to use words and expressions that fit the context so your meaning is clear. For example, different audiences for your writing will require different levels of formality: the vocabulary you use in an academic essay may not be effective for a blogpost targeting a popular audience. Consider the following questions to help you choose the most appropriate words for your audience and purpose:

a. What’s the exact meaning of the word? Words may be broadly similar in meaning but differ in important aspects of that meaning. Consider the difference between ‘the fragrance of flowers’  and ‘the odour of rotten eggs.’ Both words refer to the sense of smell, but fragrance has a positive core meaning while odour has a negative one. If you don’t know what a word exactly means, check it in a dictionary. b. Is the word attached to a feeling? Compare the two sentences: ‘The freeway snakes through the town’ and ‘The freeway meanders through the town’. In this example, snake indicates negative feelings about the freeway while meander doesn’t. c. What level of intensity does the word show? Many words with similar meanings describe different degrees of the same quality or action. For example, ‘comical’, ‘hilarious’ and ‘side-splitting’  show different degrees of funniness. Think about the intensity of what you want to convey when choosing words. d. Is the word formal or informal? Go for formal words and expressions in business communication and academic writing. In the following examples, the second expression in each pair is more formal than the first: (1) come up with / create (2) one after another / at regular intervals (3) huge / considerable (4) enough / sufficient e. Is the word polite? Words which describe negative qualities or sensitive issues too directly can be offensive. Good communicators consider the feelings of their audience. For example, when writing about childhood obesity, it’s more appropriate to use ‘children with weight problems’ or ‘children of an unhealthy weight’ than ‘fat children’. f. Is the word specific or general? Use words with specific meanings whenever possible to make your message clearer to your audience. For example, avoid overusing general verbs such as ‘be’, ‘do’, ‘have’ and ‘get’, especially in academic writing, as they don’t accurately convey specific ideas. It’s better to use a more specific verb or verb phrase to strengthen your message. Compare the impact of the verbs in these sentences: ‘To be successful, learners need to have high-level literacy skills.’ ‘To be successful, learners need to develop and demonstrate high-level literacy skills.’ g. What other words does the word often go with? Some words are frequently used together and therefore sound more natural in combination. This is called collocation. For example, we say ‘fast train’ not ‘quick train’, but ‘quick shower’ not ‘fast shower’. Similarly, it’s more natural to say ‘highly critical’ rather than ���deeply critical.’

6. Play word games. Classic games like Scrabble and Boggle can function as a fun way to expand your English vocabulary. Crossword puzzles can as well. If you really want to be efficient, follow up rounds of these word games with a little note-taking. Keep a list of the different words you learned while playing the game, and then study that list from time to time.

7. Use flashcards. A quick way to build a large vocabulary is to study a number of words via flashcards. In today’s digital age, a wide array of smartphone apps make flashcards convenient and easy to organize. Aiming for one new word a day is reasonable. You can always go for more, but it may not be reasonable to assimilate dozens of English words every single day.

8. Subscribe to “word of the day” feeds. Some web platforms will provide you with a word a day—either on a website, an app, or via email—to help you expand your vocabulary. You can add these words to running word lists.

9. Use mnemonics. A mnemonic device is a form of word association that helps you remember words’ definitions and proper uses. For instance think of the word obsequious which means “attempting to win favor from influential people by flattery.” Break down that word into components: “obse” is the beginning of “obsessed,” “qui” sounds like the French word for “yes” (oui), and “us” is like the word “us.” So you can think of that big word obsequious as “obsessed with saying yes to us”—which is kind of what it means!

10. Practice using new words in conversation. It’s possible to amass a huge vocabulary without actually knowing how to use words. This means you have to take it upon yourself to put your personal dictionary into use. If you come across an interesting word in your reading, make a point of using it in conversation. By experimenting in low-stakes situations, you can practice the art of word choice and, with a little bit of trial and error, hone in on the right word for a particular context. Furthermore, speaking to native – or non-native – speakers of English (or any language you are learning) will guarantee you the chance to learn new words. Anyone who has ever wondered how to develop their vocabulary will know that the most important thing is putting your vocabulary to use and hearing what people say in return. This is how language works, and before long you’ll be finding ways to work those new words into your everyday use of the language.

11. Watch movies and TV shows. This simple activity can expose you to new words and phrases. When watching TV or a movie, pay attention to the dialogue and note any unfamiliar words. When the TV show or movie is done, look up the meanings of the new words and try to use them in context.

12. Build a story. Learning vocabulary words outside of their context is difficult, so why not create context with some creative storytelling? This can be an individual writing activity or you can do this in a group. A sample group activity: Choose a word list and determine an order in which your students or friends will take their turn. Every person gets to choose one word from the word list. You begin by writing the first sentence of a story; each student then uses their chosen word in a sentence to build on the story. This gets learners comfortable using the words in sentences, and putting those individual vocabulary words into a broader context. This is also an activity you can do via text, chat window, or email, which makes it perfect for remote learning.

13. Draw it. Sometimes the best learning activities are ones that don’t feel like a learning activity. This can be an individual activity but can also be used in group settings. Here’s a way to turn vocabulary acquisition into a game: Ask each student to have a piece of paper and a pen or pencil ready, and tell them you are going to be playing a drawing game. Using the private chat feature of your remote learning software, choose one student and give them a word from your vocabulary list along with its definition, and tell them that they have 20 seconds to draw it. While the student is drawing it, make sure that you make their screen the main screen of the software. You can do a countdown to keep up the momentum, or play music while you wait. At the end of the time, the student shows their drawing to the other students: The first student to guess which vocabulary word has been drawn is the next student to draw. This activity is not only fun, but also benefits students who are visual or tactile learners.

14. Be aware of idioms. Idioms are commonly used word combinations or expressions. These have very specific meanings that are not obvious from the words they contain, e.g. ‘a piece of cake’, ‘get the hang of it’, ‘an Indian summer’, and ‘after a fashion’. Many dictionaries list and define idioms if you look up the component words. For example, try looking up ‘Indian’ or ‘summer’ to find ‘Indian summer’. Idioms are generally more appropriate for speaking and non-academic writing.

15. Practice, practice, practice. In many ways, vocabulary is like a muscle – it will get stronger the more you use it. The key to building a strong vocabulary is to use it regularly. Try using new words in your conversations, writing, and everyday life. The more that you use them, the more they will become a part of your everyday vocabulary.

Sources & other related articles: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

[kmigyubs]

[숭호, 동휸] — ₊˚⊹ ᰔ the newspaper boy, school president and I.

Pairing(s) : KIM DONGHYUN [Leehan] & PARK SUNGHO x [GN] reader

Genre : fluff, love triangle + a crap ton of drama.

Summary : Sungho is the boy who delivers the weekly newspapers to a small town in Busan. Donghyun was your typical school president, snarky and the top student (though it is barely mentioned). What did these two acquaintaned strangers have to common? They both liked [...]— they're in a secret competition where they both won (but not in the way they anticipated)..

Warning/contents : nothing much but a ton of mixed-feelings. there might be mistakes here + English is not my first language ^^ they/them used ! (+I might accidentally use the wrong prns and im sorry in advanced :)

a/n : ive wrote this about a month or two ago , and the plot isn't particularly the best. but i thought id post it for leehan day (love him sm). I wanna write smth for riwoo too but im tired TT maybe sometime soon

AUGUST 25, Wednesday

Birds were chirping, and [...] was awoken by the sunlight hitting their face through the windows of their room ...

They sat up in their bed, stretching their sore and numb body with a yawn, tired as fuck but still they have to get up anyway.

School didn't start until 8.30 AM, and it was only 7. They had all the time in the world before actually getting ready, thus they stood up from the bed and walked downstairs to where the kitchen was.

And there was food prepared for them, probably made by their parent as per usual before they had to go to work. Before that, they took a mug and began preparing a cup of coffee to start off the morning properly by being awoken by the aroma scent and caffeine from the coffee they were going make.

And there was a thud from the window- [...] smiled softly to himself, having quite the idea who was outside at the front of their house.

They placed the mug down on the kitchen counter, walking over to the front door and opening it, calling out to the person.

"Hey, Sungho !"

The news boy's eyes seemed to widen, even if they couldn't see it. He stopped pedalling his bicycle, looking back at the person that called out to him from the door of the house he just threw a newspaper to. He grinned sheepishly, waving at them.

"Hi, [...]-ah .."

[...] had known Sungho for quite some time now, ever since their parents decided to move here awhile back. Sungho would come by every Monday to drop by some newspapers, like he would do to every house.

But for whatever reason, that one time they invited him for a little bit inside their house because they made pasta, but accidentally made too much, so they insisted on Sungho to eat until he felt stuffed by the pasta. It was a bit akward at first, but they've gotten used to seeing eachother some mornings. That's kind of how they became friends.

"Would you like to come inside if you have time to spare ? I'm brewing some coffee." [...] asked him with a smile of their own inviting him in. Sungho politely declined with a head shake.

"No worries, I'm good ...."

"Oh ? Why's that ?" [...] asked him with a curious head tilt, acting as if he didn't have anything else to do.

"I have to head to school later, I just need to deliver these boys really quick." Sungho replied, gesturing to the newspaper on the wagon that was connected to his bicycle.

"Oh ...- huh, school ?" They asked puzzled. "I thought you do homeschool .."

"I do- I did." He said, pedalling back a bit so he could talk to the other easier.

"I just transferred to a school, you see. My mother has enough money to send me to school, now."

[...] cooed, nodding in understanding. "I see ... that's nice." They're happy that Sungho seemed to be thrilled of the idea of finally going to a public school, since he told them about how his family was struggling financially ... they wish they could do anything to help, but atleast he gets to go to a school now.

They heard a sound coming from their coffee machine, indicating that his coffee was done brewing.

"Well, hm. I guess you should go, I don't wanna hold you back." They said.

Sungho chuckled, waving his hand. "It's okay, I don't mind really.. but yeah, I should go. See you soon, [...]."

"You too, Sungie." They said with a wave, returning back inside the home and closing the door.

Sungho took a pause.. suddenly smiling giddily. Was that a nickname he heard ? That was cute.

