#i always have some of my elementary work at hand with me (not photographed) the fake manga I used to make

[dazzelmethat]

HOLD UP!! I'M FEELING SO INCREDIBLY NOSTALGIC FOR MY HIGH SCHOOL ART..

I frequently go through my old deviantart for prompt ideas

I WAS SO SO SO MEAN TO THESE PIECES THINKING IF I THOUGHT OF ONLY THEIR FAULTS I COULD GET BETTER FASTER.

Even art from middle school when I actually was a child I'm still so mean...

Why did hate make me feel like I could progress faster??

I wish I could be nicer to the parts of myself that once was..

If they were real they'd forgive me I think.

[lovesuhng]

Wines and confessions - Johnny Suh

couple: johnny x fem!reader genre: fluff; a little bit sugestive; friends to lovers sinopse: in the middle of a drinking some wine, your friend makes it very clear why none of his dates work out

Johnny was at home, after a long day at the photography studio where he worked. It was Friday, he was ready to rest after taking a long shower, until he received a message from his best friend.

“You must be very tired, but I got some wine from the parents of one of my students. Do you know how rare it is for me to receive gifts at work? I’ll be at your apartment in 40 minutes.”

Johnny laughed at your message. No matter how tired he was, he always had time for you. You were a teacher at a private school, you taught some classes in elementary and high school. If Johnny's routine was tiring, your routine was even crazier. The two had been friends since they were teenagers, which didn't stop Johnny from feeling something more.

A short time later, they were lying on the couch in the man's apartment. Johnny was on his first glass, he liked to taste the wine, drinking it little by little, as well as researching more about it. You, on the other hand, were on your second glass, didn't understand anything about wine and drank any alcoholic drink as if it were water. You talked about various things, you about your students, Johnny about the various editorials he had to do this week.

“And how was your meeting with that model you photographed last month?” You said taking a sip of your wine. Johnny always went on these dates to try to forget the feelings he had for his friend, but he always found himself comparing his date with you and couldn't move on to anything beyond a simple dinner. On the one hand, he felt uncomfortable when you asked about it, but on the other hand he knew that you weren't to blame for anything, because he didn't have the courage to talk about his feelings.

“Same old thing. It was just dinner. I’m not in the mood to date right now.” Unless it's with you, that's what he wanted to say.

“It's not because I'm your friend, but you're one of the hottest guys I know, independent, polite, funny. Why are you still alone? I already know! There must be someone in that little heart and you don't want to tell me who it is. Wants to know? I'm going to introduce you to a friend of mine who is a teacher. She’s beautiful and you two would look great together!” You saw your friend roll his eyes. “Don’t even make that face! In addition to being beautiful, she loves photography. Hey!"

“I think you’ve had drink too much.” Johnny took the glass from your hands, making you stop blabbering about his love life. The man took advantage of his height, lifted the cup and laughed at his frustrated attempts to get the cup back.

“Give it back Johnny! I didn’t even get halfway through the bottle.”

“And you’re already talking nonsense, imagine if you put an end to it.”

With the jump you made to retrieve your precious wine, you ended up losing your balance and were about to fall, if it weren't for Johnny's big hands, which stopped your fall and made your bodies very close and your faces inches away from distance.

The exchange of glances was intense.

You had already become so close to your friend, but you didn't know if it was because you had been drinking, you had a huge desire to kiss him. You looked at his lips and found them very kissable, his honey eyes exuded love and desire.

It was the wine's fault.

The heart beating faster had to be the wine's fault.

You internally asked him to break his gaze, but he couldn't do it. In fact, any opportunity he had to be close to you was taken advantage of by the man.

“Do you want to know why I can’t date other people?” Johnny asked. The man's deep voice was leaving you stunned. You just nodded.

Johnny knew he was going to take an important step and that perhaps he could change the course of the friendship you had, but he knew that he had to do that at that moment. Then, he ended the minimum distance he had between you, bringing his lips to yours. Despite being a little confused, you surrendered to your best friend's kiss. It was all so new for both of them, but at the same time so right.

“I'm glad you didn't push me or hit me.”Johnny said with a smile on his face as soon as he stopped kissing you. “And don’t blame it on the wine because I know more than anyone that you need a lot more than that to get drunk.” He continued when he realized you were about to say something and ended up taking the words out of your mouth.

