#I won't tell the Department if u don't want me to

[officialdump]

What would we need to do if we had a small shifter currently huddled up in the radio room with no details other then hes a shifter, hes scared to go home, he has most likely been living outside for a long time, and he doesnt seem to want any help?

This seems like a department issue… do you handle empoweeed children well fair?

- 🧸🖍️ ( @damn-daycare-news )

short answer, yes

long answer, still yes, but the system is kinda shit and only work for a big handful of kids

it works for a lot, but not for all

and judging by the detail for this little man, I don't think he'll do very hunky-dory there

I mean, if he doesn't end up having any proper home, u could always send him my way 😃 I DON'T MEAN THAT IN A WEIRD CREEPY GUY WAY, I'm just really great with kids and wouldn't mind having to take one under my wing if he's too much for u👍

[allisonlol]

HII !! could you do dazai, chuuya and fyodor with a s/o that forgot pretty much everything from their past/forgets a lot in the present due to trauma? if possible male reader, and if not gn works aswell! thank you :))

a/n: felt this req hard LOL

warnings: memory loss, past trauma (not elaborated on)

(Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor) With a S/O with Memory Loss From Trauma

Dazai

i feel like dazai can relate in some ways because he too has immense trauma but instead of forgetting it, he remembers it too well

therefore in a way he's grateful that ur brain is blocking those memories so u don't have to remember the pain

dazai had noticed your forgetful behavior the second he met you, and had already categorized it as due to trauma in your past

honestly finds your forgetfulness adorable but it also enrages him bc someone hurt you enough to cause it

simply does not comment on any of this though. if you mention that you forgot something that happened literally yesterday he'll simply smile at you (is that a hint of sadness in his expression?) and reassure u that it's okay

will text u updates throughout the day to make sure u aren't forgetting anything

pictures pictures pictures!!!! literally photographs everything u guys do together so you can always look back to remember :)

but unbeknownst to you, dazai will secretly do some deep digging into your past to find out exactly what happened and who to get revenge on <3

^trust me when i say they will deeply regret everything they had ever done to you

Chuuya

it's canon that chuuya can't remember what... the first 7 years of his life? so he totally understands

he won't question u at all abt the reasonings for your memory loss unless u wanted to talk abt it

does get worried abt your current forgetfulness though. with a job as strenuous as being in the mafia, having a good memory is important

^if any of the higher ups knew you weren't "sufficient enough" in that department, despite your other strengths, you would be disposed of

this added stress doesn't help you at all but chuuya does his best to keep you safe

^having a boyfriend who is also your executive is very useful in this aspect

leaves little notes and reminders on your desk so u won't forget anything important

hell, chuuya will even fill out reports for you if u were having trouble remembering the events that took place

i feel like he would also pay very close attention to everything u guys do together so, if you forgot, he would be able to tell you all about it

Fyodor

another one who categorized your memory loss as due to trauma the second he met you

unlike the others tho, he will question u about it

if you’re honest with him & say that it’s due to traumatic events, he’ll ask if you want him to do anything about it for you (in other words, find and eliminate the ones who caused it 😊)

^if you say no to this, he’ll nod and agree with u but secretly hunt them down on his own

however if you lie to fyodor and say that you’re just forgetful (not due to trauma) he’ll frown & keep asking probing questions until he gets the truth out of u

has he heard of privacy? like damn

^its out of love tho. not saying it’s right but fyodor shows his care by learning as much abt u as possible. he needs to know everything, good or bad

finds your current forgetfulness adorable, albeit irritating at times (remember who we’re talking abt here)

if you forgot an event or important piece of information he will get slightly annoyed with you & might say some insensitive things 😬

^tho once he sees that he’s upset you, fyodor will usually sigh and apologize

recommends u keep a journal for reminders, however he also logs all events that u do alone or together so you won’t forget in the future

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @irethepotato @serenareiss @thescrunkly @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster

[radiant-reid]

Omg ur recent drunk reader blurb is so cute!! It got me thinking we all know Spence is a clingy boy post sex but I feel like we don’t talk enough about clingy gf like all she wants to do is cuddle and he has to bribe her with kisses to convince her to get up and pee even better if the first time they have sex afterwards she’s like “can u spend the night” with puppy dog eyes and it’s bc previous bf would just up and leave but Spencer would never

ouch relate

"Don't move." You request, knowing what Spencer's about to do.

It's what they always do. He'll act like he cares about making sure you're okay, but as soon as you're apart, he'll make an excuse about having to leave, and he'll be gone because he's just there for the next. Or worse, he won't even tell you he's leaving, you'll just get out of the bathroom, and he'll be gone. A deep pit sinks into your stomach at that possibility.

"Come on, baby, you've got to go pee." He reminds you, nudging your shoulder. He cups your cheeks as he peppers kisses all over your forehead and nose. "For me?"

You shake your head, tangling your legs with his and burying your head in your chest. "No, I want to stay here with you."

"I need to look after you now." He tells you softly. "Please let me, sweet girl."

"You're not going?" You ask, pulling back to look at him.

He frowns like he can't understand what you're saying before shaking his head. "No. No, of course not." He assures you. "I wouldn't ever leave."

"You'll sleep over?" You double-check, in more disbelief that he would do something like that for you than he is that someone wouldn't.

"Definitely." He promises. "I'll even attempt to cook you breakfast."

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head. "Maybe not or we'll have the fire department here at 7am."

He kisses your neck until you're giggling. "The sooner you go, the sooner we can get back in bed and cuddle." He tells you.

You're smiling more now, agreeing to get out of bed. Spencer gets out of the other side.

"Want some chips?" He asks, earning a nod from you before you go to speak. He cuts you off, knowing what you're going to ask for. "And gummy bears, I know."

[starlost97]

— melt.

summary: After seeing how heartbroken the families of the people who work for the department get when they die, you decided to not get involved with anyone. You didn't expect, however, to have that ice wall melted away by someone — Jay Halstead — in your own unit. And when Jay got hurt in one of the cases, you couldn't help but be mad at him, and it didn't take long for him to figure out the why.

tags: fluff, personal favorite, kind of grumpy x sunshine trope, Jay Halstead is a smug bastard, gn!reader.

characters: Jay Halstead.

warnings: mention of near-death experience, swearing.

a/n: wrote this after episode 7 of the Percy Jackson series (hence the Asphodels mention) at 2AM. I was actually going to request that but I ended up wanting to write it myself! hope u like it :)

word count: 1,248.

requested?: no.

Grumpy, reserved, quiet. All words used to describe you. And they weren't really that mistaken.

There was a thick ice wall between you and the rest of the world. A wall that didn't allow you to build any deeper relationship with anyone. One that burned people with its overwhelming coldness.

A wall that you build it yourself a little over a month after entering the Chicago's Intelligence Unit. Specifically after you watched how destroyed a family felt after losing a relative who worked for the department.

You felt selfish for even thinking of getting emotionally involved with someone. What if something happened to you? To them? You would never forgive yourself. You'd be rooted in the Asphodels Meadows — trapped with your own regret for all eternity — if anything ever happened because of you.

Everything was going well with it. You weren't that happy, but you were happier than you would be if you carried all the guilt of putting a loved one in danger.

But you never could prepare yourself to the warmth of Jay Halstead.

How cheeky of you to fall in love with a sweet smile. But it was true. You felt pathetically helpless any time he laughed at your jokes and showed you his teeth.

It was bittersweet. His laugh sounded like heaven and it made your life a living hell. How could you not be selfish? How could you think of being a good person when he was so close to you?

You tried to rationalized it. Tried to think that he wasn't that good. That perfect. That it was just your love-starved brain romanticizing him to tempt you.

Which lead you to the mistake of getting to know him.

Everything got worse.

The attempt of hating his flaws turned out to realizing that his loyalty was too much for his own good. He would mindlessly die for you, without a second thought or regret. How intoxicating.

He was like a honey-flavored poison. The sweetest way to lose yourself forever.

And unfortunately, you tasted him. Not only that, but it was never enough. You couldn't get enough of him. He became everything.

So when he almost died during one of the cases because he risked himself a little too much to get information, you were mad.

"Will you tell me why you're not talking to me?" He asked you, leaning over your desk and tilting his head, letting out a sigh. "Come on, I could've died and you won't even talk to me?"

"It's exactly because of that." You murmured, annoyed, not looking at him.

"What? I didn't hear you." Jay said, getting closer.

"It's because of that!" You said, now louder. You two were alone in the office. You were finishing up some papers while Jay — who couldn't for the life of him be separated from you for more than a couple hours — made you company.

"You're not talking to me because I risked myself?" Jay asked, confused, watching as you got up from the chair and went to the break room.

"I'm not talking to you because you're irresponsible!" You answered, finally looking at him in the eyes. Your bodies facing one another.

"I did it for the case! We needed the info!" Jay argued and you groaned, massaging your temples.

"Oh, my God, you really don't understand, do you?" You brushed your hands against your face, trying to calm yourself down.

"No, I don't. You do things like that all the time, and usually is worse. But when I do it, I'm irresponsible?" He asked, frowning.

He looked at you, trying to understand what was wrong. You weren't like this. You didn't fight with people unless their actions harm the case. So what was happening?

It was when the realization hit.

You were worried.

"Detective," He called, flashing you that damned smile that you so desired to kiss. "are you mad because I could've died?"

"Wha- What? No!" You mumbled, taking a step back as he approached you.

"Oh, yeah?" He mumbles, smiling smugly at you. "Are you sure of that?" He asks, getting closer and closer.

"Y-Yes, I am! If you died, it would've been a loss for the team and all the time and money that they invested on you would go to waste and-" You gulped, feeling the cold wall against your back and watching as he trapped you, putting his arms on each side of your face. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You said, nervously pushing his chest, but not really wanting him to leave.

"Like what?"

"Like that! Staring at my lips! Stop it!"

"Or what?" He asked, smugly.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, and as the seconds went by, he got closer. His forehead was soon touching yours, and his smile only grew bigger.

"Looks just like a dream I had." He said, putting his hand on your chin. "It ended very well. "

You didn't answer right away, trying to process your thoughts. You wanted to give a good answer, something that would make him go away — even though you didn't really want that —, but a wave of curiosity hit you with the revelation that he dreamt of you.

"How so?" Your voice was almost inaudible.

"I got to do more than just kiss you." He whispered, as if telling a secret. "But I think that just being able to kiss you would already make me the luckiest man on earth."

Your gaze fell to his lips, and just the thought of kissing them got you nervous. Your heartbeat rapidly beating against your chest, and for a moment he thought that he could feel it too.

But it was actually his own.

"Please," He asked. It could be mistaken for a beg, but the smug look on his face said otherwise. "detective."

"I thought…" You were breathless. Your nervousness didn't let you speak properly, but still, for some reason, you knew exactly what to say.

"Say it."

"I thought you were a man of action," You breathed out. "detective."

He smiled.

His hands — painfully — slowly went to the nape of your neck, holding it as he pressed his lips against yours, devouring it slowly, torturing you with it.

The kiss was the epitome of breathtaking. His lips moved slow and tenderly against yours, savouring you like it was his last meal.

He could live the rest of his life devoting himself to kissing you. How could it taste so sweet?

Jay wasn't much of a religious man, and he was even farther of believing in Greek gods. But as he felt your body against his and your sweet kiss on his lips, he was sure that you must be Aphrodite's work.

Masterpiece, actually.

His hands traveled around your body, feeling your curves, trying to memorize it so he didn't feel so sad when they weren't against his fingertips — even though that he knew it would be his life's biggest torment.

And he got a taste of it when he had to part himself from your lips.

"What were you saying, baby?" He asked, with a smug smile on his face.

"Fuck you, Jay Halstead." You said before kissing him again, feeling his smile melt against your mouth as your fingers intertwined his hair.

"You wish." He mumbled against your lips, lifting you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his waist.

Jay warmth was definitely more than enough to melt the ice wall away.

[gluion]

finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, gender neutral reader, some depressive and insecure thoughts, hurt/comfort, the last five years story-telling method (aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward... i hope that makes sense), brief mention of blood from picking on your skin, tiger parents so... parental issues, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, jealousy remains but love triumphs, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ 15.7k words

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by reneé rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ it's finally out! this is my submission for @deoboyznet's the love letter collective event! this work is so so personal to me on so many levels so i hope you all love and treat this fic with care :')) for the bitches who struggle with parents and dreams.... this one's for you (i am in the same boat) i appreciate everyone who's been so patient and looking forward to this fic's release. i'd like to thank @hcuyk for being a betareader for this fic! i also want to dedicate this one to @sungbeam and @wavesmp3 <3 your works inspire me so much and i think this fic is a product of how much they've influence me. hanbin's version is now available! please don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

present -> three weeks after the interview, 2024

the newsroom never sleeps. the rings of landlines and clacks of keyboards bounce off the four walls. through light bulbs or sunshine, light continues to remain. and at every corner, a journalist stands—ready to enter the depths of slumber but remain on their toes as they await for an update on their unraveling story.

but the newsroom is rarely busy unless there’s a major nationwide event, election season or the super bowl to name a few, for most journalists are out to discover what the world has to offer.

knowledge doesn’t only come from the chitchat of your coworkers. it’s only on the field that you’ll hear of hearsay and testimonies. after all, the choice to probe rests on your shoulders.

“there’s a typo over there.”

“huh? where?”

“over here,” you mumble as your finger darts to point at a section on the screen. “it’s supposed to say “in their climactic performance on road to kingdom,” not climatic.”

“ah, i see it now. sorry about that,” lee jihoon of digital development says as he corrects the error. his hair is disheveled from the hood that once perched on his head during the night he spent in the newsroom. you would’ve scolded the guy—go home and take a shower before you stink up the place—but you are no better, grouped with the other journalists who stayed up in the office.

“there we go. should be all good. now, are you ready to go through the profiles?”

an exhausted chuckle departs from your lips. “yeah, let’s go—”

“what’s the update?” life and arts editor kim namjoon—your editor—comes to you with a smile.

the grey hoodie he wears paired with comfortable jeans shows that he’s a little relaxed. for once, you don’t see him on his phone, battling the deadlines or getting pitched stories by the other editors. it’s a nice sight but one that won’t last for long.  

“we just finished going through the article about the group, so we still have yet to go through the profiles.” jihoon then looks at you. “i can’t believe you basically wrote 12 articles. like, 11 profiles and one main article is a lot. you didn’t want to work on it with anyone else?”

once namjoon stands beside you, you bump your shoulder against his figure. “i didn’t have a choice, did i?” it’s a rhetorical question but one your editor still chooses to answer.

“unfortunately, we’re understaffed, but it seemed like you got the hang of it. i wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.” namjoon shoots you a smile before redirecting his attention back to jihoon. “and as much as i’d love to tell y/n more, we have to pick up the pace.” without any further questions, the three of you resume with work. 

there’s no time to waste in the journalism industry. still, his praise doesn’t go unnoticed. 

one article turned into eight done in a matter of 30 minutes, all with the help of three pairs of eyes to go through them. (namjoon seemed to carry the heavy lifting. after all, the guy was trained to be quick in reading and spotting errors.)

it should’ve been easy to keep up with your editor for all the other articles; you know each profile like the back of your hand.

then, the face of a boy who you once knew sits on the screen.

his gaze seems to pierce through your soul, almost in the same way you last talked to him. the loose ends of composure slip through your fingers; your breath’s stuck in your throat as the hammering of your heart fills your ears. yet, he stands still on the monitor.

as your eyes drift through the passages you’ve written, every sound is drowned out. the voice of your editor fades like the everchanging seasons and the clicks of the keyboard resemble the sobs you let out in the comfort of your childhood room.

and suddenly, the hands of the clock have turned all the way back to 2014. the cubicles transformed into aisles of chips and instant ramen, and you hear mr. kim’s voice in the distance—i have some hotteok! fresh from the pan! but amidst it all, you hear the giggles of the boy, your best friend, as he rushes towards you—i’ll go audition and make you proud. as your arm is wrapped with the heat of his fingers, you almost believe that your life as a journalist is nothing but a dream—

“i knew him.” the illusion disappears within a blink of an eye. namjoon’s eyes snap towards you and jihoon stops scrolling through the website. “we went to the same high school.”

you aren’t sure why you revealed that to your coworkers, let alone your boss. it’s an old memory—your weight to carry. before you can apologize for disrupting their work, namjoon’s hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing shapes into it. when you look over at him, you’re greeted by his smile. it resembles your bed after a long day of work or a slow day at the newsroom.

but it never lives up to him, whose giggles resemble nature’s symphonies. the two shots of espresso you need at the start of the day once came in the form of his warm embrace. most of all, his smile is enough to illuminate the world even through the strongest storms and times when power went out.

for the remaining articles, not a single word leaves you. before you know it, all 12 articles were ready to go up on the web.