He turned back forward, beginning to peddle again to deliver the rest of the newspapers to the upcoming houses.

———

[...] took their sweet old tome to get ready despot having an hour and a half to get ready ...

They got on their motorcycle, which was their father's. They tended to use it to get to school most of the time- when they didn't feel like taking the van they would usually go on.

So the moment they arrived, they were greeted by the school president. Stoic and super duper mature as per usual.

"Ehem, [...]-ah," he started, readjusting the from of his glasses over the bridge of his nose, folding his arms as he stared down at the other.

"You're late- again. It's the third time this week."

"I know, Donghyun ..."

[...] looked.up at him, puppy eyes. Arms clenched together. A big frown stuck on their face ...

".... But we're friends, Donghyun-ssi. Could you forgive me ?? Good people forgive ..."

"Blah blah blah, there you go again with your blackmailing." Donghyun snapped back at them. He sighed, and [...] tried their best to suppress the smile that crept onto his expression, knowing that they'd be forgiven. They stood up straight, giggling with a little 'thank you'.

Donghyun huffed in annoyance, annoyed with himself on how he'd let them get away with trouble again.

But, oh. The smile on their face was just so... irresistible. They looked way too cute to be a little troublemaker that got away with anything and everything.

Donghyun had an idea bulb turn on in his head- If [...] was going to blackmail him .. then so will he.

He then added, "But under one condition."

[...] wiped the cheeky smile on their face, now looking up at him with a soft hum of response.

They then groaned. "Eish ... fine. What is it that you need ?"

"Hm, see ... the principal assigned me to take care of a new student coming in today, but I have to assist some teachers and students for the programme on next Monday. Can you help the new student, perhaps ?"

[...] looked up at him, fortunately seeming a bit interested hearing about having to help a new student.

"Okay, kind of weird they'd join mid senior year. But sure .... What do I get out of this ?"

"My forgiveness and not punishing you for being late, obviously."

They rolled their eyes in response. "Okay, fine."

Donghyun looked at their expression, grinning from ear to ear. They were just so .... adorable. He just ruffled their hair up.

"Okay. Just wait at the principal office, he'll be there-"

He was suddenly distrupted by the sound of someone approaching, footsteps coming towards them.

"Is ... are you... Kim Donghyun?"

[...] was still facing Donghyun, not seeing the presence of whoever it was that was behind them. But something tells them that the voice was ... awfully familiar. Like they had just heard it ..... weird.

They turned around, surprised to see who was there - the newspaper boy was there, Sungho.

".... Sungho ?"

Sungho's gaze went to [y/n], his doe eyes widening in surprise seeing the person he just saw in the earlier morning.

"[...]... ? You go to this school ??"

Donghyun only stared at them while they conversated, pure confusion on his face.

"So ... you two know eachother or...?"

Sungho looked back at Donghyun, nodding in response to his confused question.

"That's right ... I see [...] when I deliver the newspapers in the morning, sometimes."

Donghyun nodded in return to Sungho, crossing his arms together once again (can you tell it's a habit of his by now ?)

"Okay, than it makes everything easier. [...] will help you around for today, since I'll be busy. Is that okay ?"

"Mhm .... that's okay. Thank you ...." Sungho mumbled to the other as he went away.

Sungho looked back to [...], a sheepish grin on his face. The one that he usually had whenever he was either akward, or excited. Not sure what it is this time.

"Well ... I guess I should show you around. Follow me, Sungie."

When they turned away to lead him to someplace else, Sungho couldn't help but smile giddily, just as he did earlier. Oh my .... [...] used that nickname again !!!! They were just so unbelievably cute to Sungho, he couldn't help it.

He snapped out of his thoughts when they called for him. Fumbling, he quickly followed them to get a tour of this place.

———

"Okay, just bring that over here and we should be all good ..."

The teacher instructed him, and Donghyun pushed the cheap foldable table over to the spot he was told. The teacher smiled in satisfaction.

"Thank you for helping the programme out, Kim. You're such a great student."

Donghyun sighed, smiling back at the teacher as he rested his hands on the table he had just pushed.

"It's fine, I'm free to help always. It's my job, is it not ?" The teacher chuckled. "I guess you're right ..."

The teacher was called over by some other students that were helping with the setup, thus she left Donghyun to go ahead and help them.

Donghyun was now left alone- well, with his friend Sanghyeok who was somebody of the student council team.

Sanghyeok was telling him about some crazy shit that he was reported by some students in the school, just yapping and whatnot.

He was barely listening to what the other was saying, just nodding along to whatever he was saying, until he heard him say,

"-Where's [...], by the way ?"

"Ah, [...]-ah. They're with Sungho."

"Sungho ...?"

"Yup. The new student."

Sanghyeok hummed. "I see ... if [...] wasn't doing so, they'd probably be following you around right now."

"Right .... he's like a little Adopt me pet."

"...???" Donghyun stared at him "You play that game too much hyeok."

Sanghyeok snorted. "I know, sorry."

Donghyun was staring ahead as Sanghyeok continued to speak to him about random things- he saw [...] with that new kid, Sungho.

[...] seemed to be thrilled by the new presence of Sungho in the school. They were chuckling contagiously as they chatted with Sungho, as they both walked past the hall Sanghyeok and Donghyun was in.

For whatever reason, Donghyun felt some sort of ... resent. Towards the way [y/n] seemed so comfortable with Sungho, to be exact.

[...] was his best friend, and they had other friends other than Donghyun himself of course and he was usually fine with it.

But for whatever reason, this time he felt some sort of uneasiness from the sight of the two together. Uncomfortable if you will.

Sungho was just a new student and Donghyun was fine with him. But knowing that he and [...] had some sort of friendship and connection before Sungho joined the school didn't sit right with him.

———

AUGUST 28, Saturday

One morning, Donghyun was making up a quick meal for himself before having to start of the day properly, a bowl of carbonara ramen. Just something simple nothing too special.

He heard the noise of something being thrown to the window of his house.

He raised a brow at the commotion. He turned and went to the said window, sliding the curtain aside so he could see what it was.

He seemed surprised to see the uhm- it was a newspaper, and it was sent by none other than the newspaper boy, Sungho.

Donghyun narrowed his eyes at the sight of the other. He went over to the front door and opened it to see him.

"Hey, you." Donghyun said, which made the other boy stop moving forward.

"Yes ?" Sungho asked, tilting his head.

"I .. you never delivered newspaper here before, huh ?"

"Oh, yeah I usually skip this street because there's already cable television here. But i thought you'd want one."

Donghyun seemed to be very puzzled, to say the least. It was oddly specific how Sungho started to deliver to him right after he transferred in .. maybe he just wanted to be acquaintances, or something.

Donghyun nodded, grabbing the newspaper that was laying right by the window.

"Right, thanks ..." Sungho nodded with a grin, pedalling away.

Donghyun brought that paper inside and tossed it onto the coffee table, knowing that he wouldn't read it at all.

He went back to get the bowl of ramen from the kitchen counter and eat it, but he couldn't help but overthink the whole encounter. It was strange, or maybe Donghyun was just more of an overthinking bitch.

..... It might be his overthinking again, but what if Sungho just came here to tease him and whatnot. Maybe he noticed that Donghyun was green with resent whenever Sungho was hanging out with [...].

But it's probably nothing. Sungho can't be that smart to notice how he felt.

Donghyun scrunched his face up in annoyance. Okay, he actually hates being an overthinking bitch.

He took the bowl of ramen to the dining table, and began nomming on his food as he tried not to think about it.

He fished his phone from the pocket of his pajamas to scroll on social media as he ate. He realised that he had received a couple messages from [y/n]. He opened the messages and read them.

'Hyunhyun, do you wanna hangout with me and Sungho? It's okay if you can't..'

...? 'It's ok if you can't?' Not 'want'? So they're willing to see me? They want me so bad.

Donghyun was clearly being delusional, but all he needs to do to keep his hopes high right?

He thought about it, before he wrote back a reply to them.

'Ok. When?'

'ill pick you up in 30 minutes!'

Donghyun gave their message a thumbs up. Donghyun practically got up almost immediately, abandoning his meal to go and get ready quickly, since he's aware that [...] was going to pick him up in half an hour- he didn't wanna be late.

———

Sungho was sitting in the passenger seat of [...]'s car whilst on the way to Donghyun's house, almost an hour later. He fiddled with his fingers awkwardly as they kept on talking to him about certain things. He just chuckled, and nodded if he needed to, to anything that [...] said.

[...] eventually looked over to Sungho once they reached a red light, cutting himself off when he realised how uncomfortable Sungho seemed to be.

Their expression softened, looking back ahead when the light turned green. "Hm ... what's up with you ?"

Sungho sighed, shaking his head. "It's nothing, it's ... kind of dumb."

"Oh .. just tell me, I won't judge."

Sungho tried go avoid looking at [...], instead looking at the view outside of the window.

"... I don't think Donghyun likes me that much .."

[...]'s expression was understanding, but they felt a bit curious.

"Oh ? How come ? I thought you told me that you saw him this morning."

"Yes, I did .. but he didn't seem to be liking me that much, you know ?"

[...] hummed in response as they listened to him. "Well, he takes a bit of time to get used to someone new. It's not you, it's just Donghyun ...."

Sungho nodded to what they said, but he still thought about how Donghyun had acted towards him in his first few days of school the week before. He seemed cold. Like he didn't like seeing Sungho.

He didn't know why he felt like he needed Donghyun's approval so badly- maybe because he's [...]'s friend ? Yes, that's right .... He wanted to be good with everyone [...] knows.

"I guess so ..."

They reached Donghyun's home eventually. [...] dropped him a message to let him know that they're here, and then comes Donghyun towards the car.

"Hello hyunhyun." [...] smiled at the rear view mirror, looking at Donghyun as he entered and settled in the backseat.

"Hey, [...]." Donghyun replied ... he looked to Sungho, and just said a simple 'hi'.

Sungho nodded at him to let him know he's acknowledging him, but Sungho still felt the sense of uneasiness in himself.

[...] began driving again, driving towards the mall. Donghyun was playing on his phone, while Sungho continued to stare out the window to avoid both of their gazes.