"Wow. It’s scary how you know me so well” You responded by patting your friend’s shoulder and realized you were still in his arms. “Since you can’t let go of me, could you at least tell me when you started liking me?”

Johnny was embarrassed, which was rare to happen, but he let go of him and placed the glass of wine that was still in his hand on the kitchen table. “I don’t know, I think I’ve always been in love with you, it just took me a while to understand that.”

"Can I confess something?" Johnny just nodded. “I loved knowing that your dates didn’t work out.”

"Oh really?" Johnny once again approached you and placed his hands on your waist. “So why did you always throw me at your friends?”

“I don't know, maybe seeing you with other people would take that feeling away from me." You said, placing your hands on Johnny's shoulders again.

“And what is this feeling?”

“That I’m in love with you.” It was time for you to kiss your best friend. If the first kiss was sweet, this one was much more urgent and hot. Johnny led you to the couch, bringing you with him as he sat down. Your nails lightly scratched the man's muscular arms.

Johnny's big hands, which had previously stopped you from falling to the floor, now fervently smoothed your thighs, which had been exposed because your dress had ridden up as soon as you positioned yourself on Johnny's lap. When the man's warm lips touched your neck, leaving a few kisses there, a signal alerted you and you quickly moved away from the man, leaving him confused, sitting on the couch completely out of breath. 

“I better go, before something happens in this apartment” You said, collecting your belongings and heading to the door of Johnny’s apartment. “Oh, you better cancel your plans tomorrow night if you have any.”

"Why?" Johnny asked confused.

“Because we have a date. Be ready at 8pm.”

“Shouldn’t I invite you?” Johnny approached you once again, who was already outside his apartment holding the door.

“What year are you, John?” Johnny smiled and pulled you in for another kiss, but you surprised him by placing your hand on his lips. "No! Kiss now only after the date. See you tomorrow." You pushed Johnny into the apartment and closed the door. The man didn't understand what was happening, he just laughed at your behavior, because it didn't even seem like 5 minutes ago you were making out like crazy on the living room couch. It didn't take long for the doorbell to ring again. Johnny opened it without checking who it was, but was surprised when you threw yourself into his arms.

“Okay, I won’t be able to wait until tomorrow. I want one more kiss.” Johnny let out a hearty laugh, the kind where he threw his head back and left you completely in love.

More wines and confessions

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Something I've been wondering since a lot of the older cats tend to get cast younger and younger recently - are there any performers you could plausibly see as "real" younger versions of those characters?

Anon, that is actually a super interesting question (and I hope I'm understanding what you're asking for; apologies if I misunderstood - if you are asking whether there are performers who have not played the role but played others and can get away with playing them, honestly I'm not a big proponent of having all super young swings and understudies, and I've spoken at length about that before), but there *are* actually a handful of performers of past (which means that they *were* young when they initially took the role and looked it) and present that I could feasibly see as younger (and by "younger" I mean like more in the 20s) faceclaims or "versions" of my beloved older cats (and that I often will note back too when I'm trying to picture them in my mind).

From what I have heard and seen of them, they also give off more of a younger vibe, either due to the lack of maturity in their voices, or their general dispositions, that I think works well as these characters but younger. Imagine a different bunch of teenagers and gapped teeth babies running around the Junkyard hollering at one another and whining at their parents before *they* became the parents, ahaha.

I can give you some of my favourites to avoid wasting too much space. I can do a Part 2 with Asparagus/Gus, Old D and Grizabella if you're interested:

Skimbleshanks:

Matthew Gould (on his first go around; he aged into it much better the second go - Ross Finnie could technically also take this spot)

Philip Bertioli (and this is a costume thing but his vest always looked too big for him which just amped up the baby vibe)

Giovanni DiGabriele

Hayden Baum (specifically his first go around - that is a baby)

Tyler Keller (who looks *particularly* old photo like in this shot with the filter and expression - slap a black and white or sepia filter over that and tell me that's not an old photograph)

Taylor Scanlan (also *very* baby and *very* pretty*).