“that’s all of it. should i still schedule them to go up around 12 p.m.?” jihoon notes as he saves the drafts.

“yeah, 12 p.m. still sounds good. thanks a lot.” namjoon nudges his shoulder before looking over to you. “let’s talk in my office.”

you don’t question his orders. once namjoon takes off, you follow him all the way to his office. as he swings the door open, you are met with the familiar sight of his workspace. hues of green and brown mix, where nature and art meet within the space of corporate.

once namjoon takes a seat on his chair, you find your spot across from him. his eyes stare off to the window. for a moment, you’re not sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting.

seconds pass and not a single word has been said—

“this place’s always alive,” your editor breaks the silence. “don’t you think so?”

you follow his line of sight. busy seoul never changes; the skyscrapers pollute the sky and the people never sleep, off to work or off to party.

“where’d you grow up again?”

you look back at namjoon whose eyes still remain locked on the city. “cheongju.”

he hums. “i haven’t been there. nice place?”

“yeah, but i haven’t gone back in a while.”

“when was the last time?” his eyes finally meet yours.

your teeth grasp the inside of your cheek. “2014, since i first left,” you admit. 

“do you miss it?”

you’re not sure how to answer. the pavements you’ve scraped your knees against and the walls your laughs bounced off of—do you miss them all? or is the reason behind your laughter and scabs the one you long for?

“is that why you were hesitant about interviewing them?” namjoon’s thumbs fiddle with each other. “because of your history with him?”

now, you stare at your linked hands. maybe the silence from you is enough to answer his question but you know namjoon would never settle for a soundless answer.

“i—i’m not a good person. and even if i didn’t make the choice to leave, i—” you hold yourself back. your fingers start to pick on the skin around your thumbs, peeling it so blood can spill. 

“it’s okay, i understand. you don’t have to share it with me.” your eyes drift back to namjoon, spotting a small smile that rests on his face. “it must’ve been hard to relive it all.”

the bond you have with namjoon is one that you hold close to your heart. through his mentorship, you got to learn about what it means to be a writer. the fears of being a journalist would loom over you, where questions of salary and demanding work hours would occupy your mind, but namjoon became someone who would absolve them all. he became a pillar in your life, one that provides you hope and comfort within the industry.

“so, don’t feel pressured to talk about it. but if you ever want to open up about it, then i’ll be here.”

namjoon’s giving you an exit. are you willing to take it?

you cross your arms as you lean back into the chair. “you know how i was a science major then?”

“yeah, i remember looking over your resume. and then i saw that you were part of your university’s publication.”

your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek. “i would’ve gotten some job in that field, like, i had it lined up for me.”

“really? like lab coat and all?”

as namjoon attempts to hold back his laugh over the image, you chuckle along. “yeah, lab coat and all! it’s crazy how my life was all set for that field, but i’m here now.” you look down at your arms. “i think just facing him in a completely different field that i once used to imagine with him was just strange. but i think hearing his answers really did it for me.”

namjoon nods at your words. “care to have lunch with me?” your eyes snap back to your editor. “i’m guessing you want to talk about it, after all.”

all you do is smile before getting off your seat.

spring of 2014

the season of spring has graced cheongju; the sun gleams in the expanse of blue and birds perched on tree branches sing their songs. it’s the perfect season to embrace the wonders of the town.

while it would be a delight to bask under the returning warmth, you’re stuck within the walls of the classroom, head resting on crossed arms. 

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

“y/n.” you quickly sit up before your eyes settle on your adviser, ms. jeon, who stands in front of the classroom. “let’s take attendance.”

with that, you’re beside her as you call out each name on the class list. it’s a quick process of saying your classmates’ names for them to respond in variations of “present,” until you reach the section of last names that start with a ‘j’.

“ji changmin.” no response.

you rip your eyes off the piece of paper, only met with your classmates who either look at each other in confusion or spaced out in their own worlds.

“ji changmin?” when you’re met with the same reaction, you’re ready to mark the student absent—

“sorry!” the doors slam open. a boy clad in a white polo and jogging pants is panting by the entrance, covered in sweat as he rests on the edge of it. “sorry, i’m late.”

“oh, it’s okay! you arrived just in time.” ms. jeon smiles at the tardy student. as you watch him take a seat, his eyes lock with yours, but your adviser nudges you before saying, “y/n, proceed.”  

ji changmin made his name a few years back at a competition. the applause and roars from the crowd marked his spot in the school. others describe his movement as of cranes, standing in the middle of a pond as they do their best to minimize forming any ripples, or of elephants, swaying their trunks with control like no other.

but he’s a versatile dancer; nothing can truly capture him.

once you’ve finished marking the attendance, you go back to your seat. you’re ready to start the day with no bother but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“now, you can see in these,” your art teacher, ms. park, points to the screen showcasing works from her favorite contemporary artists like kwon yongju and félix gonzález-torres, “that there are no borders to what constitutes art. and that’s not wrong because we have to recognize that art comes in different forms as we progress, from traditional painting and sculptures to digital ones.”

this field isn't your strong suit. with a greater understanding of the sciences, you struggle to create anything that could be on par with the works of any artist. yet, you enjoyed learning about every piece that your teacher shared, like unfolding and admiring something you know you can never replicate or create. still, the universe decides that they have other plans for you.

“as i mentioned before, i’ll be giving you time to work on your final assessment, which is to create an artwork for the class exhibit. for this deliverable, i’m asking that your work will be a collaborative one, meaning you aren’t working alone.” in a sea of chatter, some groans exit your classmates. “remember, inspiration doesn’t come from your own bubble! take this as your opportunity to create something that you’ve never imagined.”

within a split second, students are off their seats as they attempt to find a partner to work with. you, however, were struggling to think of who you could team up with. admittedly, you have a very different work style compared to others—even cheng xiao, aspiring valedictorian, didn’t enjoy working with you. she turned every activity into a competition against you. (you didn’t enjoy her, either.) while you’re considering shamefully going up to your classmates like a stray dog looking for anyone willing to care for them—

“hi!” in front of you stands the tardy student of today, all smiles as his hands find comfort in the pockets of his jogging pants. “do you have a partner already?”

with furrowed eyebrows, you can’t help but look him up and down. “no, why?”

“well,” changmin looks around the classroom, “everyone seems to have paired up except for us.” as his eyes drift back to you, he flashes you a smile, one that shows the dips engraved into his cheeks. “which leaves me to ask if you would like to work with me for this.”

you don’t have a choice. ms. park would never bend the rules for you. if anything, she would find a way to pair you with another student who would dread the idea of working with you. (“i’m sure they won’t mind being partners with you, right?” is what she would ask the poor student, only to be met with their retreat.)

“unless we accept a failing mark, which i’m sure we both don’t want.” it’s not like changmin had a choice as well.

“okay.” with one word, light fills his eyes, enough to resemble the starlight that grazes your skin every night. “we can meet and discuss our schedules, especially because i’ve got ap stat, and you have, uhm,” a cough leaves you, “training, i’m assuming, or rehearsals. i don’t really know what you call them.”

his eyebrows shoot up as his mouth parts open. “o—oh, yeah. i usually have training after class until 8 p.m. on tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays.”

“same. my classes are until 7 p.m. on tuesdays and thursdays, so maybe we can use the other days to work together?”

with one nod from him, his dimples reappear. “great! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

before you know it, everyone finds their way back to their seats for ms. park’s final reminders. you do your best to pay attention to every announcement, jotting down every word on your planner and planning out your agenda for the upcoming weeks. yet, your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they drift back to the boy who discreetly passes notes to kim donghan, another dancer on the team, all while listening to the teacher.

you don’t notice how long you spend staring at changmin until he turns to meet your gaze. in that split second, you look at each other—then, embarrassment washes over you. you shift your attention back to ms. park. as you drum your fingers against the desk, mentally kicking yourself over the interaction, you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you.

his dimples make their reappearance before he looks back at ms. park. you do the same as you attempt to listen to her ramble about banksy’s works. 

(you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

the first time you get to meet with changmin for the project happens the following week. you two had different commitments to attend to, whether it be other projects or training. and while you would usually settle to meet in the school library or a cafe nearby, you find yourself inside the empty gymnasium, sitting on bleachers while your partner stands in front of mirrors.

“don’t you think it would be nice to combine our hobbies together?”

your pencil taps against the notebook. “like, your dancing? with what?”

“whatever you like to do!” once he makes his way to you, he leans on the row in front of you with crossed arms. “i mean, do you have anything you like to do during your free time?”

a scoff leaves you. “funny of you to assume that i have free time.”

“what’s your schedule like?”

“well, i have our classes and ap ones, then kumon at night.”

changmin reels at the thought of your schedule. “that’s brutal. the last time i had kumon was back in grade 4.”

“yeah, but i’m sure yours is busy as well. the amount of time that you put into training is…” his eyes are wide, hanging on your words. it’s the hope they hold that has you say, “admirable.”

a shy smile takes over his features. “yeah, but it’s only because my family is supportive of what i do.”

then, limbs whose color resembles the void slither their way to your heart, wrapping around it while the organ struggles to beat; it’s a slow process but an unending hole that will birth from it. yet, you do your best to fight off these limbs, unraveling them one by one in hopes it will give up—until you settle for shaking them off.

you only muster out a hum.

“do you have anything you like to do during those short breaks?”

your lips trill. “i don’t know. watch something on youtube?”

his cheeks puff up, stuck in his thoughts as he tries to navigate this project—and you—until his eyes glint. “what do you do when you want to vent?”

“you sure have a lot of questions,” you comment, trying to hold back a chuckle at his curiosity. “i can just adjust to you. maybe attempt to draw, picture, or even film you.”

his eyebrows furrow. “but that wouldn’t make it collaborative. i want us to work on something that aligns with what we do.”

a beat passes.

he holds your gaze. “i want us to create something that shows us.”

inside you, a gong is struck; its sound reverberates throughout your body, from the crown of your forehead to the tips of your toes. then, silence seeps in—a moment only for you and him.

“i, uh, write,” you whisper as your eyes shift to the notebook resting on your lap.

“really? like, stories and poetry?”

you nod. “i like writing people’s stories more, but i do like making ones.” when you look back at changmin, his eyes are still filled with curiosity. “i would, like, find interviews online and try to make my own, sort of, uhm—god this is embarrassing. forget about it.”

“huh? no, it isn’t!” he attempts to reassure your shrunken figure. “i mean, you don’t have to share more if you really don’t want to, but i’d like to hear more about it.” and when his dimples appear, you almost can’t help but feel your face warm up.

“i’d make articles, i guess?” he nods along with your words. “i don’t know, it’s just interesting to hear about people’s lives and kind of create something out of it, and i like thinking about all the possibilities of who would love to hear them. like, don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?”

“that’s an interesting way to look at it.”

as you doodle on your notebook, you say, “yeah, it’s just fun to hear these stories and maybe create something out of it. or even think of stories that i could never live out, you know?” you expect yourself to be met with the bored face of changmin but his eyes remain on you.

“what if you interview me?”

your eyebrows shoot up. “you?”

“yeah,” he stands up before walking up to your row, finding a spot beside you. “think of me as your first interviewee if you want.”

the sudden suggestion has you stumbling over your words. “huh? b—but, i don’t have questions prepared. and how does this help our project?” 

when his arms brush against yours, you start to become aware of the distance between your shoulders—and his face from yours. warmth spreads throughout your body, almost like you’re about to have a fever. once his open hand rests near yours, you don’t know what he’s asking.

“let me draw it out for you.” you hand him your pencil and notebook, allowing him to see your doodles. (you don’t miss his grin.) “you know, with that article you make, we can cut it up and create something out of it.” a roughly drawn sketch of a boy posed in the middle of a dance move now rests on the page. “i don’t know if a collage would be okay.”

as you think about what can be done, you perch your chin on your palm. “we can do papercut art? basically, it’s cutting up the article in a way to form an image.”

“oh, that sounds cool!”

“yeah, but the only challenge is that we can only use one piece of paper.” a sigh leaves you. “it would be impossible for me to even do that.”

“that’s why you have me.” his small smile causes wind chimes to ring. (you’re positive you heard them, even if there were no such things in the gymnasium.)

he continues to sketch out the layout of your joint artwork. “how do we feel about this?” on the paper, there are two boxes beside the figure, where one is labeled as “photo of me” while the other is labeled “an article by y/n.” your head tilts. “it’ll be a three-set piece. so, it’ll be a photo of me and your article, and in between is the papercut art that we’ll make.”

you hum. “you know, you’re very creative.” you look at him only to see that he’s been staring at you. “like, you’re inclined to the arts. i wouldn’t have been able to think of something like this.”

“you’re just as creative,” he argues back as he writes down something.

you shake your head before retorting, “changmin, you’re very talented. i’ve seen the way you dance,” his movements halt, “and you’re like no other dancer i’ve seen. if you ever try out to be an idol, i’m sure you’d do great, maybe end up on the list of the best dancers in the industry.”

but he shakes his head, going back to writing on your notebook and shutting down your compliments. you decide to not push.

“i can get the photo sometime during my training,” he says as he hands you your notebook.

“then i can have the questions sometime this week. for the article, i can have it done maybe four days after the interview. how does wednesday, after school, sound for the interview?”

he shoots you a smile before standing up from his seat. “that’s perfect! i’m looking forward to meeting journalist y/n.” you can’t help but scoff at what he calls you. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head. “it’s just a silly name.” because the reality is that you had your future planned out—and it definitely didn’t involve that field.

he shrugs. “i don’t know, i think it would fit you.”

“but you haven’t read any of my works.”

“but i want to root for you in the same way you do for me. i don’t want you to feel ashamed of your works.” a fire ignites in your heart; it’s a fireplace.

you’re baffled that changmin, out of all people, now holds your secret, but you’re even astounded over the idea of him supporting you. you almost can’t remember the last time you heard such words of support. is it genuine or nothing but a facade?

“anyway, i’ve got to go. i need to catch up on some homework.” while you shoot him a nod, his dimples make their appearance once more. “i’ll see you tomorrow!” as he takes off, you’re left in the gymnasium with your opened notebook and unlocked heart. you look back down at his sketch surrounded by your doodles, but you don’t miss his little note—cute doodles btw <3

the season of spring has unfolded in cheongju; a single lilac has bloomed.

present -> a day before the interview, 2024

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you���ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was something home cooked. something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stock up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob dashes away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

changmin’s fingers tense up, almost as if he was hesitating—debating—on how to approach you. his body would waver, but he never took a step towards you. “i… i wasn’t expecting to meet you here.” 

“same here.” you lean your back against the checkout counter. “d—do you stay around this part of the city?”

he shakes his head. “i live around 15, maybe 20, minutes away from here. i’m only here because…” your breath gets caught in your throat. “i don’t know.”

fate. that’s what brought us here.

“do you live here?”

you nod. “yeah, ever since—” the sentence never gets completed; you and him already know.

for a moment, sorrow flashes in his eyes, but a smile shows up. the dimples don’t appear. “i, uh, i was going to get something from here but it seems like your friend is busy.”

“sorry about jongseob.” you whip out your phone and scold him through text. “he should be with us in a bit.”

changmin hums before walking to the freezer filled with different ice cream. as he looks through the selection, he asks, “do you still like twin bar?”

“y—yeah.”

“still the grape flavor?” you don’t know what to say, but when his gaze meets yours, you settle for a nod. with your favorite ice cream in one hand and a sandwich in the other, he finally walks towards you. you don’t miss the slight stagger in his steps.

changmin finds his spot beside you. there’s still distance between you two—two tiles worth, enough space for one person—but it’s enough for your muscles to freeze. thankfully, jongseob comes just in time to manage the cashier (with an awkward smile plastered on).

he scans changmin’s item first before grabbing onto your ice cream.