The trip seemed to be what Donghyun expected. [...] going to a shit ton of stores in the mall and buying almost anything relatively cute that they saw in the stores. And of course them making Donghyun carry out all of the bags from their shopping.

What Donghyun noticed though was that [...] was giving Sungho more of their attention, dragging them around the stores they wanted to go to while Leehan only followed them from behind.

....The feeling of resent he envy returned within him.

When they were on the way to a toy store, he involuntarily let out a huff of annoyance- loud enough for both [...] and Sungho to hear.

They turned around to look at Donghyun and began walking backwards, looking at him with a brow raised.

"Hah ? You okay ?"

They asked. Donghyun sighed, nodding to them. With a forced fakeass smile.

"I'm good. I accidentally hit my foot against a bench." He said, and that clearly didn't happen.

But it was believable enough for [...]. They nodded, smiling in satisfaction and turning back forward to continue their journey to the store.

But Sungho .. he had a tiny feeling that his annoyance was from him ? Sungho was just good at detecting how people felt, and thus that's exactly why he kept on thinking that Donghyun disliked him. He just didn't know why Donghyun did so.

They were there shortly after. [...] was rummaging and looking at the items in the toy store, looking for a set of furniture for their Calico Critters dollhouse ...

Sungho and Donghyun were waiting for [...] outside though, the akward silence between them was deafening for Sungho. He wanted to say something to Donghyun, but he already knew he didn't like him as it is.

He tried to muster up the courage to speak to the other, but not until he spoke first,

"So ... you met [...] through your job, right ?" Donghyun asked. Sungho was a bit puzzled as to why he was trying to conversate with him about how they met eachother, but he only nodded in response.

Donghyun's hand was clenched to a fist, as he tried to fight off the feeling within him. It felt so fucking stupid to resent the guy beside him just because of his God damn friend- he doesn't know why he's so protective of [...].

"... Do you like them ? [...]-ah, I mean."

Donghyun froze when Sungho asked him that question. It was an oddly specific question ... And Donghyun wasn't sure of the answer himself.

"... I guess I do. Why do you ask ?"

Sungho immediately stiffened up at the response to his question. He expected an explanation like, "I don't really feel comfortable with [...] hanging out with you because he's my best friend" or something. But he was probably thinking wrong. Maybe Donghyun liked them as a friend.

"So.. like, you like them as a friend ?"

".... No."

Sungho felt like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. No way. That Kim Donghyun, a.k.a [...]'s best friend, liked him like that ?

.... He did too. This was bad.

"I never told that to anyone ... I just feel a bit confused on what I feel exactly. But I do know that I like them."

Sungho gulped. He shifted his weight from his leg to the other, feeling another sense of uneasiness.

But it wasn't because of what he thought Donghyun's dislike towards him ... He felt uneasy knowing that someone else liked the [...].

"... You like them too, don't you ?" He heard Donghyun ask so suddenly. He felt his heart pumping in adrenaline, but feeling obligated to answer it ... Truthfully.

"Ever since I first saw him when I was delivering once, like almost a year ago .."

Donghyun scoffed. He knew it.

Ever since Sungho transferred to the school he felt suspicious from the way he acted around [y/n]. And it didn't help at all after they told Donghyun about the friendship they had before he came to the school- it felt sickening.

Despite the fact he had said he was "unsure" of his feelings for [...], this was most definitely not fucking okay. He felt childish for mentally losing his temper and the way he had his arms crossed with scrunched brows.

Donghyun put the bags down by Sungho's legs. He turned and began walking away.

Sungho only stared at him, unsure of what to do.

"... Where are y-"

"Tell [...] that something came up. I want to leave."

———

AUGUST 30, Monday

Well, Donghyun had helped set up an for a programme for this Monday about the week before, remember ? The programme was basically just an early graduation event, it was about 3 months before they'd graduate senior year. Sanghyeok and Donghyun was helping out around the programme, but most of it was just Donghyun slacking off while he was stuck with his own thoughts.

Sanghyeok came to Donghyun's side once he finished with the duties he was assigned, looking over at the boy deep in thought with arms crossed.

"Wow, you really helped a lot. Thank you."

Donghyun looked up at him with a glare, sighing as he rested his head in his hand.

"Sorry. Truly."

Seeing the way he was acting, Sanghyeok began to feel concern for him. He took the seat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"What's up ? You can tell me."

"Well, it's just that .." Donghyun started, playing with the button of his uniform's sleeve.

"I like [...] ...."

"I know that—"

"But Sungho likes him too."

Sanghyeok murmured and inaudible 'oh!' once he heard what Donghyun said. They sat in a mildly akward silence as Sanghyeok thought of what he was supposed to say— I mean, what was he supposed to say to someone who was stressed over a crush ???

"... Uhm ! That's tough. But [...] is a charming one,, I'm not surprised ?"

Donghyun sent a glare to Sanghyeok's way, brows furrowed. "You're not helping."

Sanghyeok only smiled an akward one.

"Oh shit— I think a teacher's calling for me."

"?? There's no teachers here.."

But Sanghyeok had already left Donghyun alone, again.

Donghyun huffed as he leaned his back against the seat, slumping down the said seat.

"Hello.. ? Hyunhyun–ssi."

He heard someone call him while he was in a daze.

Looking up, he met with the eyes of [...].

"Oh. Hi [...]. What's up ...?" Donghyun asked them, as if he himself wasn't in emotional distress at the corner of the hall.

"Well, first of all. Sanghyeok told me to check on you because you seemed under the weather." They said, taking the seat that Sanghyeok was sitting at earlier. So Sanghyeok told them ... Oh he was so done.

"I'm fine. I've just been having .... issues."

"Issues ? Of what sort ?"

"I.. it's nothing, [...]-ie." Donghyun told them— but [...] couldn't help but let out a slight chuckle when he tried to explain. Donghyun looked at them, weirded out.

"Uhm, what's funny ?"

"'[...]-ie', you call me that whenever you're feeling vulnerable. Just tell me."

Donghyun tried his best to not flip out and [...]'s comment. Well ... They've been friends for a while, did Donghyun expect them to not know him at all or what ?

Donghyun sighed, burying his face in his hands. "... Fine. Don't tell a single soul, got it ? Well, maybe Sanghyeok is fine because that mofherfucker already knows."

[...] nodded with another chuckle, waiting him to continue on ... whatever he was gonna say and had been bothering him.

"... I don't like Sungho."

[...] almost choked on their own spit. Okay ... So Sungho wasn't wrong ! Donghyun really didn't like him. But the reason as to why Donghyun didn't like the latter was what [...]'s confused about.

"So ... Why don't you ? Sungho's a nice guy, trust me."

"I don't trust him! He's going to steal you away ...."

Evidently, [...] was clearly holding back snickers when they listened to Donghyun yap about disliking Sungho. 'Steal him away my ass'..

"Donghyun,, don't be ridiculous! Sungho will never replace my best friend, you know ? Besides, I can have more then one best friend can't I ?"

'Best friend.. oh, they don't know what I mean.'

"Uh, right. You're right, my bad." Donghyun replied back, hoping that [...] wouldn't notice the awkwardness that was washing over him.

"So ... are you gonna promise me that you'll be friends with Sungho ?"

"What—??" Donghyun asked them confused. Well, he knew he was gonna to be friends with him one way or another (did he?), but he didn't expect [...] to ask him to.

"Please ? I want all of us to be friends, not one sided hatred."

Is that what [...] saw it as ? I mean, sure, Donghyun was being a bitch for no absolute reason he knew that. But thinking about it now, he felt pretty guilty for being that way towards Sungho. He was generally a cold person, but he was extra, extra with Sungho.

"I don't hate him, I swear. I may dislike him but not to that extent."

[...] looked at him skeptical, before letting out a sarcastic 'ahhh'.

"Yes yes, I believe you .. then why are you not getting along with him, huh ?"

"What ? I— I am." Donghyun said defensively.

"Okay, then. Do you want to come over to my place to hang out with me and Sungho ?"

Donghyun sighed in reluctance, nodding in acceptance. "Sure, 'kay ..."

———

SEPTEMBER 1, Wednesday

As [...] said, now both Sungho and Donghyun were over at their place after school. And surely, the tension between them was heavy.

[...] was yapping about random shit, as per usual. Donghyun and Sungho both stayed silent as they kind of listened to them.

Sungho didn't take his eyes off the food that [...] had made while eating it, and Donghyun was sending looks his way as he himself ate.

Okay— he was being a bitch again. He told [...] he wouldn't ... he only realised so when they nudged his foot, giving him a look of their own for him to loosen up.

Donghyun let out a huff, looking back to the nervous boy.

"So ... [...] told me that you were into playing video games."

Sungho's face showed a look of surprise, probably because one— Donghyun was talking to him, two— [...] talked about him to their friends ? That's flattering.

"Yeah .. I do." Replied Sungho, almost feeling cringe at the shyness and awkwardness of his tone.

"Well, I bought my Nintendo and some games from home. I can connect it to the TV, and we can play."

Sungho's eyes lit up from the sudden and surprising invitation.

"Me ?"

"No, I'm talking to the fly above your head." Donghyun rolled his eyes. Sungho mentally palmed his forehead. He nodded in response to his question.

"If you don't mind .."

"I wouldn't be asking if I did!"

Thus, all three of them were in the comfort of [...]'s living room, [...] sitting comfortably on the sofa with a blanket over them while Donghyun and Sungho were sitting on the floor with pilliws and the blanket of their own.

They were just playing Animal Crossing, starting an island together and such.

Donghyun took Sungho for the super shy type, but while playing with him Sungho bickered with him a lot. Donghyun was surprised on how immature this dude could be aswell, getting excited when he captures an insect in the game and decorating their house.

Even during then, they chatted while playing the game, and they had multiple things in common, apparently.

"Sungho, why did fuck did you sell my statue ??"

"I needed bells. The statue was ugly as fuck anyways."

"Excuse me !?"

[...] was trying so hard not to laugh, but he bursted into little chuckles.

He got onto the floor next Donghyun, poking his side. "I told you you'd get along." They whispered.

Donghyun shoved their hand away, grunting in annoyance.

"Yes, you were right .... sorry." He whispered back.