(Others for consideration if these don't tickle your fancy: Sandy Rass, Sean McManus, Shaun Henson, Jon-Paul Christensen, Philip Comley, Dann Dunn, Brian O'Muiri, Billy Mahoney, Jarryd Nurden, Park Seong-ryong, Bryan Mottram

Jellylorum:

Catrin Darnell

Susan Powers

Joanna Beck

Lindsay Dyett

Jeanne Montano

Erin James

Annemarie Rosano

(Others: Liz Izen, Louise Tomkins, Bonnie Simmons, Nina Hennessey, Marcy DeGonge, Jennifer Vaden, Thea MacNeil, Lisa-Marie Parker, Carrie Willis, Megan Arseneau, Taila Halford, and Alice Batt. S/O to Pia Douwes who toed the baby line, and nearly all Jellylorums in the Shiki production and a good chunk of the US Tour 5 who are and were - more often than not - quite young and look it)

Jennyanydots:

Stephanie Johns

Lisbeth Brittain

Laura Darkins

Lucinda Shaw

Erica Leigh Hansen

Ellie Nunan

(Others: Mary Trainor, Renée Knapp, Kati Farkas, Jennifer Cohen, Amanda Bay, Laura McCulloch, Melina Charles, Hanny Aden, Alice Redmond, Abigail Dever, Sarah-Marie Maxwell kinda sorta but tbh I think it's the makeup, Eloise Kropp, Maria Briggs - who is like elementary school Jenny -, Emily Jeanne Phillips, Ayumi Kato, and Megan Carton)

[natache]

Ita Rina

First and Forgotten Yugoslav Film Star who provocated Gestapo

Ita Rina was born on 7 July 1907 in the small town of Divača (then Austro-Hungarian Empire, later Yugoslavia, now Slovenia) as Italina Lida Kravanja. She was called Ida Kravanja for short. She was named after a journalist Finzi Haydée, Jewish family friend from Trieste. The first daughter of Jožef a railroad worker and Marija Kravanja, Rina had a younger sister Danica. Shortly after the outbreak of the World War I, the family moved to Ljubljana, where Rina matriculated in 1923. She was not a good student; she repeated the third grade of elementary school. However, her dream was to be an actress.

In October 1926, Slovenski narod (Slovenian People) magazine organized a beauty pageant, and Rina entered the competition. She was crowned Miss Slovenia and was to travel to the final event for Miss Yugoslavia, which was supposed to be held on 20 December 1926 in Zagreb. However, her mother did not want to let her go to Zagreb. After a group visit from the Slovenian delegation, Marija Kravanja relented. Unfortunately, when Rina arrived in Zagreb, the jury was already choosing the most beautiful of three finalists. She was, however, noticed by Adolf Müller, the owner of Balkan Palace cinema in Zagreb. He immediately sent her photographs to German film producer Peter Ostermayer. As her mother did not want to let her go to Berlin, Rina ran away from home.

Her escape was enabled by a family friend, a painter Alojz Malota and his wife Hedvig Šarc. They invited her to come with them on a trip to Austria, and instead she went to Berlin. She has said that she felt very lonely and scared during the train ride and thought about returning home.

“That was my longest and hardest journey. I huddled myself in a corner of a coupe and looked around myself in fear. I only knew few words in German...”

Rina arrived in Berlin in 1927. Shortly after she had her first audition, following which she had classes in acting, diction, dancing.

"They would shine a spotlight on me" she later said "cameras would buzz. There were cables everywhere. Some complete strangers would stare at me, whispering amongst themselves. They told me to scream, to laugh, wave and cry. I think I looked most natural in scenes where I was crying. All I had to do was remember how far away from home I've gone and how I've deceived my mother."

"You don't know how to walk!" a director was yelling. I've dedicated all my strength on walking as gracefully as possible, and I thought to myself "how's it possible that I, who have climbed Triglav thrice, all of sudden am incapable of walking." I must admit, first few steps on film were harder than any danger definitely mountaineering.

After several small film roles in 1927 and 1928, the critics finally noticed her in the 1928 film The Last Supper. The same year, Rina met at a Yugoslav embassy party, her future husband Miodrag Đorđević, a shy engineering student from Belgrade, son of a general director of the Royal Post Office.

He asked her out to dinner in a little more upscale restaurant. What he would find out later is that his students account was not enough to pay for the meal. He went to the phone in an attempted to call a friend who could lend him money. Ita figured out what was going on, and since she was already rich, secretly passed him a few bank notes, to spare him the embarrassment. She always liked him, and they understood each other well.