“oh, i’m paying—”

“no, let me,” changmin insists. “you can always treat me another time.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking over the second half of his sentence. jongseob holds back from scanning the item, until you shoot him a nod. changmin pays for the food before jongseob hands them to you.

“i’ll just let you know when the pizza gets here.” his small smile is enough for your shoulders to ease and a quiet exhale to leave. a small nod is all you give him.

you follow changmin outside to the tables in front of the mart. once he’s settled on a spot, you sit across from him. he tears away the plastic wrapping of his food while you play with the ends of yours. 

while he swallows what you assume to be his dinner of the day, you’re left to swallow your own pride.

“i’ve seen your performances.” his chews halt. “you’re—” captivating. “you’ve improved a lot.”  

with one gulp, a shy smile takes over his face. “i still have a long way to go.”

“you always say that, even back then.” a half bitten sandwich now rests on the wrapper. “but i admire your drive.” always have.

while a different version of changmin sits across you, the one you knew back in cheongju still lives. in the busy, unfamiliar expanse of seoul, meeting 10 years later, he’ll never be stranger. you could never treat him as such, even if you wanted to.

“there’s always room for improvement,” he says.

you hum along with his sentiment. “did you stick with early childhood education?” you’re met with his orbs that hold a thousand of emotions, some you can name as shock, confusion. a question hangs in the air—what did you deserve to know?

“sorry, i’m assuming you still went to college, which is totally fine if you did or didn’t, by the way. and it’s also okay if you didn’t stick to your major. i mean, you always talked about pursuing a performing arts degree before—”

“y/n,” he giggles, “you’re okay. i still went to college but i took media & communication.” your eyebrows shoot up at the revelation. “i thought it made sense to study something related to what i do, just the more technical and theoretical side of it, i guess. and the online classes were easy to squeeze into my schedule.” he lifts up the sandwich. “what about you?”

“uh, i ended up in the same course as well.” a hum of shock leaves changmin. “yeah,” you chuckle, “i managed to shift courses.”

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you.”

you smile at him. “thanks. now, i’m just—” you should tell him what you do. what would be a better time to reveal that you ended up in the path he dreamed for you to be than now? “—figuring things out.”

with your vagueness, changmin only nods before munching away. if there’s anything about you that still remains, it’s that you shouldn’t be pushed to share something you didn’t want to talk about. he still knew that.

as he finishes his sandwich, you tear off the plastic wrapping of your ice cream. with the twin bar in your hands, you snap it into two before you hand him a piece. confusion paints his features, wide eyes glossing over the popsicle in your hand, but he takes it before you can say anything.

“thanks.”

you shake your head. “don’t even worry about it. it’s only tradition.”

silence settles between you two. as you eat away on your share of the twin bar, you look up to the sky. from where you sit, you can’t see a single star; the lights of seoul seemed to outshine them. and during those moments, you almost can’t help but miss the view of the starry night from your childhood room.

you glance at changmin who looks up to the sky as well. yet, one hand remains in his pocket, almost as if he’s fiddling with something. 

as if he feels your eyes on him, he asks, “did you ever think about coming back?”

you halt your movements. if there’s one thing you were expecting your old friend to ask, it would be related to your sudden departure. but you’re hit with an entirely different question, one you didn’t get to rehearse the answer to in case you ever cross paths with him. 

because after all this talk about your yearning for cheongju, why didn’t you choose to visit? despite how much you long mr. kim’s home cooked meals, skies filled with stars, or the presence of your best friend, why didn’t you ever come back?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

and the reality is that you do think about it all the time. since you left cheongju, you drafted out how many plans to go back. you were homesick, missing the familiar landscape you spent your entire childhood growing up in. but most of all, you missed changmin. as long as you had him, you would survive anywhere, whether in seoul or cheongju.

despite how much you yearned for him during your years away, you learned that your relationship wasn’t always filled with the warmth that would grace you two every afternoon. for so long, you’ve sat with jealousy. while his family was his pillar of strength, you were met with a home that offered nothing but criticism.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

it became easier to remain resentful. with the distance, you weren’t faced with changmin’s genuineness. yet, with time, you discovered that you still cared for him—regardless of your jealousy—because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

for a long time, you resented. now, it’s only guilt that held you back from going back to him.

so when you remain silent, changmin takes it as your answer.

and for the first time, the distance feels greater since you first left cheongju.

summer of 2014

it’s the peak of summer. amidst the expanse of verdant fields, bees seek solace in the fully-bloomed sunflowers and kaleidoscope wings illuminate as they soar.

but summer is where mouths go dry and clothes cling to skin. as days blend with each other, the comfort of your bed is all you have until the season passes.

the fan rumbles against the wooden floor, doing its best to cool you, but the heat prickles against the back of your neck. the wind has turned into nothing but hot waves. with your elbows perched on the desk, a sigh leaves you as you attempt to make sense of the worksheet filled with math equations.

your room is your favorite place in cheongju. within these four walls are scattered fragments of you, from your favorite books and mangas that rest on the bookshelf to the stuffed toys that rest on your bed. book tabs stick out of your workbooks lined up on your desk and your cork board is filled with crossed out to-do lists.

and every once in a while, you would look out through your window, admiring the neighboring houses and all their greenery. as people walk on pavements, you cannot help but think about where they’re off to—are they on their way to work? did they leave an important document back home? or are they coming back to a meal and home filled with warmth?

despite the halo soundtrack filling your ears, the cogs in your brain seem to drown them out. the numbers on your paper have jumbled up. it should’ve been easy. after all, you’ve become friends with the letters who’ve squeezed their way into math. once you’ve wrapped up on this assignment, you know you’ll wake up to another set of work to do. it didn’t help that you’re stuck watching kids your age enjoy their break.

with a tired mind, you consider making yourself another cup of iced coffee. maybe another dose of caffeine will make sense of the numbers—

your phone buzzes against your table. as your eyes rip from the unfinished worksheet, you spot the familiar name flashing on the screen. with one glance at your door, you bring your headphones to rest around your neck. it takes three rings for you to answer.

“what do you want?”

“the fuck? what’s wrong with you?”

you roll your eyes as you fiddle with your pen. “i’m studying, you fucker.”

“on a sunday?” changmin’s question has you only groan. “what happened to resting?”

“i wish,” you murmur as you scratch the back of your head. “i’ve been stuck on this stupid worksheet for the past hours. it’s annoying too. i mean, i already know this topic, so i don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“awe, is my best friend suffering over kumon?”

your forehead rests on crossed arms. “yes. i think i’m going to die.”

“okay, then. i’ll take that as my sign.”

“sign to what?”

he chuckles as if it were obvious. “to save you! let’s go to mr. kim’s.”

a groan leaves you as your back meets the chair. “no, i can’t. do you know what would happen if i don’t finish my kumon?”

“uh… no?”

“me, neither. i’m not taking my chances.”

“but, you’re not even doing anything!” changmin pointing out the obvious has you rolling your eyes. “wouldn’t it be better to take a break with your best friend? i can even help out.”

as you bite the inside of your cheek, you glance once more at your closed door. you weigh it out; would you rather take a break with your best friend or would you save yourself from the consequences brought by home?

but the answer was already clear. “give me 10 minutes.”

changmin laughs before you drop the call.

it’s the smell of fresh hotteok that greets you. the quiet buzzing of the fan accompanied by mr. kim’s favorite trot music fills your ears. while the owner seems to be away from the cashier, a white, stray cat takes over, body flopped on the counter as it snores away the heat. as the sun pours through windows, coating every corner of the mart with a glow of fireflies, you know this will be a place of its own.

“y/n, over here!” a familiar voice calls out. as you whip your head to the source, you see your best friend by the chest freezer, eyes crinkled and all dimples.

now, you’re certain that nothing could ever replicate this.

you walk towards changmin, finding your spot beside him as you two look through the collection of frozen treats. “so, what do you want from here?” you ask.

“uh… i’ll be honest, i just realized i’m short on money.”

you glance through the price tags, only for a groan to leave you. “i’m short too. when did mr. kim raise the prices?”

“no clue. i thought i’d have enough to get a summer crush,” changmin complains as his eyes are glued to the coffee sorbet. “i hate inflation.”

“come on.” you fish out for the coins in your pocket. “let’s see how much we have together.” changmin does the same. with palms out, you two count through your shared funds.

“we can get a summer crush!”

“you can get one. i’ll be left with barely anything.” you look through the selection once more. “man, i really want samanco. the red bean sounds so good right now.”

defeat casts over changmin’s features. for a moment, you almost consider giving up on having a frozen treat and settling for a glass bottle of orange soda, until you spot a familiar popsicle brand.

“holy shit, it’s right there.”

“what?”

“there!” your finger points at the stack of twin bars. “we can probably get that and split it.”

changmin’s expression morphs into realization. “okay, let’s get—”

“dibs on grape.”

“dibs?” he furrows his eyebrows at you. “you can’t just call dibs. you’re doing it wrong. clearly, we should discuss—”

“nope,” you retort. a chuckle laced with disbelief leaves your best friend. to him, it seemed like you were joking around. “i made the suggestion and contributed a lot more to our shared funds.”

“okay, but—”

“don’t tell me you want the peach flavor more than the grape.” as you continue to shut him down, he knows there’s no way around you.

(plus, he wasn’t a fan of peach-flavored things, anyway. how unfortunate that mr. kim only has those two flavors right now.)

“next time, we’re choosing a flavor that i want,” he gives in. you let out a cheer before grabbing the frozen treat.

you two make your way back to the cashier and spot mr. kim slouched in front of the television, hand stroking the sleepy feline. he’s still wearing an old, red plaid apron on top of a pair of basketball shorts and a loose graphic tee which had the name of a band you’re unfamiliar with. with how he sits, you’re afraid that his back problems will get even worse. (still, you don’t say anything. he’ll only play it off and say he’s still one of the “youngins”... whatever that means.)

once his eyes land on you two, a grin takes over. “ah, my favorite kids! it’s nice to see you both.”

“yeah, it’s been a while,” changmin starts off. “y/n’s always busy with kumon.”

you narrow your eyes at the boy. “hey! you’re busy, too! you’ve been practicing at the studio almost every day!” the wrapped popsicle now rests on the counter. “every time i’m free, you’re not.”

“hey! whenever you’re free, i’m tired from training!”

“okay, let’s settle down,” mr. kim breaks up the banter. he then takes note of the ice cream on the cashier, the price showing up on the cashier. “isn’t the heat hard enough for you two to be studying or practicing?”

“yes, very much.” you count the coins once more before dropping the exact amount on the counter. “but,” you glance at changmin and his disheartened expression is enough for mountains to move, “i don’t think we have a choice.”

in reality, these were the circumstances you two had to work and live with. during the days changmin ended practice early, you were drowning in summer school assessments. whenever you managed to finish your homework, it would be during the hours your best friend was off at the studio or passed out at home from exhaustion.

“choice, no choice, people always say that.” mr. kim counts your payment before putting it into the cashier. as he takes note of what you’ve bought, he says, “everyone has a choice. i’m sure you two can figure it out.”

the only difference is that one chose this path; the other had to suffer from the decision forced onto them.

“don’t worry, mr. kim,” changmin nudges your shoulder. “i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” and when the dips in his cheeks appear, you find yourself smiling back.

maybe you were okay with the life you had to live, just maybe.

“anyway, we’ll go ahead,” changmin bids farewell to mr. kim.

you giggle. “he means we’re just going to eat our ice cream at the front.”

as you two slowly make your way out of the mart, mr. kim shakes his head. “you lovebirds go ahead. i’ll see you next time!”

“mr. kim!” you and changmin shout in unison before glancing at each other.

“what?!”

your best friend groans. “you know we aren’t together.”

“yeah! like, i can’t imagine it,” you join in.

still, the owner laughs at your reactions. “you two are so funny. just go and enjoy your ice cream.”

you roll your eyes at his words. “bye, mr. kim!”

with that, you and changmin were out of the mart and took a seat on the benches. you hand your best friend the wrapped frozen treat before letting out a sigh. “i still can’t believe this is one of the few times we got to meet up during the break.”

“i know.” he tears the plastic wrapping off. “you would think that summer break would mean we get to hang out nonstop, but i’m starting to think we saw each other more whenever we had school.”

you hum. “i know. and i had ap stat while you had training.” your eyes dart at changmin who grips onto the popsicle sticks, struggling to split it into two. “oh my god, don’t tell me you can’t split it.”

“hey! it’s hard.”

as you giggle, you reach your hand out. “let me do it.” once changmin hands you the twin bar, you attempt to split the two. for a moment, you almost think about agreeing with him. yet, the frozen treat splits into two perfectly, and a satisfied smile rests on your lips.

you hand him one popsicle, only to be met with his glare. “i know, i’m just better.”

“just shut up.” to that, another laugh leaves you.

under the sun, you enjoy the coolness of the twin bar. while you would’ve stared off to nowhere, you and changmin were here at the right time to catch civilians bustling away. some were on dates, where one would go on about their interest while the other would smile at their rambling. there were kids whose chatter could be heard all the way from the end of the block, and blue-collar men who were off to enjoy their break.

you can’t help but imagine what people saw—thought—of you and changmin. did they think of you as unexpected friends? has it ever crossed their minds that you two were only classmates who seemed to always be paired together? or did they ever think the same as mr. kim?

“you know,” changmin starts off, causing you to look at him, “i was going through college courses the other day.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “oh?”

with your reaction, changmin giggles. “i was just curious, you know? not that i’m giving up on dance or anything, but,” he licks the popsicle, “early childhood education sounds cool.”

you hum. “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“no, it’s not a bad thing!” you reassure the boy. “it’s just,” you rip your gaze off of changmin and look at the playground, “i always thought of you as a dancer, you know? kind of like you were meant for the stage.” the laughter of the kids who passed by you two bounces all over the block and you can’t help but smile. “but i don’t doubt it.”

the breeze graces your sweat-covered skin. “what about you?” you look back at him. “would you ever consider journalism? maybe communication as your major?”

you’re quick to laugh at his suggestion, but when confusion paints his features, you realize it’s a serious question from him.

“no.” it’s a straightforward answer from you, but changmin could never settle with that

“why not?”

a sigh leaves you. “i just don’t consider it. i mean, i think about it,” all the time, “but not enough to consider it. plus, astrophysics is cool.”

“but is it your dream?”

changmin’s question is an easy one to answer—not at all. you’ve had enough learning about theories and making sense of the numbers. if your future is going to only complicate that further, then maybe astrophysics isn’t made for you. 

but who’s to say that you’ll even enjoy journalism?

“we’ll see.” you leave it at that and changmin didn’t push for more.

because the reality is that if you ever did consider it, transform those dreams into action plans, you were terrified to be met with your parents’ disappointment—it wouldn’t only be from your lousy desires but from changmin’s role in your life.

the first time you mentioned changmin to your parents happened over dinner, letting them know you would be staying later at school to work on the final project for art class with him. they didn’t bat an eye at his name as they continued to talk about what happened during work and pester you about your progress in other classes. (art class didn’t matter to them, only the sciences and math were ones they seemed to track. still, they would criticize you if you didn’t place first honors.)

with your parents’ oversight, something blossomed between you and changmin. from there, there were more days you would get home later than usual. while you were still on top of your work, they took your late arrivals as a form of negligence.

all it took was one night for them to demand an explanation. the reappearance of him in the conversation had only caused them to reprimand you—changmin’s not like you. he’ll only hold you back. 

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

“how’s training?” you change the subject, trying to keep the attention off of your failed dreams to changmin’s flourishing ones.

“well, it’s a lot,” he chuckles as he munches a piece. “you already know that it takes how many hours to get to the company, and the hours i spend in the practice room are unlike the trainings i have at school.”

as his eyes meet yours, you only shoot him an apologetic smile. it was never going to be easy; you two knew that before changmin entered the doors of the company. yet, he still held on.