———

SEPTEMBER 6, Monday

"[...]-ssi !!"

[...] heard someone call for them while they were walking through the hallway.

They turned back, to be greeted with a Sanghyeok running towards them.

"Uh— hi ?"

Sanghyeok and then weren't exactly close, not like he was with Donghyun anyway. They were more like acquaintances in a way.

Sanghyeok grinned at them, as if he was gonna like, about to do something devious— or something.

"I have a secret to tell you," he said, "but you can't tell anyone. Not even Donghyun or Sungho."

[...] raised a brow at him, skeptical. But they gave him the green light anyway, since he was curious.

"Okay. Go on."

Sanghyeok dragged him to the emptier part of the hall, which was by the stairs which anyone barely used.

"Okay, sooo ..." Sanghyeok leaned in slightly to whisper to their ear, his expression turning serious.

"Donghyun told me that ... Sungho likes you."

[...] narrowed his eyes. They thought he was like playing or shit, but Sanghyeok's face remained serious.

But there was more. "Donghyun likes you too. That's why he was so bitchy with Sungho at first."

...

[...] had to stop themself from having their jaw drop.

Donghyun and Sungho, their best friends .... they both liked him !?

It was flattering and all for sure, but— oh, how do they say this ...

"Hm, that's ... interesting, Sanghyeok. Uhm ... thank you ?"

[...] obviously didn't know how to react to that information, it was just so out of the blue ....

Besides, they've never seen signs from any of then. Unless, he was just too oblivious to it. They tried to recall it, but they really didn't remember shit.

Donghyun and Sungho were walking together in the halls, on the way to their lockers which were near eachother.

That was, until Donghyun took notice of Sanghyeok dragging to the staircase at the end of the hall.

Donghyun stopped Sungho's talking by tugging on his arm, pointing to the direction of [...] and Sanghyeok at the end of the hall.

Sungho squinted his eyes. He readjusted the glasses he was wearing and stared ahead.

"I ... who is [...]-ah with ?" Sungho asked out of curiosity.

"That's my friend from the counselling team, Lee Sanghyeok."

Sungho hummed in acknowledgement, looking at the both of them in the distance still.

"What are they doing."

Donghyun shrugged his shoulder. "I don't know ...

Ah, [...]'s coming— act natural."

And so they did, opening their lockers and fetching their books and stuff as if they didn't witness anything.

[...] came to them, though— they walked a bit slowly, feeling a tad bit lost and confused. Thoughts running through their mind.

When [...] saw Donghyun and Sungho, they smiled, but it seemed a bit weary. Just a bit off.

Donghyun froze in his shoes. He had a feeling what this was all about ... oh, he was 100% gonna commit battery on Sanghyeok.

Though, Sungho didn't see the look of stress that took over Donghyun's face. He tilted his head, asking,

"What did.. Sanghyuk tell you ?"

"Sanghyeok."

"Yeah, whatever, what did he tell you, [...] ?"

[...] dropped his shoulders, letting out a sigh. They folded their arms together, and went straight to the freaking point.

"Sanghyeok told me that the both of you like me."

Andddd, that's what Donghyun was expecting to hear, he turned away, banging his head against the locker in distress. It's just a him thing.

Sungho's mouth agape upon hearing what they said. A faint pink adorned Sungho's cheek, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well .... this is akward ?" Sungho grinned, nervous as hell.

Donghyun glanced back to [...] during his emotional distress, a huff escaping him. From the annoyance of being exposed, but also feeling ... well shit I don't know.

"[...], we can explain ..."

[...] knitted their brows together, but they softened up upon noticing the looks that washed both of Donghyun and Sungho's expression.

They dropped their arms to the side. "I would like an explanation, please."

They were seated at the very corner table of the cafeteria— or as they liked to call it as of recently, "the meeting corner". [...] thought it was incredibly immature but who are they to talk.

[...] looked over at Donghyun, waiting for him to begin.

"So ... basically, it's a bit complicated." He started, "[...] ... when we were hanging out at the mall, I ditched ya'll because I was ... jealous. Sungho was getting more attention when he arrived, so I just stormed off. It was childish, I know. I'm a kitten when it comes to [...]'s attention."

"Kitten ..?" Sungho raised a brow.

[...] couldn't help but snicker despite the attempt of seriousness of the conversation. They cleared their throat, wanting for him to continue.

"That was also when I figured that Sungho liked you too. Now that we're in this discussion ... it's a bit dramatic for me to act this way."

Donghyun admitted, his cheeks flushing as he looked away.

[...] sighed, resting his cheeks on his hand as he leaned towards them from the opposite side of the table.

"Yeah ... I've been thinking about it ever since Sanghyeok told me so, even though it was 7 minutes ago ... it's a bit tough for me to say."

[...] paused for a second, clicking his tongue as for the dramatic sequence of the conversation.

"It's flattering ... but I don't like you two like that."

Sungho felt like slumping away, being eaten by the ground whole out of embarrassment. He only felt so because it was a bit pathetic to think that [...] would like him ... of course not. They were much much cooler than him.

But he couldn't help but feel the surge of disappointment in his chest, but he had to accept it.

It was just a random crush that he suddenly developed after all, it wasn't like he expected for anything to happen further than that (?).

Donghyun, he felt pretty more than disappointed.

He was pull on frowning and pouting, crossing his arms as he turned his head away from [...].

"I didn't need your approval anyway, dickhead."

[...] and Sungho both giggled at the ridiculousness of Donghyun. He was acting so damn immature for someone who just got rejected. Well, at least he was fine, they hoped (?)!

Sungho lost the feeling of tension. Even if he got rejected ... atleast he was on good terms. He would've been devastated if [y/n] had left them right then and there.

"You don't hate us, [...]-ah ...?"

They chuckled, shaking his head.

"No, it's really okay. You can't control you feelings sometimes, and it's fine ... I just don't, reciprocate it I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry either ... you just said we couldn't control our feelings, you can't either so it's not your fault you don't feel for any of us." Donghyun stated matter of factly, finally finished with his childlike tantrum and leaned his arms on the table.

"By the way, enough chatting. We have to study for finals ...."

"Oh, but I'm clueless on what to study." Sungho frowned.

"It's alright. We'll help you out. Let's get to the library yeah." Donghyun got up from the table, and the two others followed suit.

"[...]-ah, I know this is weird..." Sungho murmured as they all entered the library and sat at a table.

"But .. can we all be friends, still?"

[...] looked at him with narrowed eyes, confusion apparent.

"I never said I wanted to end this, Sungho."

"Phew." Sungho let out a breath he didn't know that he was holding. Donghyun only rolled his eyes at his worry, arms folded.

Sungho looked at the both of them with his small, and subtle smile.

"Then, can we all be friends for a long time?"

[...] had to hold back a giggle, thinking about how adorable that suggestion was.

"Let's be together for... the next four-hundred and nighty-nine years, deal?" Donghyun piped in. Sungho nodded in agreement, a chuckle escaping him.

"So much happened in a month's span." Sungho said. "Two weeks." Donghyun corrected him.

[...] could only smile in satisfaction as they watched Sungho and Donghyun converse with one-another. It was nice knowing that they were finally getting along ...

— But, [...] didn't hear exactly what they were talking about.

"Don't think I'm still nod holding a grudge against you for liking [...]," Donghyun said to Sungho, a hushed tone as to not let [...] hear.

Sungho scrunched his brows. "Don't care ah... Anyone would pick me over your attitude anyday, Donghyun."

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

RTA, In addition to your excellent response to anon asking about WK’s histories, I’d like to add some more histories which were all eventually shut down. 

Firstly, you have to remember that UK didn’t have privacy laws until 2014. Once that law came into effect, so many articles, pictures, blogs were pulled from the internet. And weirdly, some articles remain, but are/ were edited to remove the details that could invite a lawsuit. 

Sidenote: one of my favourite blogs, princess Diana’s palace was so meticulous about information gathering on Diana that it put any Diana biographer to shame, but it shut down in early 2015. The youtube channel is still up, and you can find a video clip of Lady C being abused by Sally Jessy Rapeal’s audience in late 1991 for her book, Diana the real story, disclosing Diana’s problems and problem marriage. Andrew Morton comes on and calls her a liar…..then 6mths later publishes his own ghostwriter Diana biography: DianaHer story!!!

But I digress,

…….pre-2014, and especially pre-2011 before Phonne hacking scandal broke, it was easy for newspapers to print whatever about celebrities.

Ditto phone hacking, dustbin diving, tips from service workers - TMZ made it’s bones because they bribed service workers/ staff at restaurants/ hotels/ hospitals/ rehab/ wait staff/ bouncers etc 

As per your comment about people ratting out celebs…..I used to live near KP when Kate first married. Every time she went shopping on Ken high street, word would ran through street like bush fire which would get to you if you happened to be shopping as well. 

During the dating years, the young royals and their circle were not discreet at all. They hang out all in Chelsea, mostly King’s Road and ‘the beach’ portion of the Fulham Road as well as pubs all along there. As an example, soon after William broke up with Kate in 2007, he did go clubbing and tell entire club that he was free as he danced on top of a bar - multiple witnesses including yours truly. 

One current royal reporter got her start royal reporting by embedding herself with the royals’ circle especially Harry then would go fishing for extra tidbits on royal forums which is how she dug up 'waity Katie’ because one notorious forum had branded her with it and she took it mainstream. 

During the dating years, there were many blogs reporting about the young royals, but the most notorious early one wasn’t an royal one. St Andrews had a student blog that allowed students to post tidbits about school life, and unfortunately students posted stuff about William and his dating life. 

The anecdote about Carly the determinedly virgin girlfriend was posted on there because William was either indiscreet or someone made it up and posted it. How they broke up, the public nature of it, and the intersection with Kate came from that blog. 

Carly never sold that story and it’s sad that anon thinks she did. If that blog was posting the truth about William, then it’s unsurprising that he wasn’t getting on with his first year at St Andrews. The blog was eventually shut down because it was posting information about him which was picked up and spread to other blogs. This would have been early 2005. I know about that blog because posts were copied from it and posted to other blogs that came much later. 