 

Around that time newspapers in Yugoslavia started to sensationalize her love life, as a counter she published an open letter.

Cenjeni g. urednik!

Vsikdar sem bila ljubeznjiva napram g. dopisniku Vašega lista. Želela sem na ta način izražati simpatije, ki sem jih gojila do “Vremena”. Toda nežentlementski dopis Vašega dopisnika od 15. t. m. je zlorabil to mojo ljubeznivost in me prisilil, da Vas naprošam zaradi istine za uvrstitev naslednjih vrstic: Prišla sem domov na oddih, da se pripravim za bodoče delo, ne pa da se zaljubljam kakor goska. Zaradi tega ne potrebujem nikakih senzacij, zlasti pa ne senzacij, ki gredo preko meja dopustnega. Čudim se prostosti, ki si jo jemlje g. Ambrož, da izmišlja kar imena mojih idealov. Prava senzacija bi bila šele, ko bi g. Ambrož nekoliko srečneje uganil moje ideale. Kar pa piše g. Ambrož, je bilo doslej meni in vsem mojim znancem docela neznano. Odpotovala bom tedaj, ko me pokliče novo delo. Senzacijonalni odhod avtomobilov itd. je prosta glupost. 

Da končam. Žal mi je, da se je edini g. O. Ambrož smatral za najpametnejšega od vseh tukajšnjih novinarjev in da je segel po tako nehvaležnem poslu. Naši javnosti je treba servirati resnico o mojem delu in moji osebi, ne pa glupih izmišljotin. Prejmite g. urednik izraze itd.

Ita Rina.

Her breakthrough into European stardom came after taking a role in a controversial film Erotikon by a Czechoslovakian director Gustav Mahaty. As soon as she read the script about a seduced and then abandoned daughter of a guard of a railroad station, she understood it as her big chance, and she was right.

Erotikon premiered in Prague. Czechoslovakian censors cut out the scene of her giving birth to a child, but the movie garnered great success with film critics and audiences across Europe. At the premiere in Paris in Moulin Rouge and the film goers carried her out of the theatre on their hands.

The films success angered the puritans. Especially the french catholic theologian, abbot Betteleme who wrote: "... First, they lie next to each other, and then one to another ... It is true that the cover hides their figures, but it certainly does not hide their movements... The protagonists are shown in particularly long shots, especially Ita... A viewer can recognize her excitement, then her expression of anxiety mixed with longing, then the pain and at the end... I blush while describing the scenes". He went though streets of Paris tearing down the posters that were plastered all over. That only raised the popularity of the film.

In 1930, Rina acted in three films, most notable being the first talking Czechoslovakian film Tonka of the Gallows, which is often named her best role. Meanwhile, she married Miodrag Đorđević in 1931. Although she had announced her retirement from her film career, but she actually continued her acting until the outbreak of World War II. Her last prewar film was crime drama Zentrale Rio.

The situation in Germany was getting tense, especially for anybody who was considered undesirable which included actors who were foreign. She left Germany on the insistence of the then ambassador of Yugoslavia Ivo Andrić. In 1939, very close to the start of WW2 every time she went to work or went home, there was a man who sat in the car. In the beginning he was very quiet and she thought he was an assistant of the producer and that he might represent some new custume, a way of saying thanks to the actors. And then he spoke. At first there were talks of the superiority of the German race, but later his changes because more apparent. "I argued with him in that car" she told to the operator in the studio and retold him the whole conversation. "How could you have dared, that man is from Gestapo." said the operator. The story was retold to Ivo Andrić, and he ordered her and her husband to urgently leave Germany. The taping of the film was mostly done. That night they packed all of their belongs. In the morning she taped a few leftover scenes and absconded for Belgrade that same day.

"Only on the road I understood what's going on. Tanks everywhere, soldiers."

They went to live in Belgrade. She didn't act as the war was starting to rage and had her first child Milan in 1940 and thee years later a daughter Tijana. Her in-laws disagreed with the marriage to a controversial actress at first. And they had a permanent table for themselves and their friends at the local tavern.

After the bombing of Belgrade they moved to Vrnjačka Banja. Life during wartime was hard and she laboured and sold all of her possessions to keep family fed. She even rescued her husband from jail where he landed after he, in a tavern proclaimed that Hitler will have the same fate Napoleon did in Russia.