“you know, i never considered it before, but i like where i’m going,” he admits. “even if i’ve always had dreams to pursue dance, i want to make my family proud if i ever get to debut.” 

changmin knows how to persevere. regardless of all the bruises he gets from performing complex dance routines or the hours of sleep he longs for, he knows how to hold on. you wish you could say the same for yourself.

“and you will,” you reassure the boy, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “who wouldn’t be proud of you?”

he holds your stare and your smile falters. for a moment, you don’t know if you touched on a sensitive topic. would he shrug your arm off? do you think he’ll shut you off, maybe cut your time together short? will changmin get mad at you for something you didn’t know was wrong? would he be just like them?

“i want to make you proud.”

that’s enough to answer it all.

you shake your head. “don’t even doubt that for a second.” your arm finds it spot back to your side, and changmin’s loops his with yours.

although he knows how to persevere, he never knows when to shut his ears from the shadows. 

“i am proud of you,” you tell him. “always have, always will.” he can’t help but smile. all you can hope is that he’ll listen closely to your voice.

“i almost forgot,” he says out of nowhere.

“forgot what?”

as he tugs his arm away, his hand fishes for something in his pocket. “close your eyes.” you furrow your eyebrows. “just do it!” you follow his orders. “and keep them closed, okay?” you let out a hum.

before you know it, something wraps around your index finger. you would’ve opened your eyes, confused over the foreign yet familiar material, but they remain shut. 

“okay, open.”

your gaze rests on your finger wrapped in yellow and blue. it’s a finger trap—and the other end is connected to changmin. despite your tug, it still holds you two together.

it’s the warmth that fills your cheeks, the heartbeat in your ears, and your starstruck eyes that has him smile. “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? regardless of what paths we end up pursuing. all that matters is that we have each other.”

he’s filled with hope. hope for his dreams. hope for your relationship. hope for what the future holds for you two. you can’t help but hope as well.

all it takes is a nod from you to solidify the promise to the universe.

you two sit in silence, finishing up the popsicles as people continue to pass by. at one point, you heard mr. kim let out a curse over the drama he’s watching. the sun is about to set, wrapping you two in a golden blanket, and all that matters is the finger trap.

present  -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

it’s no surprise to you that the newsroom is quiet. while your peers are off to gather more information, you’re with lee chaeyeon of news as she tries to meet the deadline for her article’s first close.

“do you think dokyeom will be late?” you ask as you watch her rephrase sentences.

she laughs. “when is he never? minho’s always assigning him coverages.”

“that’s true.” your eyes drift to the hallway. “i’m just hungry. he still owes me food, you know?”

“over another bet? or you saving his ass?”

“over helping him with an article,” you reveal, earning a shocked look from her. “for some odd reason, he needed another writer to help out with a live coverage, and all the sports writers and sports editor were busy handling the other events.”

“holy shit.” chaeyeon continues with her work. “i didn’t expect you to work on anything sports-related.”

“yeah, but it helped that it was a dance competition. at least i know something about dance.” you only know who to thank. “i’m going to make sure i get compensated for that. i’m planning to raise it to minho and namjoon, anyway. that’s if dokyeom would fucking come and help in explaining the situation.”

with the mention of the tardy writer’s name, he’s scrambling through the halls with his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other. the moment he sees you, he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“speak of the devil,” you say as you stand up straight. “why do you always show up late? i helped you with the article.”

dokyeom finds his spot beside you as he sets down the bag on your desk. “i’ll have you know that wasn’t the only article i had yesterday. i was catching up on other ones that minho assigned me.” before he can plop down on his seat, he spots chaeyeon working. “damn, tough life at news.”

“no need to point out the obvious, doofus.”

“wow, harsh,” he replies to her insult. “just so you know, i bought food for us.”

“thank god,” you exclaim as you open the paper bag filled with takeout containers and sealed cups. as you pull them out one by one, you spot your usual order from the vietnamese restaurant around the corner. “oh my god, thank you for getting me this.” you take a seat before you pass dokyeom his food and utensils.

“yeah, i know. i’m just the best.” his shower of compliments for himself only has you rolling your eyes. “but thank you, by the way, for helping me out with the article. i needed an extra pair of hands and my own editor couldn’t stand in to help out.”

“it’s fine. just make sure you help me get compensated for that article,” you say before you open the container. as the smell of bun bo nam bo fills your nose, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “holy fuck, i’ve been craving this.”

“i made sure to get you some vietnamese coffee also.”

“yeah, i saw. thank you.” you split the chopsticks with one hand. you’re about to mix the bowl of your favorite food—

“is y/n here?” your editor calls out, causing you to let out a sigh before you stand up from your seat.

“yes?”

namjoon’s gaze lands on you. “can i talk to you for a bit?”

despite your grumbling stomach, you give him a nod and set your food down. as he retreats to his office, you glare at dokyeom who munches away on goi cuon. “i hate you.”

“hey, what did i do?!” you ignore his attempts to defend himself as you make your way to your editor’s office.

once you swing the door open, you spot namjoon whose eyes are stuck to the screen. “you can take a seat,” he says with no attempt to look at you. you sit across from him, hands folded on your lap, while he types away on his keyboard.

the moment he hits the ‘enter’ key is when he finally looks at you. “sorry about that. i was just replying to minho regarding your compensation for the article you worked with dokyeom. we both appreciate what you did. next time though, make sure to loop in minho or me before you two start working on beats not within your staffs.”

“sorry about that,” you start off. “dokyeom only asked for my help and i thought it would be fine since i’m familiar with dance, anyway.”

namjoon shakes his head with a small smile plastered on his face. “it is fine, just make sure to inform us.” you only nod.

“anyway, i’m sorry to have this meeting with you right now but i have to leave work early today, and i thought that you’d appreciate that i tell this to you now instead of tomorrow,” he says. you hum, curious about what he has to say. “i have a coverage for you, a very, very, long one.”

over the sight of your wide eyes, he can’t help but chuckle. “it’s 12 articles,” he says and your mouth gapes over the number. “well, one main article and 11 profiles with very brief introductory paragraphs.” his attempt to ease your shocked state does nothing.

“namjoon, that’s… a lot.”

“yes, i know. i would love to split the workload but everyone else is handling other articles, and i trust you. i know i’m asking for a lot but i’ll make sure to help you out with them. it’s just that we’re working on a time crunch and i don’t know anyone else i can ask but you.”

the faith that your editor seems to have in you is like no other.

“profiles, like, those q&a transcripts?” you ask.

he nods before saying, “yes, and just a brief introductory paragraph for each profile. i’m just expecting you to put more work into the article about the group. i’ll make sure to help out with the profiles.”

namjoon’s trust should be anxiety inducing, enough to send you complaining, but you find yourself relieved. your mentor became your second-in-command; the mountain of workload transformed into a hill.

“okay.”

a relaxed smile appears on his face at your acceptance. “thank god! i was going to stress about this the whole day if you refused. i’ll make sure to send you the details about this once i’m done with my appointments, and then we can see how we’ll divide the work later on.” he types something. “we’re covering a k-pop group which is why there’s one main article about the whole group and then 11 profiles.”

“yeah, i figured that out.” this isn’t anything out of your usual articles. “can i ask who we’re interviewing? maybe i can do some research on them while you attend your meetings.” you pull out your phone, ready to search up whoever your editor says.

“don’t know if you’re familiar with them but they’re called the boyz?” you still in your seat. “wait, let me check. yes, that’s their name.”

“the boyz?”

namjoon looks at you, now met with your features that have transformed from wide eyes to scrunched eyebrows.  “yeah. do you know them?” 

you shake your head without a second thought. “no, i don’t think i do,” you whisper the last sentence to yourself. his narrow eyes look over you, almost dissecting you.

the walls surrounding you are painted in solid colors of pearl, almost untouched. yet, under the paint are cracks that spread like cobwebs. every burst is a testament to the earthquakes they’ve faced; no one should be able to see a single line of black amid the white sea. now, they’re filled with paste, and it should be enough to cover them all.

but for the first time, the paint has chipped and the paste has deteriorated; the different colors of cheongju seep through the cracks.

you clear your throat as you straighten your back. “i’ll be sure to research them.” you wave your phone at him, hoping to divert his attention, but his gaze remains on you.

a sigh leaves him. “okay. expect to receive the documents later in the afternoon.”

he doesn’t push any further. for now, the walls remain intact. (or appear as so.)

it was never going to be easy.

“honestly, i gave up expecting to win as we practiced,” the youngest says through tears. as they huddle, they let out silent wishes for the upcoming years. before they blow the candle, they don’t forget to express their gratitude to the fandom who stuck with them through thick and thin.

a time of celebration turned into a moment to remember their struggles. these were pockets of their time that marked their spot in history.

“oh, everyone behind us is crying!” another member points out as the camera captures the team’s bittersweet cries.

and when you catch sight of the orange-haired boy who hides his tears behind his friend, the ache in your chest starts to spread through your veins. the video cuts to his low-hanging head as his members comfort him. they knew all of his hardships—you only know a fraction.

such a tender moment happened five years ago; it’s the same amount of time between this achievement and your departure. within those years, what did changmin undergo? did his trainings waver his passion or did the fire burn just as bright as it did since he first auditioned? was he confident in his skills or was he still critical about every performance he had?

but most of all, what did he face? what did he learn? to hate? to love?

what did he go through without you?

you don’t forget to take note of their first win on your document filled with bullet points of information. while you were going to continue watching, a recommended video caught your attention. it’s a changmin focus. you don’t hesitate to click it.

the video starts off with him checking up on the fans before the performance starts. as he mimes out eating, they answer his question with reassurance.

and there they come—his dimples appear.

it transitions to their group in their opening formation. as they await for the song to play out, changmin’s familiar smile shifts into a dominant gaze.

in the same way the first notes draw people to listen, your eyes never leave the boy. his movements are fluid, like water droplets sliding off leaves. he commands the stage regardless of where he’s positioned.

changmin is meant to be on the stage—no, every stage is made for him. every crowd is meant to cheer his name and remain captive to his talents, and every spotlight is meant to shine on him.

you rest your chin on crossed arms. long gone was the bowl cut and loose school uniform. he’s grown. matured, even. yet, the moments where his smile appears makes you realize one thing: the 16-year-old boy you knew still lives within him.

as their performance comes to an end, you don’t bother to move your cursor, letting the next recommended video play. and when his vlog plays out, you realize that a fragment of his identity is a whole of what you know.

what an honor it is to have known him for even a fraction of your lifetime.

his voice is a lullaby, the same one you used to fall asleep to, so you allow yourself to close your eyes. you let go of the responsibilities for just this moment, and allow yourself to be transported back into the warmth of his arms.

fall of 2014

out of all the seasons, autumn took its spot in being your favorite. clusters of green slowly morph  into shades of oranges and browns. it’s a symphony of chirps that fills the silence. while the breeze brings you comfort after the heat of summer, it also reminds you of the looming winter.

it’s a shame that autumn does live up to its other name: a season of fall.

“you’re always like this,” your mother comments. you stand in front of your parents, slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, as they hold a sheet of paper they believe dictates your future. “always so sensitive. we’re just asking you what went different. why did your grades drop?” to them, a shift from a to b+ is a threat to your future. 

while your feet stand on wooden floors, a flood starts to form. murky waves crash against your legs, but you do your best to keep your balance.

“answer us when you’re being talked to.” your father snaps you out of your thoughts. “what have you been doing for your grades to drop?” you want to answer but a single sound that leaves you may only lead to blubbers that your parents will scold you for. 

with your silence, your mother sneers. “i knew we shouldn’t have let you do your own things. i told you so.” she shifts her gaze to him. “what did i tell you about y/n? you know they’ll only slack off!”

“i thought we could trust them. clearly, i was wrong.” your father’s glare raises the water levels, reaching your chest. you don’t know how to swim in the foggy ocean.

“i know why.” she crosses her arms. “it’s because of that changmin boy, isn’t it?” she says his name laced with disgust.

you don’t think twice to defend him. “no, it isn’t!”

“don’t you dare talk back at me!”

“but i’m not! he’s done nothing.”

your father begins to raise his voice. “and that’s what’s wrong! that lazy boy does nothing for his studies. he clearly doesn’t care about his future.”

you always knew it would be a losing battle, but you’ll put up the fight to protect your best friend’s name. “that’s not true! he does care. he’s planning to do early childhood education for college, maybe become a teacher.”

“that job has no money. see, i can already see that you’re being influenced by him,” he argues back.

and as the murky waters rise, filling your lungs, your first instinct is to close your eyes and scream. “stop saying that about him!”

a beat passes.

“i don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“but—”

“shut up.” your mother’s words cause you to look up, meeting your parents’ faces filled with anger.  “go to your room. now.” you’re nothing but a puppet for them.

was it even a battle if you always knew you were going to lose?

despite the safety of your room, you don’t let the tears flow down. you do anything to distract yourself; maybe a book will convince you that your life is only a figment of your imagination.

waves continue to crash against your body. if you let them take your body, would they send you far away from cheongju? from your parents? from the weight you were entrusted to carry since birth?

but would you allow the waves to send you away from changmin?

your phone buzzes against the mattress. with tear-filled eyes, you see your best friend trying to reach you. you don’t think twice about declining his call and shutting off your phone.

as you curl in your bed, you hope the sea will swallow you whole—the slow, burning pain that comes with drowning won’t compare to the burns that haven’t healed. but you know that the blame rests on your shoulders. if only you had studied harder, cut off hours of rest for your work, then maybe you would be the perfect child your parents wanted.

were you wrong for allowing yourself to enjoy the small breaks between classes? was the time spent in the mart supposed to be for schoolwork? should you have found yourself a tutor? were you in the wrong for not working yourself to the bone? did you not work enough?

are you not enough?

then, a knock. your eyes snap open. like a stroke of light in the middle of the dark, changmin is by your window.

you get off your bed to open the window. as the glass barrier disappears, he enters your room. “are you okay?” he spots your glassy eyes and his hands find their spot on your shoulders. “what happened?”

you break eye contact. “what do you want, changmin?”

“you didn’t pick up your phone. and when i tried calling again, i couldn’t reach you,” he starts to explain.

you shrug off his grip on you before you take a seat on your bed. “i’m fine. my phone died.” as you feel the spot beside you dip, you look at your best friend. at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, you know he doesn’t believe you. “i said i’m fine.”

“i didn’t say anything.” for you are an open book to him.

he opens his arms towards you—it’s your move to make. then, a tight-lipped smile shows on his face, his dimples appear, and you allow yourself to fall. with his arms wrapped around you, you shut your eyes as you nestle your face into his neck.

breathe in. breathe out.

his hand finds its spot on your back, rubbing it in circles.

breathe in. breathe out.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” he says, and you allow yourself to crumble in front of him for the first time.

the tears hit changmin’s neck like a light drizzle. your wails bring earthquakes into his world.

yet, his warmth is enough to dry up droplets, and his embrace protects you as you fall into the cracks of the earth and into the depths of the world. the flood starts to subside.

in your time knowing changmin, how much did he know about you after all? had he always known of your strained relationship with your parents? did he hear about it from others or was he able to connect the dots?

because you didn’t know yourself outside of your parents anymore. did you like science because of your kumon classes? was your interest in writing birthed from a desire for validation from your parents?

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

but your parents will never be satisfied; a standard too high is practically nonexistent.

changmin moves so that you two can lie down. his arms remain wrapped around you as you hide in his neck. “i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you when you needed it then.” his whispered apology causes you to shake your head.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you blubber out to his neck.

“and you didn’t, as well.” his hand finds its spot behind your head. with every stroke, a tear streams down. “and i want you to know that i’ll be here for you.”

in your house, your room was the only space you called home. solace built by you. 

now, your home is changmin.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

something about the newsroom feels odd to you. there’s nothing out of the ordinary aside from it bustling with journalists. the familiar sounds of printers and chatter from your workmates fill your ears. it’s a typical occurrence for your peers to meet their deadlines on the day itself. the tug in your gut doesn’t resemble ones formed out of your anxiety. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“where is dokyeom? i swear, this guy never shows up to the office.”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at chaeyeon who browses through her phone. as you shove a bill into the vending machine, a chuckle leaves you. “when is he never?”