Let’s also not forget that Harold was leaking to reporters he met in pubs. After he revealed his chronic leaking, I thought about articles written in the WK dating years that were attributed to 'sources close to Harry’ or 'friends of Harry’ eg articles criticising Kate claiming Chelsy was superior to Kate, that Kate was a limpet, that Kate was taking advantage of her royal status to grab stuff eg getting Audi to sell her a car at royal discount or to pull,’ don’t you know who I am’ card to get into events. One such article even criticised her presence in a royal box claiming she’d simply barged her way in using that card. 

Then there was the Middleton pap on speed dial. This guy started out as friendly part of the pap pack that the Middletons tolerated, but soon he was the only one who had exclusive Middleton content and was such a trusted source that msm looked to him to guide them as far as info on the Middletons especially when he revealed that he’d been told where to find William and Kate after Uncle Gary had been caught in a tabloid scandal and the pap ended up capturing the only image (video & still) of WK French kissing. The complicated relationship was revealed in a Kate vs pap lawsuit from 2009 which the pap lost, but which revealed a very complicated relationship. Most of the reporting on the lawsuit has disappeared and all you find is this one article in the Guardian newspaper that simply states that pap lost the case and had to pay Kate damages. 

https://www.theguardian.com/media/greenslade/2010/mar/11/privacy-news-agencies

the later Jecca + William rumours came from him. 

Then there was Jessica Hay as mentioned by RTA who told media outlets everything she knew about Kate. Ditto the sex kittens lady who was a Kate friend from Marlborough and also during the dating years - it was her charity rowing boat that Kate joined during 2007 break up, but man, did this girl talk to the media too. She still dines out on being Kate’s friend though I wager that the friendship, such as it was, cooled after Kate left the rowing crew in 2007 after she reunited with Willuam. 

Then you throw in the people naively giving sympathetic interviews about Kate or William and putting out far too much information about her eg Kate’s jigsaw boss - an edited version of 2012 interview she gave is still floating on the internet

https://www.standard.co.uk/showbiz/kates-not-precious-she-mucked-in-at-jigsaw-6922185.html

The Captain of the yacht that Kate crewed on in her gap year before St Andrews told an anecdote about Kate’s time working for him which became the opening 2-3 paragraph of this article written during her engagement period

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1377487/Kate-Middletons-character-shaped-generations-social-climbing-matriarchs.html

Even Uncle Gary was very loose-lipped about Kate and William. 

In short, Robert Jobson is not using new information, but taking old articles, possibly going into National archives or just good old British Library to look at the old stuff to dig up stuff previously printed.

As he has been around for decades, I’d wager he knows everything RTA and I have written here because he lived it and when before that 2014 EU law came into effect, he copied as much information for his files as he could. 

Personally, I was on royal forums from around 2005-ish mainly for Diana content and that eventually led to WK content. 

And now for the horrible part……the blog is a cesspool that needs to die, but early Celebitchy still has many early articles copied into the blog. I think they started covering Kate and William in 2008 or early 2009. Those early post were not cesspool though they are presented in a snarky tone as per the space they were trying to carve out for themselves as far as celeb watching. It took a dark turn when they hired Kaiser and gave her full control of the blog. She curated it into the hatefilled space it eventually became. Turning point was 2016 when a combo of Hillary vs Trump as well as Markle, Brangelina divorce were the big topics of discussion that year. She took a position on these topics and banned all dissent. She encouraged deranged takes on all of it such that even the moderates who may have agreed with her were driven out. 

If you can bare to dip into that poison, you’ll find old articles on Kate and William from 2008 onwards. 

***************

Anon, if you do dive into Celebitchy, I recommend a salt circle, a cleansing ritual before and after, and saging your computer/mobile device. Maybe do a prayer candle too. You can’t be too cautious when it comes to Kaiser.

[foolishlovers]

hii could i request some of your favoruite human au fics? nothing specific :))

ahhh always!! i have so many!! 💜

Postcards From Paris by ghostrat (12k, G) Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he's left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.'s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time. The question is: How will A.Z.F. react when Crowley finally gets his return address and writes back? --- It was different, he knew, to accidentally read someone else’s postcard versus intentionally perusing one in place of good newspaper over coffee. Crowley decided he was allowed that indecency, to balance out the good deed of safeguarding the mail in the first place. He kicked his feet up onto his desk, scooped up the takeaway coffee that was brought around by their newest intern, and settled in to read some of the most densely crowded handwriting he’d ever laid eyes on.

London, Libraries & Love by wolftea (13k, E, WIP) Smiling warmly at the huddles of students, Aziraphale made his way over to Crowley, who was leaning against his desk. Crowley was dressed in layers of all black (as per usual), his red hair was tied back in a loose ponytail (not as usual, he often wore it down) and he was twirling Aziraphale’s fountain pen between his fingers. “Mister Fell.” Crowley drawled, but the warmth in his amber eyes and the upward curve of his mouth betrayed any attempt at appearing nonchalant. Aziraphale found himself grinning. How on Earth had he ever disliked this man? “Crowley.” He said, eyes crinkling as he plucked the pen out of Crowley’s hands and put it back by his notebook.

New Approaches by FeralTuxedo (19k, M) Aziraphale Fell, Professor of Creative Writing at Tadfield University, welcomes the attendees of the First Conference on New Approaches to Genre Fiction. Among them is keynote speaker and best-selling thriller author Anthony J. Crowley. Aziraphale has not seen him for twenty-five years. Sometimes, he can still feel the ghost of their parting kiss on his lips. Or: Exes reunite at academic conference. A Human University Professor/Author AU.

muddle through somehow by curtaincall (27k, T) Aziraphale Fell runs a successful food blog, Celestial Comestibles, where he shares mouthwatering recipes and heartwarming stories about his happy domestic life in a cottage with his husband and son. As promotion for his upcoming cookbook, his publishers run a contest: one lucky winner will get to spend Christmas with Aziraphale and his family. What the publishers don't know is that the real Aziraphale Fell is a single city-dweller. And if he wants to keep up his happily married persona, he'll have to acquire a cottage, husband, and son before Christmas. As it happens, his friend and neighbor Anthony Crowley has his nephew staying with him for the holidays. One fake marriage proposal later, and everything seems tickety-boo--as long as Aziraphale can keep from developing inconveniently real feelings for his pretend husband…

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (41k, M) Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers. Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye. A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.

Fledging by FeralTuxedo (53k, M) Cool Dad was at the school gate again. Clambering out of his ridiculous sports car like a great big spider, all black denim and designer sunglasses. What a prat. He made his way towards the entrance, followed by his equally lanky son. All the mums' eyes were on him. Which was fine. At least they weren't staring at Aziraphale for a change. Cool Dad high-fived his son goodbye, because of course he did, then sauntered back to his car. Making it look so bloody easy. Aziraphale Fell is much too young to be looking after eleven-year old Pepper. He barely has his life together as it is, with his minimum-wage job and a half-baked dream of trading rare books for a living. And as if adopting a recently bereaved pre-teen isn’t enough, there are some rather more adult problems to navigate: playground politics, the shadows of his own childhood, and the growing question of how Crowley, the only other dad at the school gate, feels about him. A human AU/kid fic.

Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (70k, E) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.

South Downs by summerofspock (76k, E) Blackballed from the industry ten years ago, Anthony Crowley jumps at the chance to star in a new Regency romance miniseries with well-known gay actor Aziraphale Fell in the hopes that it will help him restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley has played all sorts of characters and for the life of him, he can't figure out why he's struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison (151k, E) Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbours. And…it does not go at all well, until it does. A human AU in which Aziraphale is a bookseller, Crowley is a drummer, and they are both petty disasters in the worst/best way. +++ “So what’s your deal?” “My-my-my deal?” Aziraphale stammered. “I’m a bookseller, is my deal.” “Oh,” Crowley replied, sounding as uninterested as it was possible to sound. “It’s just, I couldn’t help overhearing, and --” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “You really are an accomplished musician. But I thought -- for after 11PM -- perhaps we could reach some arrangement?” “Arrangement?” Aziraphale felt his his smile turning forced. “Such as, perhaps, playing the drums before eleven? Instead of after?” Crowley stared blankly at him. In fact he stared for so long that Aziraphale briefly wondered if he'd lapsed into ancient Greek again, which he was known to do in bad dreams or during panic attacks.

[lazydaisyhuntlow]

TOH Meta: Hexside analysis (size, schedule, clubs, staff roster)

We spend a lot of time at Hexside School of Magic and Demonics throughout the course of the series, but some things are never really explained. For my own reference, I'm compiling as much canon information here as I can about Hexside and the people who work there (plus a couple headcanons).

1. How many students attend Hexside?

In the show, most track-specific class sizes range from 3-4 students. For example, Willow's Abominations 101 class from season one has 4 students, with seating space for 12 max.

However, I have reason to believe that this is not all the Abominations students! There are probably other classes for advanced students that meet later in the day (more on that in the Scheduling section below).

Let's say there's a (generous) average of 8-12 students per track. Multiply that by 9 tracks and we get 72-108 students, plus 8 in the baby class, for a total of about 80-116 students total.

The all-school assembly in Labyrinth Runners seems about that size.

Yep, around 100 students. Hexside is quite small! I wonder if St. Epiderm and Glandus are similarly sized?

2. What is the schedule like?

Upon Luz' arrival, Bump gives her a schedule for the day with 6 different potions classes. I know this is meant to be a joke but I'm accepting that Hexside has a 6-block schedule where classes gradually increase in difficulty (hopefully with a lunch break somewhere!!) and that electives (club meetings, free periods, or any non-track-specific class like history/math/PE) are less frequent.

Gus mentions 'moving up a few grades', but since it's essentially a tiny K-12 school and the options at Luz' entrance exam are A) the baby class or B) the not-baby class... I think it's more likely the students are separated by level/ability, not strictly by age.

My headcanon is that older students take their electives in the early morning (periods 1-2) during the beginner-level classes. All students of a track come together in the mid-level classes (periods 3-4), maybe doing group projects or studying independently. In the afternoon (periods 5-6), they switch: track professors do advanced classes with the older students, while the younger ones go to their electives. But even if this is not the case, with such small classes, it would be easy to differentiate to multiple levels and give each student lots of one-on-one attention.