“maybe if he finishes his coverages on time then he’d be getting enough sleep. then, he won’t be late.”

you side-eye your friend before you click on a button. “you know that’s not true.”

she sighs at the same time your bottle of iced tea drops. “yeah. apparently, if you have free time, you’re not a good journalist or some shit which i find stupid.” you grab your drink before facing her. “am i not allowed to do something else that’s not related to my job? i swear, this is why i’m single.”

“then date another journalist.” your joke earns a scowl from her.

“i’m never dating anyone in my field. a journalist dating another journalist is like,” she looks up to the ceiling as she thinks, “a long distance relationship with how much they’ll never see or have time for each other.”

a laugh erupts from you, one that may be too loud for your liking. “true.”

as you walk out of the breakroom with chaeyeon, you notice something in the corner of your eye: a brunette by the restroom. while you can’t see his face, you spot what’s in his hand and you halt in your tracks—a finger trap.

“hey, is there someone there?” your eyes snap back to your friend who looks at you in confusion. when your eyes drift back to where the brunette once was, he’s already gone. you shake your head before walking back to your desk.

the same gut feeling lingers. with a frown, you open up your article only to be met with a few comments that namjoon left last night. maybe your gut knew that you weren’t done with your work. thankfully, it’s nothing too major, and you can have them done within the next few minutes.

“there you are!” chaeyeon exclaims, causing you to look up from your screen to a panting dokyeom. “were you working on your articles again?”

“actually, i went out last night.” while you shake your head at dokyeom’s reveal, chaeyeon gasps. “yeah, i did! i actually had fun for once!”

as he nods proudly at last night’s events, she complains, “are you serious?! how come you have time to go out? i was just talking to y/n that we never have time to ourselves.”

“i’m in sports,” he points out as he shrugs his shoulders. “you’re in news.” at this point, you’re expecting the two to spiral into an argument, so you redirect your focus back to your article.

“hey, did you hear though? there’s a k-pop group in the building.” you glance at chaeyeon.

your other friend leans on the cubicle. “really? who?”

“no clue.”

dokyeom lets out a groan. “what type of journalist are you if you can’t find out?”

“yah!” chaeyeon smacks his arm, causing him to wince in pain. “says you who can never submit on time.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that minho has been understanding!”

“whatever.” she rolls her eyes before looking at you. “that means you’ll probably be handling them. i hope they’re cute so that you can finally have something going on with your life outside of work.”

a chuckle leaves you as you get back to work. “i’m never dating an idol. i’d get hunted down by their fans.” 

“yeah, but can’t you dream a little? do you ever imagine what it would be like?”

the past plays in your mind. after school performances and interviews. broken-up popsicles. finger traps. a life you shared with changmin then—one you still cling onto.

yet, you shake your head as you edit your article. “not even.”

it’s a life you’ll keep to yourself.

“what’s the update?”

the three of you look away from each other, spotting namjoon who comes to you with a smile. long gone were the sweaters that failed to drown out his figure and the boxy glasses that would rest on the bridge of his nose. now, he wears a dress shirt and trousers with hair slicked to the side. there were no frames for him to hide behind.

“ah, namjoon! you’re dressed so nice today.”

with dokyeom’s compliment, he can’t hold back on his smile. “thank you. are you guys done with your articles?”

as your friends nod, you add the finishing touches to the document. “and done! i just finished addressing your comments.”

“great. thanks, y/n.”

“do you have something?” chaeyeon asks your editor, causing you to roll your eyes. one thing about journalists is that they love to know everything.

namjoon nods before saying, “i just had a meeting with some possible interviewees.”

“is this the one with the k-pop group?” as dokyeom asks the question, you can’t help but laugh as chaeyeon looks at him in disbelief for spilling confidential information.

your editor chuckles. “yes.”

“can we know—”

“no, you can’t know.”

chaeyeon pouts at namjoon. “not even a hint?”

namjoon ignores her question and begins to walk off. “good work, y/n!” he calls out before leaving you three alone.

“man, namjoon never tells us shit,” chaeyeon complains as she leans on the table.

“to you guys, at least,” you argue with a small shrug.

still, the gut feeling remains.

something about the newsroom feels odd to changmin. while he’s had his fair share of paranormal experiences, his gut tells him that there’s something in the office. yet, the tug isn’t one that speaks of danger. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” changmin is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

sangyeon shoots namjoon a smile before looking at his members. “you guys can use the washroom if you need to.”

although everyone seemed fine with proceeding, changmin couldn’t shake off the feeling. maybe the leftover curry he had this morning went bad. “i’ll go,” he says as he gets off his seat.

namjoon slowly stands up. “okay, i can bring you there—”

“it’s okay! i saw the washroom on the way here,” changmin says before walking to the door. “you can discuss the details without me. i’m sure you guys will manage.”

with sangyeon’s and his manager’s nods, namjoon settles back into his seat. “okay then, here are some of the dates i have in mind...”

changmin exits the room. he bites on the inside of the cheek as he thinks of what his gut could be telling him. is it the nerves for the upcoming tour? is he worried about the next comeback they’ve been preparing? or is he scared about what the future has in store for his group?

with his mind on these questions, he doesn’t realize that he arrives in front of the bathroom door. a sigh of frustration leaves him. the worst thing about gut feelings is never knowing what they’re trying to say.

he grips the handle, ready to swing the door open, until a familiar laugh hits his ears. one of the past. one he hasn’t heard in years. his muscles freeze.

when was the last time he heard that chortle? when was the last time he became the cause of it?

his eyes dart around the area for the source but no one else is here. he can’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

it should be stupid for him to think you two would ever reunite. in what world would you be in the same place as he is? it’s been 10 years. you could be anywhere around the world. yet, he fishes for something out of his pocket; the same finger trap he linked you to him rests on the palm of his hand.

he sighs before entering the washroom and shoving it back into his pocket.

maybe he’ll hold out a little longer.

winter of 2014

out of all the seasons, changmin’s favorite is winter. snowflakes fall, filling the sky with stars that people can touch, and snow piles on sidewalks, letting him throw snowballs at his friends. despite the freezing temperatures, changmin prefers this over nearly-boiling ones.

he can’t wait to share this season with you.

yet, the familiar, chilly breeze of the season transforms into whispers, and word gets around like thrown snowballs. 

“is y/n really not going to school anymore?” changmin looks up from his desk to see cheng xiao standing in front of him. he tilts his head in confusion, causing her to roll her eyes. “are they not going here anymore?”

he frowns. “huh? what kind of rumor is that?”

“i don’t know. it’s what people have been saying,” she says as she crosses her arms. “i asked because i wanted to know if my competition’s gone, you know? and you’re the only one here who has an idea about their whereabouts.”

changmin laughs in disbelief. “no, i was with them last week.”

when changmin last saw you, you asked for space. with what’s been happening with your family, you needed time to process and cope with your issues, and he respected that. after all, he only knew a fraction of your relationship with your parents, and he didn’t want to intrude in anything you didn’t want him to be a part of. still, changmin reminded you that he’ll be there if you need him.

“damn, that sucks,” cheng xiao groans as her shoulders slump. “these stupid rumors.” as soon as she leaves changmin alone, he shakes his head.

the bell rings. students start rushing into classrooms and teachers scold those who aren’t on their seats. ms. jeon enters the room, walking to the desk in front and setting her things down. “cheng xiao, you’ll be in charge of attendance today.”

as changmin’s classmate gets off her seat, he can’t help but look at your desk that still remains empty.

“you have to message us when you land,” your mother says as she fixes the collar of your coat. despite your nod, she clicks her tongue. “answer me properly.”

“yes, i will.”

once your father finishes placing the last luggage in the trunk of the taxi, he stands beside your mother. “don’t forget why we’re sending you there. we expect you to do better with no distractions.”

your phone buzzes in your hand. as you look down, you see a message from changmin. as he asks about your whereabouts, the weight gets heavier—will you stand or crumble under it?

“who’s that?”

you stash your phone away as you look back at your parents. “nothing. it’s just an email from the school. they sent over the date for the orientation.” at the sight of their satisfied smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“well, go on.” your nod at your mother before getting in the car. with the windows still down, she adds, “don’t forget to get endorsement letters from the professors i sent over to you or else you won’t get to study abroad like we planned.” her choice of pronouns is funny; a plan that they crafted which never considered your input.

“okay.”

as your father commands the driver to go, your gaze remains on the two. it should be okay with you to leave cheongju; you’d be far away from your parents and experience an entirely different landscape to explore. it’s time you break away from the chains of this town. learn a life outside of what your parents forced you into.

yet, as the car takes its leave, the figure of your parents slowly shrinks. the distance from them should’ve given you the space to breathe, a relief you’ve longed for, but it only reminds you of your strained relationship. to them, it would be better that you’re out of their sight—and with your farewell, you never heard the three-word phrase.

the window rolls up. you try to hold back the tears, but the scenery of cheongju that you pass by births a storm within you. you didn’t want to say goodbye to home, regardless of how much you say you didn’t have a home in this town. every corner holds a piece of you in the same way you hold a piece of them.

the car approaches a safe haven you share. despite the snow that piles at the front, mr. kim’s convenience store is still open. you’ll never get to have his hotteok again or hear his favorite dramas play in the background. worst of all, you never got to say goodbye.

then, the familiar figure of your best friend exits the mart, and the storm transforms into a typhoon. the plastic bag he holds is filled with your favorite snacks, from the grape-flavored twin bar to a bottle of mr. kim’s homemade peach iced tea.

and in that moment that your car passes him, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you spot the familiar trap wrapped around his finger—the other end holds no one.

as quickly as you came into changmin’s life, he disappears from your view.

finger traps were fascinating. if you tug hard, the contraption won’t let your fingers go. yet, if you allow the two fingers to meet, allowing the toy to loosen, it’ll let you go with no harm.

but your finger trap with changmin was different. maybe it was already ripped to its seams.

interview

q: what made you decide on becoming an idol?

a: i’ve always loved dancing. growing up in cheongju, i always made time [for dance] whether it be [for] school competitions, talent shows, or even [choreographies] i wanted to try out. but i never considered becoming [an idol] until high school. a lot of my friends and family thought i was capable, and i’m glad they trusted me. it feels good to give back to them with every performance.

q: as the first trainee meant to debut in the boyz, you’ve spent more time training compared to your other members. what kept you going throughout your years of training?

a: my family’s support was one big thing that helped me [during my training.] every trip from my house to the company would last hours, and it drained me physically. so as the years went by, i started to question if all the time, money, [and] effort i was putting into an unpromised debut would be worth it, but my parents and sisters were always there to support and [take] care of me. but i’d also like to think my best friend was a major support in training years. i think they were the first one to [tell me that they saw me as an idol,] and at the time i brushed off the idea. but, look where i am now? so i think i owe a lot to them.

q: is there anything you’d like to say to those who’ve supported you as the boyz’s q?

a: mom and dad, thank you for believing in me. i know it wasn’t easy to wait until midnight for me to come home or take care of me whenever i got sick from training. thank you for always supporting me in every performance. to my sisters, thank you for helping mom and dad out at home. every day, i remind myself that you gave up so much just so i can pursue my dreams, and i want you know that i’m forever grateful for your sacrifices. to the rest of [the boyz], thank you for always allowing me to rely on you. i’m glad i can say i have brothers who i get to achieve my dreams with. deobi, thank you for your love and support over the years. i wouldn’t be the boyz’s q or ji changmin if it weren’t for you. and lastly, thank you to my best friend. i hope you’ll always be proud of me the same way i’ll forever be proud of you.

tag list: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @dearly-somber

[sorencd]

could you write something about reader being scared of wilson cheating on her but then he conforts her? cuz with the history of cheating that he has i would be scared lmao

SANCTUARY

a/n : thank u sm for the req! i love me some good old comfort w wilson. i don't know how this turned into 1.4k i told myself i would keep it short lol. reader is a doctor btw! and charlotte is the name i gave ur friend :)

w.c. : 1.4k

"dude, are you okay?"

your friend's sudden voice that came out of nowhere brought you back from your mindless gazing, you didn't even notice that you were absent-mindedly staring off into space. a few patients got scared because they thought you were judging them with your stare, and after a few complaints, your friend finally approached you to ask if you were okay.

"hm?"

"you're definitely not okay."

"i'm- yeah! i'm totally fine. you were saying?"

she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, not believing a single word that came out of your lips. you knew your actions were giving away too much, but even if you tried hiding the fact that something was bothering you, she'd probe and pry more relentlessly.

"what's wrong? there's something wrong. are you okay?"

you sighed defeatedly, there's no more escaping her. figuring that there isn't much to do aside from telling her what's on your mind, you pulled your friend into an empty room and shut the door. resting your back against the surface and in a hushed whisper, ushered her to come closer.

"are you pregnant?"

"what- no! charlotte what on earth- say that again and i'm no longer telling you."

"ok ok! i'm shutting the fuck up. you may continue."

a brief pause encapsulated the unoccupied room before you opened your lips hesistantly. opening up to people was something you always found hard to do, whether they be a family member or a close friend, you could never easily voice out your thoughts. but you couldn't really hold this in any longer, you needed to tell someone.

"i've been feeling... an awful lot insecure lately. not the kind that involves my appearance! that's saved for tuesdays."

"then what kind?"

"it.. it's about wilson.."

"what did he do? do you need me to chop off his-"

"no no! none of that! it's just... i'm scared i'll just end up as another ex-this or ex-that or someone that house would mention to him and james would gag whenever he hears my name. i don't know maybe i'm just being over-dramatic."

"have you tried telling wilson about how you’re feeling?"

"i've tried starting the conversation.. but i'd always end up chickening out. so now i'm stuck with these self-deprecating thoughts and i don't like it one bit." you ended with a huff, hiding your face behind your hands and tiredly letting your shoulders slouch down. "it's hard talking to patients when every single one of them would ask me if 'everything's alright', i should be the one asking them that!"

"you know, you shouldn't be bottling your feelings. a relationship goes two ways, don't be scared to tell any of this to wilson! asking for reassurance is never a bad thing, and it doesn't make you needy or demanding or whatever, it's your right as his partner! i'm sure wilson would understand, he loves you very much, how could he not?"

"you're right.. i'll talk to him when he have lunch together."

"you won't chicken out?"

"i won't. i swear."

"you better. i'll be watching you."

you quickly opened the door to avoid staying in the room for too long, you didn't want someone to catch you too talking about personal matters. charlotte waved you off before returning back to her department, leaving you alone. you decided that for the remainder of your vacant and spare time you were going to rehearse what you plan on telling wilson, you didn't want to embarrass yourself and stutter the entire time. so you scurried away into your office, determined to go through with your plan.

if anyone were to press their ear against the door, they would have heard your incessant muttering and would've thought you were insane. you had your feet propped up on the table as you recited word for word how you were going to tell all of this to wilson, despite knowing that when the time comes, all of it would be useless and you'd go completely off script. but it gets your mind off of things so you carried on. a familiar knocking pattern resounded over your hushed whispering, it was wilson. he had this specific knocking style that you grew accustomed too. you felt a shiver run down and a dreaded feeling dripped in each step you took on your way to open the door for james, since you kept it locked, not wanting anyone to see you panicking in your office. you twisted the door knob slowly, and behind it was wilson. standing happily and his usual dorky smile making an appearance when he saw your face.

"hi."

"hi. you ready to grab lunch?"

you turned your head to the side before answering, a habit that always showed whenever you were nervous and you never seemed to be able to get rid of it. to try and avoid him from gaining any suspicion that something's wrong and notice how tense and sweaty your palms were, you tried making small talk. 'i'm not myself at all.'

the entire short walk to the canteen you listened to wilson ramble about some case house had, and how they're having a hard time diagnosing the patient. and no matter how hard you tried focusing on wilson's voice the gnawing feeling won't stop buzzing and crawling at the back of your mind, you felt sick.

wilson, from the moment you opened the door to your office, knew something was up. you didn't have that bright favorite smile of his, nor did you have any snarky remarks to say while he was storytelling. you didn't contribute to the conversation at all, and it wasn't like you. it carried on even until you two came back from the canteen and retreated to his office. he wanted to ask you what's wrong, but he didn't want to pressure you into saying anything you aren’t ready to tell him. so instead he waited until you were the one to approach him. he was also half-nervous that if he ever asked, you'd just suddenly blurt out that you two should break up. and he'd rather not have that happen.