3. What clubs are there?

From the club fair in Any Sport in a Storm, we know that Hexside has a lot of student clubs, including:

Grudgby, Flyer Derby, The Good Witch Azura book club, Swimming, Hexas Hold'em, Screech and Debate, Fear Book, Drama, Gardening, Arts & Witchcrafts, Skullpting, Casket Weaving, Brews n' Stews, Inner Demons, Scrying Committee, and Psychics.

There is a school newspaper called the Hexside Free Press. Gus is a member.

Gus is also the president of the Human Appreciation Society (not to be confused with the roleplaying Human Fantasy Club down the hall).

4. Who are the teachers?

Principal Hieronymus Bump

Attended Hexside as an abominations student (and played flyer derby!), joined the abominations coven, and came back to work as a teacher. Firm, fair, open-minded, will defend his students from threats. Retires during the timeskip.

Professor Hermonculus - Abominations Track

Critical, strict, petty. Punishes his students with extra homework. Holds a grudge against Willow for changing to the plant track. Sends Amity to the principal's office. Plays flyer derby.

His palisman is an abomination-goo cat-bat thing. Also, he appears to have recruited a literal kindergartener to play this deadly contact sport? Nice.

Unnamed purple triclops demon - Illusions Track

Stylish, caring, protective of her students -- in Labyrinth Runners her priority was to get Gus away from the Coven Scouts, and she was willing to trade Hunter back to Belos to accomplish that goal (though she probably didn't know or care what would happen to him). Seems to do a lot of assessments; encourages creativity and humor in her students. She becomes the new principal after Bump's retirement. My headcanon name: Professor Houdine

Unnamed spider demon - kindergarten/baby class

Super cute and appears to be a genuinely good teacher! Field trips, story time, plushies all over the classroom. I hope she was okay after the day of unity because the kindergarteners descended into madness without her. My headcanon name: Cera Fangston

Unnamed parrot (?) demon - Potions Track

Put a pun ("Let's mix it up!") and little doodles of potions flasks on her board, which I appreciate. Spends a lot of time with Boscha and appears to do nothing about her bullying other students, which I do not appreciate. My headcanon name: Professor Sinder

Unnamed bicorn - Oracle Track

Serious, mysterious, detail-oriented. Cool aesthetic, but... let's be honest. That is WAY too many chalkboards. I can see why she has to keep her crystal balls in the hallway! Also, the oracle track's whole thing is ghosts, but I guess she ignored the decades-old ghost infestation in the girls' changing room and left it for other people to clean up?

Yeah. So she's either not very powerful or not very considerate of her colleagues. Maybe she's the one who keeps eating all the donuts in the staff room. My headcanon name: Professor Claire Lydgate

Unnamed snake (?) demon - History, math (?)

He doesn't like chatting in his classroom, but he LOVES grudgby! He teaches History and something about the Heximal System, so that's possibly a lower-level math class? His classes appear to be larger and include students from many different tracks.

My headcanon name: Professor Ladon

Unnamed gray demon - detention track (temporary)

Sarcastic, uses his scroll a lot, punishes students with cleaning the classroom, can sleep through anything. Was only supposed to be in charge of detention track temporarily while the detention pit was being repaired, but he stuck around in the background til the end of season 2 so I guess they found something for him to do. Maybe he's a substitute? Also a contender for the donut thief. My headcanon name: Mr. Eyevan Urgus

Unnamed blue demon with wig - Bard Track (?)

This guy appears in the background in Labyrinth Runners. I'm guessing he's the bard professor because... uhh... his robe is red (the Bard coven color) and the powdered wig reminds me of Mozart. I know that's kind of a stretch, but the only other thing we know about the Bard professor is that they leave during the timeskip so Skara can take over, so it's possible! My headcanon name: Professor Presto

Miss Jenkinmeyer (no image) - possibly a staff member while Eda was attending Hexside. There was an incident involving her teeth which wound up in Eda's permanent file.

Hexside Guards (temporary) - can literally smell trouble. They were supposed to be protecting students, but they ended up throwing a lot of people into the detention pit.

That brings us to the end of all the canon staff members. Who is missing? We have no information on professors for the Healing, Plant, Beastkeeping, and Construction tracks, plus the cafeteria staff.

I don't know if it's fair to make the snake-demon guy handle all the electives for every single student, so let's give him some help. One more electives teacher for the advanced math classes and "Spelling" (probably language arts). Heck, I'll throw in astronomy as well because the movements of celestial bodies appear to be very important for casting powerful spells in the show.

Also... Hexside has a drama program and a championship sports program, both with VERY nice facilities.

They definitely need teachers to oversee those. Maybe the Bard and Illusions professors team up for drama, and the PE teacher is also the Grudgby coach?

I have ideas for OCs for all those positions, but maybe I'll make that a separate post so this one can be mostly canon.

5. What about the building itself?

There's a lot going on! Aside from all the classrooms, they have a cafeteria, a detention pit with tunnels under the school, a gym, an auditorium, an outdoor athletics field, Grom's prison under the gym, and this cool round atrium near the entrance.

There are multiple floors, but I don't remember seeing stairs anywhere except for the seating in the gym.

The abominations students have to wheel their homework everywhere anyway, so maybe there are no stairs and it's all spiraling ramps?

Yay for wheelbarrow accessibility!

Lastly, Eda's Secret Room of Shortcuts. It's one of the coolest concepts in the whole show, I wish we got to see it more.

To anyone who made it this far, thank you for reading! Let me know if I should add anything :)

[1-800-call-ria]

The Summer that Lasted Forever :

The Website

pairing: female!reader x NCT DREAM Chenle x NCT WISH Sion x RIIZE Eunseok

genre: camp conselor!au (angst, fluff and etc)

WC: 0.6k

AN: Ideas, criticism and more is encouraged!! I would love to hear everyones thoughts!

Series Masterlist ||

As a college student you found your summers to be open. But this year you wanted a fulfilling vacation. Three months of pure nothing for the past few years left you empty and just as exhausted as before you left for break. Yes you had time to relax and de-stress, but something seemed to be missing. So this year you promised yourself to step out of your comfort zone and at least find a job to occupy your free time.

Finding a summer job hadn't seemed that daunting then. It was definitely scary now. Looking online and even through newspapers to find any places hiring.

You knew for a fact fast food was something you wouldn't do. Handling food, customers and the occasional Karen was not on your bucket list.

Retail hadn't seemed that bad, but it seemed like all the places weren't hiring. You've considered volunteering but again the places either weren't looking for more volunteers or the application process took at least four months.

Just as you're about to give up though, you see a bright multicolored banner sporting a black and white ‘Camp Kwangya’ on the bottom of your screen.

When you scroll all the way down you see a ‘now hiring’ button flashing right in the middle. You've never heard of this place but you continue to click it bringing you to another website. The website honestly looks thrown together and shady with its messy color scheme, minimalist design and blurry photos. And the age categories were also very suspicious with the huge gap of 6-17 years old.

The reviews though told another story.

"This camp will forever be my kid's happy place. The friendships he's made over the last two years are still going strong!"

"My Kid went here years ago! He just recently became a camp counselor, would recommend to anyone who will listen"

"My daughter went here for about 5 years, and she loved it. I would totally recommend this camp for other parents. Each age is divided and my kiddo loved it here. Said it was always the highlight of her summers."

"The counselors are amazing and always put me and my friends first :) "

Scrolling past the reviews and comments about the camp you come to the end of the page and see a link in bright red reading "Our awesome team of counselors that we hope you join!" After you come to another part of the website you're met with a video with the Camp director, Lee Soo-man, introducing each counselor.

First up were the female counselors Minjeong, Jimin, Aeri and Yizhuo. Each had their own charm and honestly were so beautiful.

For the past few years Minjeong (known as Winter to the kids), Jimin (Karina) and Yizhuo (NingNing) had been counselors for the 13-15 year-olds. When Aeri (Giselle) joined last year the groups age range then spanned 13-17 year olds. After explaining that there was a move towards there being at least five counselors-per age, the last few years were exceptions, each girl introduced herself.

The next set of counselors were slightly older including Juhyun (Irene), Seulgi, Seungwan (Wendy), Sooyoung (Joy), and Yerim (Yeri). These women were introduced as the 10, 11 and 12 year old counselors.

Finally Boa, Taeyeon, Hyoyeon, Yuri and Yoona were for the 6-9 year old counselors. They explained that while also being the counselors for the youngsters, they were also apart of the head commit that kept the female side of this camp running. Because these kids were the youngest, they would only stay half of a full summer session. Some kids would only do half days anyways, these were the only kids that didn’t stay 24/7 for the next 6 weeks.

After the last of their introductions the video cut to the director going on about how each counselor was hand chosen by him and the prior/ current ones. It was a very deep and long process only to choose the best option for not only the other team members, but for the kids as well.

Seeing the way director Lee was talking about it, it really did seem like a long and time consuming. The man was passionate about only finding the best option out there. Maybe this wasn't the right job for you.

Just as you're second guessing yourself and about to close out of the website all together. You see a group of the most beautiful men you have ever seen go across your computer screen.

...Okay...so maybe that deep and long application process wasn't really that bad. Was applying worth it? I mean you would be working with fine women and men.

- Do you apply?

[YES] OR [NO]

[mukuharakazui]

As a literature student who interacts with older gay men who used to be married to women on a daily basis, I always forget that people don't easily understand everything about Kazui. I see people saying, "I'm not on board with the gay theory, so don't argue on that basis" after trial 2 and I can't believe they're allowed to vote every day. I interact with at least 10 Kazui Mukuharas per work week and have since I was 13. My dad has dated Kazui Mukuharas. I have an old local newspaper signed by a Kazui Mukuhara.

Sometimes reference some symbolism in his MVs or character art that I assume everyone just knows and people go WHAT THE HELL and I feel like I should do some write-up on him or something because I need to stop assuming that everyone is as Kazuipilled as I am. It's like how I was confused as hell about Muu for a while until I started following people who are insane about her. Also, combing through Kazui's stuff wouldn't be much of a chore to me because he's hot.