"james.. i'm..." now it was wilson's turn to be nervous. "you love me, right?"

you had this.. sad look on your face that wilson wasn't used to, he couldn’t describe it. you looked defeated, tired even. he began to replay the last few days, you were fine! you were your usual, loving, witty, happy self!

"yes, of course i do." he replied with all seriousness, dropping the files he picked up to reorganize them. "why do you ask?"

"it's nothing, really. and i don't know why i did."

he gently approached you, careful not to seem condescending when he gently took a hold of both your wrists.

"i'm pretty sure you going quiet is never a good idea and is 'nothing'. come on sweetheart, you can tell me anything."

when you looked up into his eyes and found nothing but sincerity, you cracked and gave in. you told him everything that was on your mind.

"i'm- i was.. i was scared, james. i was scared that you'd leave me for some... better girl or something i don't even know myself, and that i'd just end up as another one of your exes. i don't want that! i don't want any of this to end and i'm so so scared that it eventually would and i can't do anything about it and i couldn't tell you earlier because i was scare you'd get mad or somethi-"

"(y/n)."

the soft mention of your name stopped you from rambling on any further. and now you were in his embrace, his arms wrapped around you perfectly and tightly. when wilson pulled away, youhad tears threatening to fall from your eyelids.

"i'd never leave you for anyone else, (y/n). why would i when i already found the one? i already found you. you just- complete me. i can't put into words how much you make me feel content or- or happy, loved, it's like you were always here. i would have to be an idiot to let you go. besides, you know too much about me. you're stuck with me forever."

he still managed to make you laugh despite the tears running down your cheeks. you probably looked insane, laughing and crying at the same time.

"you're- i love you, james."

"i love you too, (y/n). don't ever be afraid to talk about anything, okay?"

"okay."

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[louellaby]

FORGET-ME-NOT

REPLACED!MC AU

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

W A R N I N G

May contain bad grammar, limited vocabulary, and OOC characters. Please mind that English is not my first language, and it takes a lot of courage for me to post due to my anxiety and paranoia.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

taglist: @books-and-catears @owl778 @yourlocalgrass @kaiserkisser @hhurric4ne

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER I | CHAPTER II | CHAPTER III | LOUE'S LETTER | CHAPTER IV | CHAPTER V | LOUE'S LETTER | CHAPTER VI | CHAPTER VII | CHAPTER VIII | CHAPTER IX | CHAPTER X | LOUE'S LETTER | EPILOGUE

C H A P T E R V I I

「 To My Dear Family 」

"MC, we're leaving now. Take good care of the house with Soley until we get back. Make sure nothing bad happens or there will be consequences. Am I clear?"

The demon brothers were summoned to the castle by Diavolo. It seemed something so important, having the need to summon them so early in the morning. Lucifer said to make sure nothing bad happened while he was going on and on about minding the mansion, but you knew he wasn't talking about the building. He wanted you to make sure nothing bad happens to Soley. Otherwise, it's him you'll answer to.

"Yes, Lucifer. I heard you loud and clear. I hope you have a safe trip."

As soon as the seven of them departed without saying much to you, you headed towards your bedroom in hopes of studying the material Solomon gave you as homework. When you passed by Soley's room, you noticed how quiet it was. As if you were infected with the brothers' care for her, worry filled you, and you immediately knocked on the door. There was no answer, so you knocked once more. Just as you were about to knock again, you received a message on your D.D.D. from the girl herself.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

S O L E Y

Hello, MC. I went out today with a few of my demon friends.

Lucifer already knows this.

Don't worry about me though, I'll be fine on my own.

Do you want anything from the village?

I'll bring it back home for you.

Y O U

To which village are you heading?

You should have told me that first before you left. Lucifer never said anything about you leaving today.

S O L E Y

Well, maybe he forgot to tell you.

Although, I did tell him last night when we were in his office.

Maybe it slipped his mind because his paperwork's been piling up again.

Y O U

That's weird...

Lucifer usually never forgets anything, nor does he let anything slide right by him.

Are you sure you told him?

S O L E Y

Whether you believe me or not is up to you. It won't change the fact that I'm already outside, and I'm not telling you where I am since you'll just drag me back to the house.

I'm not a little girl anymore, MC, I can take care of myself. Tell Lucifer and his brothers that, too, because they tend to worry so much about me.

Too much even.

Y O U

You really should be more careful, Soley. Those boys are worried for good reason.

I know you think you can handle yourself, but just remember that you're in the Devildom.

This place is dangerous for humans like us. So please tell me where you are so I can at least come and protect you in any case something happens.

... Soley?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You didn't receive a reply, which made you anxious. Taking your coat with you, you dashed out of the house and headed towards Purgatory Hall. You had a feeling that Soley might have just ignored your message and didn't want to say anymore, but you couldn't risk it. You didn't want to risk anything at that moment.

As you were catching your breath from running a long way, you knocked at the door of Purgatory Hall. It opened shortly after your last knock and revealed a certain angel that displayed worry on his face the moment he laid his eyes on you.

"MC? What are you doing here? Did you run all the way here from the House of Lamentation?" Cassiel was there by your side when you almost fell to the ground. Not only were your legs trembling, but also your hands, and just your whole body. The angel first assumed that you were frightened, but a glint of a certain look in your eyes told him something different.

"M-MC!" The two of you heard a voice from down the hall of the entrance. A young angel came running towards you as soon as he saw you from the window of his bedroom. You tried to look as well as you could, but you couldn't fool him. Letting the older angel carry you inside, Luke followed the two of you shortly after closing the front door. Simeon and Solomon entered the living room where Cassiel placed you on the couch, and Luke handed you a cup of warm tea he brewed before you arrived.

But you knew you had no time for all of that. You told them what was troubling you. At first, they, too, were worried until a few seconds passed, and the thought came to them. Was it really a bad thing for Soley to disappear?

"Please help me find Soley and bring her back home! I... I need to make sure she's safe. Otherwise, my p—...p— I just.. —p-please....!" You bowed your head towards them after speaking as fast— or even faster than Leviathan whenever he's in one of his moods. They barely understood your words, so they missed the slip-up in your stuttering. You looked at all of them with your adorable puppy eye look. It was something you knew they could never resist, and something you very much needed.

Seeing a lot of ripples from the cup of tea in your hand due to your shaking, Luke grew more worried about you. You knew the young angel wouldn't allow anything bad happening to Soley, even when he wasn't fond of her as well. He was a proper angel in the making, after all.

"We have to find her quickly!" Luke exclaimed as he looked at Simeon and Solomon for help. Simeon nodded in agreement. Solomon hesitated. He looked at you, wondering if that's what you really wanted. When you nodded at him, he sighed deeply and agreed to help. He really couldn't say no to you.

Before the sorcerer could leave the room to prepare a way to locate Soley, he received a message from one of his pact demons. Barbatos himself. He then informed the rest of what the butler told him.

"Apparently, we don't have to worry about Soley anymore. Barbatos said that she's secretly being monitored, so if something happens to her, he'll be alerted right away."

Barbatos, huh? A wave of relief washed your troubles away, making you melt onto the sofa. Luke dropped himself on the spot next to you, and he rested his body against yours. He looked happy to see you again... It hurt. Why couldn't they look at you like that anymore?

After a few hours of catching up with them and getting to eat Luke's delicious cookies again, you headed back out. You agreed to let Cassiel walk you home, knowing he had something he wanted to talk to you about, and it was making you wonder. As if he could read your thoughts, he answered that question.

"Did you make up your mind yet, MC?"

"... Yes, actually.... I'm going to leave."

"I see... Back to the Human Realm, then?"

You smiled sadly in response. You looked around you and watched as the lights shone upon every demon in the streets. You passed by the stores filled with memories of you and the brothers. Memories that seemed to be too far away from your reach.

When you reached for the gates of the house, Cassiel grabbed your hand and squeezed it for a tiny moment. You quietly questioned his intentions before he spoke up, "When you ever need something, please don't hesitate to tell me. You may not think I'm as reliable as the brothers, but I'm sure I can help you in a way they can't.... So when that happens..."

The way the angel was acting made you wonder something about him. Was he always like that? Now that you thought about it, you've never had the chance to judge his character properly. You've never really seen him at the moments when he's most happy, sad, excited, or flustered. So, in the end, you ended up taking his offer. When you did, he smiled with content and waited for you to head inside the house before turning on his heels and heading back home.

You returned to your room, mind filled with thoughts. Disturbing, blurry yet clear, pretty little thoughts. Those were all you needed to pick up your pen and start writing on a piece of paper.

There, Soley sat on your bed as she fidgeted with a sealed envelope containing the letter you had just written. She recalled the sight of you when she had just returned home; you were walking down the stairs of the entrance hall, heading towards the front door with your packed luggage in hand.

"MC? Are you going somewhere?"

"Soley...! You're... home... Much, much earlier than I expected."

"Yeah, well... something happened... Never mind that— Where are you going?"

"I'm... I'm heading back to the human world."

Soley squealed with excitement, letting herself fall backwards onto your bed, hovering the letter she had already ripped open above her face.

"I left a letter for the brothers in my room... It's just on my pillow. So, if they don't see it tonight, can you give it to them tomorrow? I want you to make sure they read it after I'm already gone."

After she finished reading the contents of your message, she pushed herself up and ran out of your room. She rushed towards the common room, somewhere she knew the brothers wouldn't be around for long after just getting home. She made her way towards the fireplace and squatted down, carefully watching the flame dance before reaching the letter out to it. It didn't take long for the fire to engulf the whole thing, and the girl was smiling during the whole procedure.

The flame danced and danced and danced some more until there was nothing left of the papers but soot and ash. Soley jumped in surprise and got up on her feet when she heard the common room doors slowly creak open. She immediately dusted herself off and made sure she looked proper before facing the eldest born who had just entered the room.

"Soley, what are you doing so close to the fireplace?"

"Calm down, Lucifer. I didn't get hurt, I promise, so don't worry about me! I was just a bit cold, but I'm better now! Much, much better!"

"... Alright. We brought dinner from Hell's Kitchen, so head to the dining room. Everyone's already waiting."

"Okaayyy~!"

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

To my dear family,

I just wanted to say that I still love you no matter what happens, and I want the best for all of you. I've never thought that things would go this way. Not since you accepted me as part of your family all those years ago. I really wished it didn't come to this, but it's too late for that now.

I want you all to know that I'm happy for you. You're all cheerful and content with how everything is, and... that makes me really happy...

I'm writing this letter as a goodbye. A goodbye to all of our precious memories together and to what could have been. I'm really sorry that I went with this instead of personally saying goodbye, but even if I did get the chance to speak with you, I knew I wouldn't be able to bear it. I can't part with you while I look at your faces, so this is the best way. And, if there was any chance at all, I wouldn't want you to stop me.

By the time you're reading this, I've already left for the human realm. If you ever want to see me again, I added my home address and contact information on here. Please find me whenever you want to because I know for a fact that I would want to see you again and be part of your family once more. But for now, it's goodbye.

I'll be leaving my D.D.D. with Diavolo and Barbatos, so please don't contact me there anymore. It would be useless as I won't be able to see your messages.

Well... this letter has gone off long enough, so I'll stop here. Just remember that I love each and every one of you. I'm looking forward to you reaching out to me.

With all the love and wishes,

MC

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

「 CHAPTER VI | CHAPTER VIII 」

[beardedmrbean]

An instructor at the University of Kansas has been placed on leave after a video on X showed him suggesting to his class that men who won't vote for a female president should be shot.

"(If you think) guys are smarter than girls, you've got some serious problems," the man in the video said. "That's what frustrates me. There are going to be some males in our society that will refuse to vote for a potential female president because they don't think females are smart enough to be president. We could line all those guys up and shoot them. They clearly don't understand the way the world works.

"Did I say that? Scratch that from the recording. I don't want the deans hearing that I said that."

The university confirmed the video was recorded during a class this semester.

"We are aware of the video, which was recorded during a class earlier this semester," said Erinn Barcomb-Peterson, a KU spokesperson. "The instructor is being placed on administrative leave, pending further investigation. The instructor offers his sincerest apologies and deeply regrets the situation. His intent was to emphasize his advocacy for women’s rights and equality, and he recognizes he did a very poor job of doing so. The university has an established process for situations like this and will follow that process."

In a similar statement on X, KU added that the comments "made an inappropriate reference to violence."

Who is the KU instructor in the video?

Barcomb-Peterson confirmed that Phil Lowcock is the instructor in the video.

Lowcock's name had been circulating on social media. His staff page on the KU Athletics website no longer exists, and at least one social media post by an athletics account that mentioned him — a staff highlight in April — has been deleted. As of Wednesday afternoon, he was still listed on the university's online directory as a lecturer.

The 2015 KU track and field media guide said Lowcock has taught at KU since 1984. As of 2015, he was an academic adviser for multiple athletics teams while doing support work for international student-athletes in addition to be an adjunct faculty member in the health, sport and exercise science department.

A request for comment sent to Lowcock's KU email account was not immediately returned.

Kansas Republican Party chair Mike Brown wrongly identified the speaker in a press release and now-deleted social media post as a journalism professor who retired in December 2019.

Kansas Regents oppose 'violent rhetoric'

The University of Kansas is under the Kansas Board of Regents, which oversees the state's public higher education institutions.

Blake Flanders, the KBOR president and CEO, said in a statement that he was aware of the video, and that the instructor was place on leave pending investigation by KU "in accordance with their established processes."

“The Board believes every American citizen has the right to vote how they see fit without fear of retribution or violence," Flanders said. "All of us, especially those in positions of authority, have a responsibility to respect and uphold that right. The Regents firmly oppose the use of violent rhetoric in our political discourse."

Free speech group calls for instructor's reinstatement

The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, an organization that promotes free speech by students and faculty on college campuses, called for KU "to refrain from punishing faculty for protected speech and to restore this instructor to the classroom immediately."

"The First Amendment protects professors who tell brief, off-topic jokes in the classroom," said Graham Piro, FIRE program officer, in a statement. "It also protects hyperbole. In order to constitute a true threat, a speaker must communicate a serious intent to commit an act of unlawful violence against a specific individual or a group of individuals.

"The viral video shows an instructor making an off-handed joke — not communicating a serious intent to commit unlawful violence. That's protected speech, and people advocating that the instructor be punished for his expression are advocating for the erosion of the First Amendment."

FIRE's 2025 college free speech rankings list KU's speech climate as "below average."

What Kansas politicians are saying about KU instructor's comments

The video was posted Wednesday morning by Ned Ryun, who works in conservative politics and is the son of former U.S. Rep. Jim Ryun, R-Kan., who was a KU track superstar.

"Seriously ⁦@UnivOfKansas⁩?" Ryun posted. "You're letting this be said in your classrooms? That men who won't vote for Kamala Harris for President should be lined up and shot?? ⁦@RogerMarshallMD⁩ ⁦@JerryMoran"

That post was shared on X by both U.S. Sen. Roger Marshall, R-Kan., and Republican Attorney General Kris Kobach.

"KS Regents: We educate leaders, build communities, and make discoveries that change the world," Kobach said. "KU prof: Some males in our society will refuse to vote for a female prez, because they don't think females are smart enough to be Prez. We could line all those guys up and shoot them."

Marshall called for Lowcock's immediate firing.

"The University of Kansas must fire this professor immediately," Marshall said in a statement. "Anyone who says that people who don't vote for Kamala Harris should be 'lined up and shot' are completely deranged and shouldn't be around students nor in academia. This promotion of political violence should be met with quick action by KU."

In a post on X, U.S. Sen. Jerry Moran, R-Kan., called the video "disturbing and inappropriate."

"There should never be a call for violence anytime or anywhere in the classroom," Moran added. "We must cool down the political rhetoric and be respectful and civil to each other, & that is especially true for someone charged with teaching our young people."

“While healthy political discourse is paramount to our democratic society, violent rhetoric is never acceptable," Democratic Gov. Laura Kelly said in a statement. "We must strive to make our classrooms a place where diverse viewpoints are respectfully discussed, and politics is not weaponized to make our students feel unsafe or demonized for having differing opinions. I appreciate the university’s swift action to address this matter."