[betterbooktitles]

I had a system for writing papers in college: 1 page = 1 hour. It takes a half hour or twenty minutes per page to spew out all your thoughts, and 30-40 minutes to edit. “Editing” meant proofreading it once. No need to go overboard with those secondary drafts. These were undergrad college papers, not high criticism I was hoping to have reviewed by the Pulitzer committee.

My English Lit III professor was one of the many Humanities and Literature department faculty members who drew me away from my original major at Bard College: Film. I wanted, more than anything else, to impress this woman. I was interviewed by the Bard Free Press and was quoted insisting that I would marry the professor one day. In retrospect, her seeing that in print might have tipped her off to the fact that my ideas weren’t always grounded in reality.

I felt a tingling on my cheeks as she passed back our 8-page midterm papers on George Eliot’s Daniel Deronda. Sitting at the wide wooden table, I watched her serenely slide each stack of stapled paper to my fellow students. I watched several of my peers sheepishly collect their papers and grimace at the notes. My first paper on Wordsworth received an ‘A.’ The only note appeared on the last page and pontificated on how hard it is to “relate the sonic values of a poem” while writing about the language in an academic essay. Less a critique and more an observation. She was simply sharing her thoughts! It is hard to mimic the sonic implications of words when people are reading those words silently. My writing was near-perfect save for the fact I couldn’t quite express the mouthfeel of Wordsworth’s poetry while analyzing it. That first paper was enough for this professor to ask me to walk her to her office so I could talk about my goals, my high school education, my life up to that point. We walked in the orange glow of the evening sun past boisterous students excitedly marching in big groups to the cafeteria for dinner. 

In that first office meeting, I felt like she was trying to adopt me. I never in my life had someone show such a keen interest in my mind. Until then, my teachers had a vague sense that I was going to squander whatever potential they saw in me. It felt like they were preemptively disappointed. This professor wanted to talk to me. She liked hearing my thoughts, and we had a great rapport in those office meetings. It didn’t hurt that she was a gorgeous 20-something woman with thick black curly hair, a slight lisp that made me look at her lips whenever she was speaking, and she wrote poetry about her bike seat inadvertently making her come when she rode it. I know I wasn’t the only person on campus who found her ethereally sexy because a male faculty member came up to me in the cafeteria holding the student newspaper in his hand, pointed at my quote, and said “she’s a force of nature” which is a smart adult’s way of saying “this lady fucks” or “I wish I could say more but I’d get fired.” I was smitten and ready to give up my film degree if it meant visiting this office every week to stare at her Velma glasses and the bright orange baubles she wore around her neck that called attention to where the neckline on her sweaters ended.

Read the rest here.

[beardedmrbean]

A facilities worker at Columbia University claims to have been temporarily held hostage by anti-Israel protesters after a mob of anarchists stormed an academic building on the campus and barricaded its doors.

The insurrection began at approximately 12:30 a.m., when anti-Israel protesters who had been staying on the academic lawn of Columbia's Manhattan campus, where about 120 tents remain, stormed Hamilton Hall, an academic building used by the dean. The mob shattered windows, barricaded doors using tables and chairs, and obscured the windows of the facility.

The major escalation came hours after Columbia University administrators began suspending students who failed to leave their encampment.

"They held me hostage," a facilities worker who was in the building when the insurrection began said after he was allowed to leave, according to the student newspaper Columbia Spectator.

ANTISEMITIC RIOT AT COLUMBIA REACHES BOILING POINT AS AGITATORS TAKE OVER ACADEMIC BUILDING, BARRICADE DOORS

The worker exited the building at around 12:40 a.m., per the publication.

Early Tuesday morning, a mob of hundreds of anti-Israel protesters gained access shortly before 1 a.m., and they then began "moving metal gates to barricade the doors, blocking entrances with wooden tables and chairs, and zip-tying doors shut," Columbia Spectator reported.

CALIFORNIA UNIVERSITY REVEALS 'TRUE COST' OF ANTI-ISRAEL MOB THAT TOOK OVER ACADEMIC BUILDINGS

Outside the Columbia University facility, the anti-Israel rebels, many of whom wore masks, locked arms in front of Hamilton Hall to form a human barricade.

The group also placed a banner over the facility, renaming it "Hind’s Hall," after Hind Rajab, a 6-year-old who died during Israel’s war with Hamas in Gaza.

The students are demanding three things from the university: divest their financial support of Israel, become more transparent with what groups the university supports, and provide blanket amnesty to students who have taken part in the disruptive, weeks-long demonstration.

The seizure of the academic building comes after the university gave a deadline of 2 p.m. Monday for students to leave their encampment.

[mariacallous]

Minnesota Governor Tim Walz’s elevation to the national stage as running mate for Vice President Kamala Harris has suddenly put him in the spotlight. Walz had a low national profile until a successful behind-the-scenes strategy led him to be considered for Democrats’ suddenly vacant second spot.

One of the striking elements of Walz’s biography is his unusually deep connections to China. Walz first visited the country in 1989, just months after the Tiananmen Square protests, and returned to the country some 30 times afterward. As an educator and then a small business owner, he facilitated student groups’ trips to China. As a legislator, he served on the Congressional-Executive Commission on China, which monitors human rights and the rule of law in the country, and co-sponsored resolutions urging the release of democratic activist Liu Xiaobo and remembering the Tiananmen Square victims.

Not all the attention to Walz’s China record has been positive. Republican and conservative figures have sought to portray Walz’s China ties as dangerous. On X, for example, Sen. Marco Rubio accused Walz of being a Chinese asset—“an example of how Beijing patiently grooms future American leaders”—who would “allow China to steal our jobs & factories & flood America with drugs.”

But Rubio’s attack has it precisely backward. Walz’s record is that of a measured critic of the Chinese Communist Party—prone neither to exaggeration nor accommodation. Nor is this a pose cooked up by spin doctors in the past few weeks. Small-town Nebraska newspaper articles—published well before Walz had any political ambitions—demonstrate that his professed affection for the Chinese people and culture has been matched by a longstanding criticism of the country’s rulers.

Back in the 1980s and ’90s, it didn’t take a lot to make the local papers. Walz, for instance, was once photographed for the Alliance Times-Herald—“Box Butte County’s Only Family-Owned Newspaper”—for a National Guard project: painting and repairing trash cans in the town center. (The photograph is about as exciting as the description suggests.)

The regular stuff of small-town news reporting—council meetings, 4-H club events, church announcements—was occasionally enlivened by stories about exceptional events. One such, it turned out, was Walz’s decision to teach in China as part of a program run by WorldTeach, a Massachusetts-based nonprofit. (Many news accounts, at the time and later, describe WorldTeach as a Harvard-run program, but it’s more accurate to say it was founded by Harvard students.)

“I’ve always had a real interest in travel, and feel this is a golden opportunity to see a culture that’s 3,000 years old,” Walz, then a senior at Chadron State College, told the Chadron Record in an article announcing his selection in 1989.

Walz would be going under less than glamorous conditions. It was the first year that WorldTeach would make placements in China, the Record reported, and that meant participants had to be resourceful: “They said we’ll basically have to solve our own problems,” Walz said. He said he had to raise $2,500 for his transportation, health insurance, and orientation costs—and, once in China, he would only earn $100 per month in salary (although that was, the Record noted, “about twice the amount generally paid [to] Chinese teachers”).

Although the crackdown on protesters in June 1989 led Walz to wonder whether the trip would go on, the program remained in place. After orientation in Hong Kong and Guangzhou, China, he traveled to his teaching site: a senior middle school in Foshan, a then-rapidly growing city in central Guangdong Province in southern China. There, he taught U.S. history and culture and English to classes of 65 students each from December 1989 to December 1990, according to a 1990 article in the Chadron Record. (Walz’s Midwestern-accentuated U.S. English was a change for the students, whose previous instructor was British, according to a 1994 article in the Scottsbluff Star-Herald.)

His trip was big enough news that the Record printed excerpts from a letter Walz wrote to a Chadron State faculty member while he was abroad. Walz wrote that he was “being treated like a king.” He was, he wrote, “totally responsible for my curriculum. But I’m managing.”

After he returned, Walz was invited to speak about his time at his alma mater, Chadron State. At about the same time, an interview about his year in China ran in local papers. His enthusiasm was obvious: “No matter how long I live, I’ll never be treated that well again,” Walz told the Record in 1990. “They gave me more gifts than I could bring home. It was an excellent experience.” (In 2024, the New York Post twisted this line as evidence that Walz had “fawned over Communist China.”)

Yet in context, it’s clear that Walz was no dupe. During his teaching year, he visited Beijing (a 40-hour trip by rail) and saw Tiananmen Square, according to the Record. As much as Walz loved China and the Chinese people, his attitude toward the Chinese Communist Party was bluntly critical. Tiananmen Square, he told the Record, “will always have a lot of bitter memories for the people.” (Walz later chose June 6 as his wedding date so he could “have a date he’ll always remember,” according to his wife.)

The problem with China, Walz observed, wasn’t its people but the government. “If they had the proper leadership, there are no limits on what [Chinese people] could accomplish,” he told the Record. “They are such kind, generous, capable people. They just gave and gave and gave to me. Going there was one of the best things I have ever done.”

Walz viewed China’s population as eager to leave its Communist-run society. “Many of the students want to come to America to study,” he told the Record. “They don’t feel there is much opportunity for them in China.” He mentioned that during one of his trips to nearby Macau, then still a Portuguese colony, the government granted amnesty to Chinese immigrants living in the colony illegally, triggering a stampede by tens of thousands of Chinese who wanted residency in the West.

The trip shaped Walz’s career as an educator. Within a few months of his return, Walz had found a job as a social studies teacher in Alliance, Nebraska, a town whose population was then just under 10,000 people. He created a pen-pal program linking his students to Chinese middle-school students at his old teaching placement, where a friend of his worked. The program was reported on the front page of the Alliance Times-Herald in 1991.

Walz, who must have been a dynamic teacher, used the exchange of letters to not only bridge cultural gaps but also demonstrate the stakes of then-acrimonious U.S.-China government relations to his students. Walz pointedly described the politics of the countries’ then-seemingly large trade imbalance (a fraction of what it is now) to the Times-Herald: “The Chinese government wants us to buy what they sell, but won’t buy what we sell.”