[secriden]

alrighty i told myself i was allowed to watch ep 2 during dinner so:

oh joke is proper-proper besotted. i honestly thought joke had just recently noticed zo, maybe had a tiny crush, but i'm beginning to think the timeline has to be longer. this boy is deep in the feels. now i'm really curious: what was with the whole freshman year animosity?

ohhh okok interesting, so at first i thought p'wave had a thing for zo and had clocked joke's interest, but now i'm wondering if its because there's something going on on the mentor level. is this like... romeo & juliet but with college department mentor-mentee pairs?? xD the almost insultingly obvious 'danger' music playing when the mentor is talking to joke is... well i guess they wanted to make it clear that there is a -gasp- hidden agenda going on.

(ngl i thought the hidden agenda was just going to be that joke likes zo. like i thought that was it. i guess its nice that the stakes will be slightly higher.)

like in some sense joke is being incredibly blatant and clear. like i know zo's going to get upset at some point about whatever joke's hiding, but in his defence he's laying some really obvious clues down about the genuineness of his feelings. is zo not picking up on any of the signals because he assumes that joke is straight because of his dating history?

okay let me just say, on some subconscious level zo must trust joke because if someone reached for my glasses without explanation or warning you better believe it i would slap their hand away so fast like you don't mess with the only thing giving me the ability to see. D:<

also omg lets just appreciate joong's little pout!!! *O* also also, the whole "you have a crush?? tell me who!" "no." "i promise not to tell!!" "no." convo was very cute. <3

so interesting choice of words here. "can't" not "won't". is that an accurate nuance i wonder?? also, you can't tell anyone? just how bad is this secret??

oh we are just flying through all the cheesy romantic tropes aren't we?? *U* listen i'm a simple girl at heart, yes this kind of thing does it for me and i won't apologise. <3 (please tell me at some point there's going to be a piggyback ride. its gotta happen.)

so far the show has teased:

some kind of backstory/fight/misunderstanding between jokezo in their freshman year

some kind of history (antagonistic) between their mentors

joke has a 'hidden agenda' (secret) which could be related to either or both of the above that he "can't" share with zo (yet)

this is a nice set of possibilities for a good amount of extremely low stakes angst and fluff so i'm very happy. ^w^

i am hoping for zo to get more depth soon because right now he's a bit of an unknown. i'm used to having a better handle on both leads by the end of ep 2. i guess we learn that he likes debating and has aspirations to win that award, but we haven't learned why. like for now i care about him solely because he's being played by dunk and joong is very good at looking at him like he hung the moon and stars in the night sky.

[krikeymate]

okay same person who asked for dredge au (ill never reveal myself >:))

what are sam and tara running from? is it their mother? or was sam like “tara the sea. it calls to me. YHE SEA TARA. CAN U HEAR IT.” and tara was like “mmm ok 🙄 ill come w u i GUESS” and does sidney try to help them when they find her? is she like “stay away from the collector” but sam feels an undeniable pull towards him??? so many questions, so little time

Frodo voice: All right, then. Keep your secrets. This is like the exact opposite of a secret admirer situation. I'm the one admiring and you're the secret.

The grass is green, the sky is blue, and Christina Carpenter is a terrible person. Just some of life's constants.

Sam's been away for a couple of months, working in the mainland and sending money back home for her family (for her sister). She gets back into town - along the coast she calls home - and heads straight for the tavern. She's going to need a drink before dealing with her mother. She stays cloaked, not interested in dealing with any nosy townsfolk wanting to know where she's been and what she's up to lately, or anyone looking for a rematch (she had left in a hurry, the aftermath of several bloody fistfights).

She's not the type interested in overhearing, but her mother's name catches her ears, and she tunes in automatically. What she hears makes her blood boil. Her mother's in debt, it seems, to the Bailey's who own the dockyard. She's had her debt wiped clean, it seems. She did so by selling her sister, it seems.

"Young Master Ritchie is pleased," says one to the other. Oh she's sure he is, he's always liked them young and innocent, and he had always spent their time together eyeing her little sister. What happens to them after he gets bored doesn't bear mentioning. Money makes any charges or bodies disappear, it seems.

They're collecting her in the morning, she hears. They can certainly try, she thinks, downing her drink and leaving the tavern. She hurries home to her sister locked in her room. Their time is short however, it seems Ritchie has come to collect early, the "don't make this any harder than it has to be, Samantha. I know you're there." tells her exactly where the fault lies. She wasn't careful enough. They sneak out the back with nothing but the clothes they wear.

The path out of town is blocked now, guarded by men in the colour of the Bailey crest, and Sam isn't willing to risk traversing the cliffs at night. That leaves the docks. It's the last place they'll look for them, at least, she thinks. They sneak aboard an aging fishing trawler near ready to depart, captained by a man who looks like he's seen better days, and half a crew. They won't kick them out if they find them, Sam knows. They reek of desperation. She holds her sister close as they hide inside an empty crate and the boat begins to rock.

~

So Sidney's all alone out there on that island, unable to leave. The beast will know the moment the book leaves the shore, and if she leaves the book behind, then she'll no longer be safe from the curse. No, she's to stay on the island. It provides all she needs, and the book keeps it hidden from those who would do her harm. Well, all alone until the sisters pick up a stray dog on a nearby island, then Sidney gets a canine companion.

Sidney does her best to help the girls in whatever way she can, by sharing information, by warning them away from The Collector. She doesn't know for certain, but she has her suspicions. The curse of the beast prevents her from speaking his name, his story.

Sam is drawn to him. His eyes are always hidden behind shaded glasses, and there's some part of her that knows why. There's something wrong with him. He's touched by the sea in a way all the stories warn you about. But then again, aren't they all. It seems all they meet these days have lost a part of themselves to the sea. The more artefacts they find, the more manic he becomes. Sam bans Tara from coming ashore after the second. She fears for her around this man. But not for herself, no, there's something inside of her that knows this man cannot hurt her.

[ellieloverr]

My Strange addiction P. 4

Warning ⚠ Language, Body Image Issues, making out, Teasing ⚠

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞ ∞༺✦✮✦༻✧✧༺✦✮✦༻

Ellie's eyes looked at you in worry. Your eyes departed suddenly by the buzzing of your phone. It was your alarm for bed but you didn't fell right going to bed with Ellie injured badly. You turned your alarm off and got up and went to go find the alcohol pads for Ellie so she won't get an Infection. You found them in Jesse's room. You got on your knees in front of Ellie and held her face still. She flinched because it had stung .

It's alright I'm almost done.

Once you were done you handed Dina a rag to dry her cut on her forehead.

I'mma head out I have work early in the morning

Yea ok I'll be there in a bit

Be safe kid

Bye

You walked out of Jesse's apartment and by the time you were in bed Dina had came back. You couldn't sleep knowing that Ellie was hurt badly. You decided to go for a walk around your neighborhood. You grabbed a sweater and but on sweat pants. You grabbed your phone and head phones and played "BAGS" by clario.

You came back from your walk and Dina was already asleep so you couldn't talk to her. You really wanted to stay up but you knew you couldn't because you have work at 5:00AM. You eventually went to sleep.

✧༺✦✮✦༻ ༺✦✮✦༻✧

In the morning you had about 10 more minutes before you could clock out. You were doing cashier and serving because the cashier had went out sick.

You were at the cash register an you were looking for your note pad for serving. A customer walks in.

Welcome to 𝐿𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦'𝑠 𝐶𝑎𝑓e how may I assist y-

Your words are cut off as you look up. It was Ellie.

Hey princess so I heard your a servant?

Very funny Ellie, what do you want?

That's no way to talk to a customer pretty girl.

Ellie hurry the fuck up I have to serve to.

Fine whatever you say m'lady, a matcha smoothie.

Whatever, what size?

Hm how tall are you again?

Wow love the jokes williams. Get her a small please.

What you doing tomorrow?

Nothing why?

Movie night tomorrow is Saturday

Oh shit right I forgot uh sure I'll go.

You didn't forget you just had a lot on your mind. You could see Ellie's cut on her forehead and her bandaged knuckles from that night. You hand Ellie her drink and she gives you that stupid smirk she always does before leaving the shop.

As soon as you get home you Immediately call Jesse because you guys were supposed to meet at a diner tonight. He said that you guys might have to go a little early because he has to set up movie night for tomorrow. You had classes in an hour so you had to hurry and change from your work clothes into baggie jeans with a regular black long sleeved shirt with your favorite shoes to go to class. After your class ended you had sat in the quad under a shady tree sketching while softly singing "Billie Bossa Nova". You didn't notice that you were sketching out a picture of Ellie untill you added the hair. You kept sketching her though because it was the only thing that was keeping you from getting anxious. Your phone had buzzed, it was a text from Jesse.

Jess 💕

Yo what diner you want to go to????

Idk you can pick I ate earlier so I'm probably gonna just get smth to drink

No you didn't ik your schedule kid you had work earlier and you never bring lunch to your job

Fuckin stalker

Fine I'll pick but you are eating ok miss I'm in love with Ellie Williams.

What?! I don't love her Jess she's a friend that I like as a F R I E N D.

Uh huh sure whatever loser I'll see u in a bit bye

Read 11:20PM

✧༺✦✮✦༻ ༺✦✮✦༻✧

As you walk back to your apartment all you can think about is Ellie. What is wrong with me? What is she doing to me? Those thoughts filled your head. Once you got home you opened the door and all there was in that room was smoke.

What the fuck? D you didn't fucking tell me Ellie was here?!

Oops sorry babe I forgot to tell you

Bullshit.

You wanted to go to a Billie eilish concert with somebody but you didn't know who because you had two tickets that arrived yesterday. You wanted to ask Dina but she was really busy. You couldn't ask Jesse because the day that you are going he is visiting his parents. Suddenly a new idea popped in your head. Dina had left to go get groceries.

Ellie

Yes m'lady?

Getting funnier. You wanna go to a concert with me?

I was gonna ask Dina but she's really busy around that time.

Thanks for being your first option.

Fuck you. Are you gonna go or no?

Uhm- y-yeah sure.

Alright it's on monday

I'll just go to your apartment when I'm ready.

Wait where is it?

In LA

Holy fuck in another state?!

Yup

Fine I gotta go though I'll see you tomorrow princess

Bye.

✧༺✦✮✦༻ ༺✦✮✦

It was the day before the concert and you had just gotten off of work. You were walking home as you noticed you left your keys at your job so you ran back and you bump into somebody.

Fuck-uh-shit I'm so sorry

No worries your just being the good girl you are right princess.

E-ellie?

What other person is being pinned on the floor right now I think just me kid.

You jumped up as you realized you were pinning Ellie on the floor. Your heart was racing, she looked so good that day.

Uh- sorry

It's fine so when are we leaving tomorrow?

What do you mean we are leaving today Ellie

Why?

So we can have somewhere to stay when the concert is over which is going to be very late and I don't want to get on a plane at one in the morning.

Wow-uh ok I'll get my stuff ready then.

As Ellie leaves you exhale in relief because of your thoughts. Why is she doing this to me? Oh no I have to be in a room with her. Why did she look so good? It was all you could think about untill you remembered what you came back for. You grabbed your keys and went back outside and saw some guy trying to beat up Ellie. You knew Ellie was a very good fighter but that means it wouldn't go well either way. You had grabbed Ellie's arm and pulled her into the passenger seat of her car and you grabbed her keys and started driving to your apartment.

What the actual fuck Ellie.

What? He was being a dick.

So? You didn't have to be a dick to.

Fuck you. You don't even know what happened.

Oh yeah?

...

Exactly so shut the fuck up.

You drive Ellie to your apartment sense Jesse's was down stairs you sat Ellie on your bed and got your first aid kit.

Hold this on your hand.

Wh-

Just fucking do it.

You didn't expect the next sentence out of Ellie's mouth which stunned you a bit.

So.. The other night when you forgot your jacket.

Can I ask you why you did it?

Uhm.. Yeah I uh-

if you don't wanna talk abt it you don't have to.

Yeah no I guess I should tell you. Uhm idk I just did it because I was unsatisfied with myself I guess.

Is that it?

No uhm... I did it because if people too but there's just a bunch of reasons why.

Oh I think your ok.

What?

I mean like I think that you'll eventually be ok.

Oh.. Thanks El.

El?

Oh- oh my god I- I'm sorry I didn't mean to call you that.

Do it again

I'm not calling you that ever again.

Cmon do it again

I said-

Your words were cut off by Ellie's lips pressing onto yours. You gasped while kissing her, you didn't pull back. Her lips were so soft pressed against yours, you didn't want her to leave anymore, it's like you were strangely addicted to her lips now. She was smiling while kissing you. You were pinned on your wall all of a sudden.

Shh shh I got you baby.

She whispered to you while kissing you. You enjoyed having Ellie with you. You enjoyed making out with Ellie, it was like nothing you've ever experienced. Ellie was different she was gentle but demanding. You loved it, you loved her.

✧༺✦✮✦༻ ∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠:

𝐴𝑙𝑟 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝐸𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑜𝑘 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑦𝑒 💕

𝑃𝑠. 𝑆𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝐼 𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑠.

[solitarysurvival]

THEME SONGS.

1 .    THE YAWNING GRAVE     —    lord huron.

i know the rain like the clouds know the sky i speak to birds and tell them where to fly i sing the songs that you hear on the breeze i write the names of the rocks and the trees oh you fool, there are rules i am coming for you (you can run, but you can't escape) darkness brings evil things, oh, the reckoning begins (you will open the yawning grave)

2 .   FORESTS    —    duologue.

come on out, come on out, come on out, don't hide there's no escaping it come on out, come on out, come on out, don't hide you can tell me once, you can tell me a thousand times let me down the easy way say these things will only fade can you hear, can you hear, can you hear the sounds of the departing? can you hear, can you hear them fading out? maybe i want not to want anymore and never get, never get, never get lost

3.    THE DEAD OF NIGHT     —    daniel olsen, jonathan eng, linnea olsson.

can you tell? does it show? i'm alone in a city of ghosts i don't know where to start in the search of the beat of your heart the sound in the deafening silence what is left when you're not around i don't know where to go shake the pain, break away leave it all behind with a hint of dawn im already gone when all you cared for is the fire you ended up blinded by the light i'm the only one alive in the dead of night

4 .    FORGET     —    the tech thieves.

nothing can stop us we'll make it to the end oh, how we envy all those we haven't met look up when we rise you'll see our silhouettes leave your hearts in the dust we ain't never giving up maybe you're starting you're starting to forget

5 .   STAND BY ME     —    ki:theory. when the night has come and the land is dark and the moon is the only light we see no i won't be afraid oh, i won't be afraid just as long as you stand, stand by me when the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall or the mountains should crumble to the sea i won't cry, i won't cry no i won't shed a tear

tagged by:  thank u @possessedchain mwah

tagging: @sacrisomnia @liutheri @profanecenser @idolpyre @byanyan @serialreporter @postguilt @goofily(whichever muse ur feeling!) @jiwone i feel like i missed a few pals so if you wanna do it say i tagged u bc know in my heart i did

[kimarisgundam]

Okay... wasn't expecting our Rockerboy and two solos to win the Stickball match last night...

I'm glad they won I guess... if they lost they would have to shave their bodies in front of the whole of Kabuki:

^ I just wanna say that I told them this would trigger Solo's psychosis. During the last part of the match, he tried to steal a ball from the enemy's circle...

which resulted in him getting pinned down repeatedly zapped cos the NPC was purposely holding the electric ball against his neck

He lost it and broke the reinforced handcuff. He almost turned violent, so Rockerboy ended up knocking him out. All this could have been avoided if they listened to my Netrunner 😠

Anyway... I'm glad they won. I got my Jinguji stuff, vintage tamagotchi, and the shard back. And the NPC fixer promised he won't be spreading rumours that my Netrunner is sleeping with Rockerboy anymore 👍

But... I have another problem now... The fixer told me something really... troubling 😣

His netrunner cracked my shard... based on the way my shard was encrypted, he asked me if I'm Requiem

I obviously denied. But he ran a background check on me. Someone within Arasaka must have ratted me out cos he said he's 90% sure "Mako" and "Requiem" are the same person 😣

He frigging said this in front of Rockerboy 😣

The fixer is asking cos apparently there's a virus floating around that's being used to torture people, there's a rumour floating that it was developed by Arasaka's runner Requiem

I'm like wtf? I didn't make that. I'm not Requiem and even if I was... I seriously didn't make this

But the fixer (DM) said the virus attacks the nervous system/neuralware. It disrupts the nerve signals and causes a non-lethal pain that's apparently bad enough to make people kill themselves just to stop the pain

I think my irl gave me away 😣

I had a very bad reaction when I heard it attacked the nerves 😣

Cos yeah, I did code something like that very early on in the campaign. Like irl months ago last year 😣

But I swear, it wasn't for torture! It was for my sponsor/dad!