Soon, Walz was leading groups of students to China. The first visit was in July 1993, when he took 25 Alliance High School students on a trip partly funded by the Chinese government, although the students and sponsors, including Walz, had to cover costs of $1,580 each, according to an article in the Scottsbluff Star-Herald; Walz helped by raising funds from local businesses. (In a rare criticism of an aspect of Chinese culture, rather than the Chinese Communist Party, Walz responded to one student’s interest in hearing Chinese opera by saying he’d “rather eat glass” than see another Chinese opera.) Walz’s honeymoon with his wife, a fellow teacher, the next year involved two student trips to China, according to the Star-Herald. Later, he and his wife would start a business to promote similar exchanges.

For all his fondness toward China, Walz’s descriptions of its people at times reflected the prevailing stereotypes of the time. “The students are almost too well behaved,” he wrote in his letter from China that was excerpted in the Record in 1989. In a 1994 profile ahead of his honeymoon in China, Walz told the Star-Herald that it had been hard to memorize names and tell his students apart (although he also noted that Chinese students thought all Americans looked alike.) To the Times-Herald in 1993, he described his students as not overly creative but industrious: “[T]here was never even any unfinished homework,” he recalled. And, for Walz, mostly used to small-town life, the sheer scale of China was astonishing: “The people were the best part, and the worst part was the number of people.”

The contemporaneous (and surprisingly extensive) record of how Walz’s time in China influenced him clearly rejects the idea that Walz was groomed or otherwise misled by his time in the country. He was an earnest, young observer of a society and government radically unlike his own. After repeated exposure, however, China became increasingly familiar to him. His opinions about the Chinese people and their government derived from firsthand observations, filtered through his own background and reading.

Neither a hawk nor a dove, Walz approached China as a student and a teacher—an owl, to steal a metaphor. Throughout these early interviews, his insistence on the separation between a people and their government—and his repeated criticism of the Chinese government—was plain. So was his emphasis on the importance of democracy and recognizing where the United States fell short.

People change, and seeking clues to how a potential Vice President Walz would act based on how high school teacher Walz approached his lessons is clearly perilous. Still, it seems clear that Walz values facts, and in particular experience, rather than theory or ideology; that he has deeply held core beliefs about China’s people and government set in the era of Tiananmen; and that his commitment to promoting human rights—and U.S. economic interests in trade negotiations—is longstanding.

With that background, leavened by subsequent experience on China issues as a member of Congress, it seems more likely than not that Walz would be neither inflexibly hostile nor naïve about relations with Beijing.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Rikki Schlott

Published: July 20, 2023

While just 7% of Americans are LGBTQ+, students at Ivy League universities are identifying as non-straight at rates as much as five times the general public.

Brown University made headlines after a student poll revealed a whopping 38% of their student body is not straight.

“Honestly I’m not surprised by that statistic,” an anonymous senior at Brown University told The Post. “At Brown, there’s no social pressure to fit into a box or hide your identity.”

Other Ivies aren’t far behind. In fact, more than a third of students at Princeton and more than a quarter at Yale and Harvard identify as LGBTQ+, as per recent polling — and campus sources chalk it up, in part, to politics and a desire to join an “oppressed” group.”

According to the Census Bureau, 20% of Gen Z is LGBTQ+, far more than older cohorts. But Ivy League students far outstrip their generation as a whole.

According to Abigail Anthony, who graduated from Princeton University with a degree in politics this year, a progressive and identity-consumed culture on elite campuses could be contributing.

[ Ivy League schools have much larger proportions of LGBTQ+ students than the general population. ]

“Since sexual orientation identity is largely non-falsifiable, many people will claim LGBTQ status to join the ‘oppressed’ group,” she told The Post.

According to a Princeton student newspaper survey, 35% of the 2023 graduating class identified as something other than straight.

“It could be that students at elite schools are more inclined to be obsessed with social acceptance and professional advancement, and … profess an LGBTQ identity to indicate their political beliefs on a campus that leans left,” she added.

At schools for which historical data is available, the proportion of students who are not straight is skyrocketing. Brown jumped from 14% in 2010 up to 38% this year.

Some 29% of Yale’s class of 2023 identified as something other than heterosexual when they were surveyed as freshmen in 2019. That’s up from just 15% of the class of 2020 when they were asked by the school paper in 2016.

And the proportion of LGBTQ+ students at Harvard tripled over the last decade, from 10% of incoming freshmen in 2013 to 29% in 2021.

The most recent data from Cornell comes from 2017, when 21.4% of freshmen were LGBTQ+. The University of Pennsylvania is an outlier, at just 15% as of 2022.

Ben Appel, 40, finished his undergraduate degree in 2020 as an adult student at Columbia’s General Studies program. And, although he is gay himself, he said his Gen Z classmates were markedly more likely to identify as “queer.”

[ A student newspaper poll found that the number of students at Brown who are LGBTQ+ jumped from 14% in 2010 up to 38% this year. ]

“Queer is as much politics as it is a sexual identity. Maybe even more so,” Appel, author of the forthcoming book “Cis White Gay: The Making of a Gender Heretic,” told The Post. “The Ivies have a lot of really privileged kids. I’m sure many are motivated to identify into a so-called marginalized community in order to earn some social cache.”

He thinks a growing number of amorphous labels allow more people to fall under the LGBT umbrella than ever before.

“The ‘trans’ and ‘queer’ umbrellas have expanded to include gender-nonconforming people and even people who would normally be considered straight,” Appel noted.

[ The share of heterosexual students at Brown dropped by 25.2% between 2010 and 2023. ]

Anthony agrees: “In some instances, a straight person will identify as bisexual but simply continue dating the opposite sex.”

Although Columbia hasn’t published similar figures, Appel and another Columbia graduate both estimate they are in line with other Ivy League schools.

“It’s becoming a majority,” an anonymous member of Columbia’s class of 2022 observed.

Appel said that Ivy League universities are particularly likely to have curriculum that is fixated on gender and sexuality.

“It makes sense that these polls were taken at Ivy League universities,” he told The Post. “Students take one queer theory course and come out as queer.”

At Princeton this year, 35% of seniors identified as something other than straight, compared with just 25% of incoming freshmen. And nearly one in five Princeton grads this year came out while in college.

Cornell developmental psychology professor and young adult sexuality expert Ritch Savin-Williams believes that Gen Z students are coming out in larger numbers due to increased social acceptance — especially on progressive campuses: “The shift has been in the visibility and the willingness of individuals to express it and to declare it.”

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"Show me the incentive and I will show you the outcome." -- Charlie Munger

[cozymochi]

DOES TIA Do any school club stuff? Does she have one she admires, likes? Dislikes?

THANKS I LOVE TIA LORE DUMP EXCUSES!! SHE IS OFFICIALLY in the Newspaper Club 😩, but not out of actual interest. It’s just a means to assist in documenting her school life as she’s supposed to do. It’s her credit, I guess. Honestly, they don’t really get into the logistics too much, so I wouldn’t sweat the details here either. I imagine Crowley just shoved her (and Grim) in there.

Though despite being in that club, Grim says he’s in the “Gourmet Club.” But that’s just self-proclaimed only 😩 that club doesn’t actually exist, it’s just an excuse to eat food after classes are done. (Tho im pretty sure this is actually true, I have no basis for this though, just a hunch, but my hunch hasn’t been wrong yet.) I’m sure his “club” has a lot going for it considering the sole member lives with freaking Tia, an already gifted chef. Besides, they count as one student. If Tia is officially in the Newspaper Club, then so is he via technicality.

Since cooking is an art she’d probably be more drawn to the “arts” clubs. It’s hard to say if she admires any though, given I think she can have a one track mind at times. I don’t think she really gives herself the opportunity to be interested in them beyond surface level. Which kinda sucks, cuz she might be missing out on new things to experience or be invested in. She’s not a sports person either, but nearly all her closer friends are in sports clubs, so she’s often present to see tourneys, games, whatever if they have any. Which btw, this is definitely a shift from how she’d be back in her home world, cuz if her friends there ever invited her to anything or ask her to do something like that she’d’ve just shirked it in favor of focusing on her long term goal (as per her Tiana allusions, cough cough. And now she may never see those friends again :’3). She still kinda tries to shirk going to these things because… habits, y’know. I’m not entirely sure she has any opinion on sports clubs themselves, again, that one track mind can sorta. Y’know.

The only club Tia would actually want to hypothetically be in is a Cooking Club because god forbid she stray from the path she set up for herself. Though, I am not sure if one is confirmed to actually exist at the school. The Master Chef/Culinary Crucible special class DOES though, so I don’t know. I DREW THAT! …If Tia wasn’t so serious sometimes, I don’t think she would be totally opposed to just joining in on the “Gourmet Club” thing. She loves food too.

Total aside, I like to imagine that the Newspaper Club is sparsely populated with a few guys (probably 3) who just don’t even talk to each other lol. They all do different things without exactly collaborating because it’s NRC. No one reads the newspaper anyway!! Internet exists, as everyone points out. Club time for Tia is sitting in a classroom and perusing her ghost camera photos and organizing things. Or just… think. Worst case scenario she and Grim are completely alone in that “club” and it was a dead club that only got resurrected cuz it was convenient for the bird man and happened to line up with Tia’s documenting school life thing. Honestly that feels real. She’d rather be doing anything else though. It’s not like clubs were a school requirement back home unless you wanted to look more rounded on some applications. Clubs weren’t exactly on her radar either, it was saving money to get into her own school of her dreams. So dividing time for a club and hanging with people was mostly off the table.

I think Tia is still trying to figure herself out though. A lot of her identity so far is still solely based around her long term career goal and hardly considers much of anything else if it doesn’t tie into that somehow. The whole “being transported to another world” thing is just an obstacle on the path right now. Omg I wonder if she’ll be forced to go through life changing stuff, learn lessons, and go with the flow on top of being forced to confront any internal demons that up until now she’s been burying from watching other guys completely collapse from doing so, plus… other typical things of the genre!!! 🫣🫣

…it’s an in-joke that I think she low key enjoys the picture taking. The cast is very pretty.