It's not a virus, it's just a disruptor code that temporarily jumps the spine to allow an AI to briefly take over

It's for therapeutic use! To get cyber psychos under control! Dad said his research is meant for helping people cos Arasaka wants to give back to Night City 😣

I denied everything. But irl I was visibly stunned 😣. My friend who plays as Rockerboy saw my reaction and started pressing me for the truth 😣

Wtf do you want me to say?? I can't admit to who my Netrunner really is. Cos I did frigging bad things under Arasaka's orders 😭

Fixer asked my Netrunner if I know who Altiera Cunningham is... and what happened to her... he said he's warning me cos despite everything, he kinda sees me as a friend... and he said getting this involved with Arasaka never ends well

Like ok?! I know?? I've been trying to get out??

All of you don't know how pressured I am. You don't know my bio parents were high ranking Arasaka execs! And my adoptive father/sponsor is the current head of Arasaka's R&D department >:U

I was born into this, I can't leave >:U

And now my irl friends are all meta gaming and pressuring me. They want to know what's going on 😭

And in game, Rockerboy is blowing up at my Netrunner and demanding the truth. He said he can forgive anything I did. But he needs to know it I'm in trouble now. But I can't tell him

Does he want to know how I ratted him out to Arasaka in the beginning of the campaign? How I let my big brother torture him? Or about how I caused the deaths of his friends?

He wants to confront Arasaka cos he thinks I was manipulated. I wasn't ok?! I willingly followed orders cos I used to think the party were beneath me and Arasaka... does he still want to be my best friend if he finds out the truth...

Like just stop. Stop antagonising the corps. I had to rat you out cos you were trying to harm dad's public image. Stop making me choose between my family and you

Rockerboy asked my Netrunner to leave Night City with him one day. He gave my Netrunner a dream that she can be free from this hellhole... but this is how I repay my first real choom 🥲

Omg help me. Why am I such a bad person in this campaign 🥲

This Cyberpunk Red campaign is a disaster 😭

[mint-moon25]

Job 5:12 He thwarts the schemes of the crafty, so that their hands find no success. Psalm 2:1 Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain? Psalm 146:4 When his spirit departs, he returns to the ground; on that very day his plans perish. Proverbs 19:21 Many plans are in a man's heart, but the purpose of the LORD will prevail. Isaiah 8:10 Devise a plan, but it will be thwarted; state a proposal, but it will not happen. For God is with us." Isaiah 19:3 Then the spirit of the Egyptians will be emptied out from among them, and I will frustrate their plans, so that they will resort to idols and spirits of the dead, to mediums and spiritists.

FLORIDA

STAND - YOUR - GROUND - LAW

BUT - VERY - WEAK - BECAUSE

AMERICANS - ARE - WEAK AND

EVIL - HUMANS - AGE 246

LATE - MORNING - WAS - ABLE 2

CANCEL MY - FIFTH THIRD BANK

PINAY - FEMALE

2 - TEMPORARY - CREDITS - YES

REVERSED - MORE - THAN - $100

TAXI - DRIVER - REFUSED - 2 - YES

BRING - ME - 2 - MY - DESTINATION

BRINGING - ME - 2 - HIS - HOME

SO - THERE - USED - APP - MADE

RESERVATION - 2 - HOTEL

SAID - CHANGES - $25 - FEE

ABSOLUTELY - REFUSED - THEN 2

BRING - ME - 2 - MY - HOTEL

MORE - THAN - $100 - CHARGE

CLAIMS - SAID - THAT's BUSINESS

NOT - 2 - BRING - U 2 - ANYWHERE

BUT - WHERE - HE - LIVES - SAID

'AGE - OF - CONSENT' - SHOULD

HAVE - ENJOYED - IT - REVERSED

CREDIT - OTHER - WAS - LA FITNESS

BRICKELL - IN - SHOWER - WAS - YES

GOING - 2 - TAKE - ME - NAKE IN THE

FRONT - OF - SLIDING - DOORS - FOR

15 MIN - B 4 - CLOSING - WHAT THEY

WANT - THAT's - BUSINESS - GOT MY

REFUND - FEW - MONTHS - TEMPORARY

CREDIT - REVERSED - OVER - $100 ALSO

WHAT's - WRONG - WITH - THAT - ME YES

NAKED - AND - WET - FR - SHOWER - IN

THE - FRONT - OF - DOOR - BROUGHT

THERE - YOUR - AGE - OF - CONSENT

THAT's - BUSINESS - U - MUST - DO IT

ABIDE - OBEY - YOU - NAKED - OUTSIDE

BROUGHT - THERE - SO - WHAT - SAID

CLAIMS - CAN'T - HANDLE - ITS YOUR

PROBLEM - REVERSED - MY - CLAIM

WHAT - HAPPENED - AFTER - I LOST

MY - $300 - INCASE - I - NEED - IT FOR

NEGATIVE - $100 - THERE - SO - LOST

THAT - $300 - REVERSED - TEMPORARY

OTHER - SMALLER - AMOUNTS - ALSO

REVERSED - THAT - I - CAN'T - HANDLE

AMERICAN - BUSINESS - AS - 18 - AND

OLDER - REASON - 4 - CLOSING - LOTS

OF - TEMPORARY - CREDIT - REVERSED

AND - 2 - OVER - $100 - FOR - THAT's US

BUSINESS - U - MUST OBEY - BROUGHT

BY - TAXI - DRIVER - 2 - HIS - HOUSE

THAT - I'M - 18 AND OLDER - BOTH - IN

FLORIDA - DIFFERENT - CITIES

BRICKELL - MIAMI - AND - ANOTHER SO

BAD - U - SHOULDN'T - KNOW - NAME OF

CITY - THAT - EVIL - U - WON'T - HAVE

NIGHTMARE - SO - BIBLE - SAID - 'I'M

DOING - THAT - DEPART - FROM EVIL'

NEXT - U - HAVE - INACTIVITY - FEES

AFTER - 1 YEAR - JUST - YOUR - BANK

WHY - YOU - SERVE - 11 STATES ONLY

$5 - EACH - MONTH - UNTIL - ACCOUNT

IS - $0 - OR - NEGATIVE - $5 - BECAUSE

SOLE - HOUSEHOLDS - YOUR - MEMBER

WAS - SHOT 2 DEATH - IN - A - 7 ELEVEN

NO - ONE - LIVES - WITH - THAT PERSON

2 - TELL - U SHOT 2 DEATH - ROBBERY

LOCAL - 7 ELEVEN - CNN - LIVE - 24/7

NEWS - I CAN'T - HAVE - THAT - I'M SOLE

HOUSEHOLD - MUST - B - WITH - BETTER

THAT's - CITIBANK - USA - I'M - WELL YES

TRAVELLED - WORLD - AND - THE - USA 2

SHARED - NO - BOUNCED - CHECK - FEE

BUT - BANK OF AMERICA - IS CHANGING

FR - $35 - TO - $10 - PER - BOUNCED YES

CHECK - FEE - BUT - 3 BOUNCED - THAT's

$30 - STILL - FR - OUTRAGEOUS NOT CITI

CITIBANK - NO FEES - 4 - UNLIMITED

BOUNCED - CHECKS - NO - OVERDRAFT

FEES - FOREVER - NO - MINIMUM DEPOSIT

U - HAVE - 90 DAYS - 2 - PUT - MONEY EVEN

$1 - AND - DIRECT - DEPOSIT - 2 - WAIVE $15

MONTHLY - FOR - OVER - $250 - EACH - MO

OTHERS - $500 - OR - MORE - U - DON'T

WANT - THOSE - BANKS - CITIBANK - US

[oh-phineas]

Saturday, November 30 — SWYNRP Character Wishlist: A list of 10+ characters you’d like to see in the RP (for you to play or someone else!) 

I probably won't get any characters any time soon, even 9 is a lot for me and honestly I feel pretty good with the stories I'm already focusing on. But here's stuff that's been bouncing around my brain.

First up: Timon and Pumbaa!

I love these guys because they're comic relief but I also think there's something a bit sadder going on with them under the surface. "When the world turns its back on you, you turn your back on the world!"

I like the idea of them as misfits who fled somewhere less Magick-friendly because of their magic (uhh open to interpretation) maybe they're on sort of a crazy road trip situation or something and their car broke down in Swynlake and they go on a journey of realizing this is where they want to belong.

FCs! They should be comedians!!!

Timon: Jaboukie Young-White

Pumbaa: Kenan Thompson

Next: Kiki Takayama!

I don't think I'll get Kiki because the way I'd do her story would probably be kind of similar to Mirabel but tbh maybe someday if I did want to get into sorcery. But I just love her I love her story! Witch on her own for the first time, discovers burnout, magic as a metaphor for creative block, I just love it. I don't have a FC tbh but there are probably so many.

Next: Alisha Hawthorne!

Between recently reading Project Hail Mary and The Space Gal going up in space, having a lot of thoughts about astronauts lately. Imagine closing this character by sending her to SPACE. much to consider.

FC: Issa Rae!

Ok next... pls bring me the love story for the ages... FLO AND RAMONE! FLAMONE!

God they are just so slay... imagining Flo as this sort of all-over-the-place creative genius and Ramone as the man who loves her unconditionally, they're so classically cool with Flo's vintage style and Ramone's tattoos, they go out and Flo is making friends like crazy and Ramone is just like ya that's my wife... also more tattoo artists for Sunburst!!! Yes pls!

FCs: Flo - Keke Palmer!

Ramone: I don't have a FC in mind but trust me he would slay.

Okay next... DARLA!!

Bee's task inspired this because rlly I think something that is super important to merpeople's stories is that there ARE a lot of people who mean them ill or actually don't mean them ill but still have no respect for them or their right to live their lives. I think there could be something cool here with like parasocial relationships or something idk. Bring Darla!!!

FC: Shannon Purser

Next... HANK!

I love Hank. I love all of Finding Nemo. Who doesn't love a grouch with a heart of gold? Maybe even... retired RAS agent? Idk rewatch Finding Dory and try and tell me he hasn't charmed you

FC: Colman Domingo bring him plzzz

Additionally... MULAN!

My gym did a "favorite disney princess" poll the other day and because it is a gym the winner was Mulan. I always want to see more #jocks, hit me up for highly competitive backstories etc. I just think Mulan totally slays and we already have Shang and Mushu and the Mulan 2 crew so!!!

FC: Sabrina Wu

And finally... ABBY MALLARD!

I love Abby from Chicken Little. I love a misfit who doesn't care what anyone thinks and marches to the beat of their own drum. The karaoke scene in this movie is unparalleled. Selfishly would love for someone to bring her to the psychology department at Pride U or maybe Jiminy Cricket's office, maybe she wants to be a school counselor!

No FC idea because tbh I think FC-less is the way to go here?

Anyway those are my ideas! Yay finished Wrimo!

[springsheep]

In The Name Of The Brother Notes Ep. 28 - 31

Ep 28 -> SZW chats with the jap painter. He does research into the ping fang district...

SZW does research into the "water department" of the Japs... Oh god....

Mr. Shi, tian xiaojiang, SZWu are in the camo together...

Mr. Long (the one whose son is captured) begs Guan Xue to find his son.

SZW is so sad.

SZW: thats my brother, my only brother. If I can't even protect him, who can I protect?

Xie Yue and guan Kai "kidnap" Junko...

SZW chats with the painter. What is Maruta?

The child maruta is sick...

GX on the phone.. looking for GK.

GX hears sounds in her basement and investigates.

Xie Yue has a breakdown and wants to shoot Junko, "She's Japanese!"

Guan Kai tells Xie Yue not to shoot Junko, Xie Yue is enraged and points the gun at GK.

Guan Xue immediately kneels and hugs Xie Yue's legs, begging her not to shoot Guan Kai, and that Guan Kai is her only brother.

GX: I only have him as my brother.

GX manages to overpower Xie Yue and wrench the gun out of her hands, GX: I told you since day one to stay away from my brother!

Xie Yue: 我放过他，谁放过我？

SZWu admits that he is not SZW. Tian Xiaojiang: you and your bro aren't afraid of death?

Tian Xiaojiang: was it worth it?

Txj: don't bow to me, we're in the same grave now.

SZW and lao qian sees airplanes and smoke(?)

Ep 29 -> Junko got hit by a car (I think under GX's orders...)

SZWu and guys are brought somewhere, dunno where.

Hu Bin that bastard is planning something.

SZWu and co are sprinkled with some poisonous powder... Fuck...

There's a kill order for escaped prisoners in the southern suburb.

GX: this is a kill order.

SZW looks for SZWu amongst the dead people... Wondering why the Japs are wearing face masks.

Txj and SZWu are alive, as well as the child and Mr. Shi.

Tzj and SZWu's camaraderie.... Txj died... Oh god...

SZW erects a cenotaph? For txj

SZW is infected and collapses, guan Xue is panicked afbsjsbdbdj

I really love GX rn hehehe

GX: why is there no doctor??

GX in GX fashion draws her gun hehe

SZW is sick in the hospital.

Xie Yue is interrogated by Pan Yue

Ep 30 -> SZW is awake and talks to Asano and GX

Pan Yue calls GX, saying SZW helped the prisoners escape. GX knows it's Pan Yue

Xie Yue is almost rped, GX arrives in time and stops it. GX is so shuai...

GX: you can hit him, just not the head.

Xie Yue beats up that guy.

Guan Xue has flashbacks of her uncle... GX is smoking. And threatens the prime ministers kid, and puts off her cigarette on the kid hahaha

Xy: thank you for saving me.

GX: thank you for letting go of my brother.

GX: you're so fierce, like me when I was young

GX: are u sleeping with him?

Xie Yue checks SZW pills.

Hu Bin gives her deer tendon soup

GX Fav brand; lumingchun

GX: what r u thinking?? Am I your wife? Do I have to eat it? If there's nothing important, don't come to my office, okay.

SZW knows Xie Yue tempered with his medicine bottle.

Ep 31 -> shit, Hu Bin entered GX's house... How can GX be so careless...

SZW is testing Xie Yue..

SZW: let's have lunch together. GX is smiling.

GX in a green dress... So pretty. GX eating...

GX: tell me what's this about. Hongmen Banquet?

She smiles and drinks wine

GX: I was also investigated before, By Mr. Jin.

I have to investigate you, for my sense of security.

SZW is sarcastic about it.

GX smiles so prettily.

GX: if you dare okay tricks, I won't let you go.

GX returns home, drinks scotch, and hears an intruder...

Hu Bin his Guan Kai's gun... Wants to blackmail GX... Fuck

Hu Bin... Confesses, GX dgaf. So hu Bin threatens her with Guan Kai.

GX: (to Hu Bin) stop! Or I'll kill you!

GX: Guan Kai, tell me honestly, did you kill the jap man that night?

GX: can you kill him? Can you even beat him?

GX brings a few people to ransack(?) Hu Bin's place(?)

GX sees pictures of her in Hu Bin's house... And she reads his diary.. it's pretty touching actually? Not really argh

Guan Xue suddenly says: Marry me. The day after tomorrow.

Hu Bin is ecstatic.

GX wants to pretend to marry him and asks SZW to investigate where the gun is...

Guan Kai: My sis can't marry him!! I'll turn myself in to the Japs!

Guan Xue is huddling in blankets and trembling. Aerhfhfhfjdjdh

Guan Xue wearing sunglasses riding a bike.