They moved back to Belgrade after the end of World War II in 1945. Although she was promised several roles in Yugoslav films, all projects were cancelled and she was treated unfavorably. After receipt of a letter she had written to President Tito, Rina began working as a co–production advisor in Avala Film. But she soon left Avala Film and moved to Lovćen Film.

She returned to the silver screen once, in the 1960 film War, about nuclear war fallout, directed by Veljko Bulajić. This was her last role. She got her role not though a studio, but through her husband asking nicely.

“Before the shooting of the film War began, I was approached by a very likable gentleman, that was the husband of Mrs. Ita Rine Miodrag, and in a very discreet, shy way, asked if we can talk and during that conversation, suggested to cast Ita. Honestly speaking, I have already completely forgotten about her. There was war, and they she didn't work for a very long time. She wasn't listed anywhere in cinematography as an active actress. I remembered her from her films. I suggested we meet. So we met, I don't know where in Zagreb or Belgrade, I cannot remember, but she impressed me. She made a strong impression, of a smart woman, an actress who didn't want to be in a film for no other reason, but to be filmed. She wanted to know about her role. I really liked that, so we made a deal.” 

As she suffered from asthma, Rina and her husband moved to Budva (then Yugoslavia, now Montenegro) in 1967. There, she took care of her husband, who was ill with sclerosis. Rina died on 10 May 1979 from an asthmatic attack during the great earthquake that leveled the capital of Montenegro. She was buried a few days later in Belgrade, in the presence of numerous film artists, admirers, friends and family. Her husband died next year.

Best source is in Slovene here:

[jisungful]

abandoned.

summary :: breaking into an old abandoned elementary school isn’t always the best idea.

pairing :: chenle x gn!reader x jisung (platonic)

genre :: horror/thriller

warnings :: all characters are kind of dumb (first person to die in a horror movie type beat), breaking and entering, implied serial killer!au, murder, blood, descriptions of gore, psychotic actions, character death, all that stuff :D

word count :: 2.4k

a/n :: as I was writing this, I practically scared myself D: also the ending is kinda rushed but oh well

The end of the school year was supposed to be fun, full of surprises, and that one surprise was Chenle clinging onto you like a koala with a tree. Up to this point, you hadn’t thought of how much of an interesting boy he could be--but him giving you physical affection? You could never believe it.

Chenle let go of you before saying, “Come to the library with me and Jisung,” His hair was messy, as well as his uniform shirt. You assumed he just went around hugging other people besides you. He grinned at you, “We’re planning to do something fun as a celebration for the last day of school! Let’s go!” He grabbed your wrist tightly, but not enough to cause circulation loss, at least. You began contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to follow suit of the boy, knowing him. Nonetheless, you were curious.

You both arrived at the library, seeing Jisung already sitting at one of the tables reading a comic. Sitting down in front of the boy, he closed the book once he felt your presences. He greeted with a small smile, you and Chenle doing the same. “Alright listen,” Chenle started, clearing his throat before broadcasting the plan aloud, “We’re going to go to my elementary school—but with a twist.” He grinned before continuing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been there, so it’s abandoned now and I’m pretty sure no one monitors it anymore. Although... it is still intact so we need to break in.”

“Woah, wait, we are not going to break into an elementary school.” you cautioned.

Chenle rolled his eyes and rested his palm on his jawline. “It’s not like it’s haunted or anything. As I said, no one monitors it anymore--you guys just aren’t fun.”

Jisung clasped his hands together before letting out a sigh, “I thought you were joking at first and just wanted to go and play on the playground or something. But seriously?” He shuddered slightly, subconsciously flipping the pages of the comic he was reading earlier. You nodded at him before returning your gaze back on Chenle. All that was written on his face was smugness.

“We have to try it once. Think about it! It’ll be fun, you know? It’s like in movies, we just have to be cautious of our surroundings.” Chenle assured.

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You really can’t. It was 3 fucking am and you decided it was a great idea to go along with Chenle (out of everyone else in the world) and his plan to break into his old elementary school just for fun.

You packed your backpack with a few essential items: a flashlight, a few bottles of water, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. You kept it unzipped at the top so they could all fit, keeping your phone in your spacious hoodie pocket. You put on a mask and a beanie to keep yourself covered in case of security cameras. You put on your backpack, adjusting to the heaviness. If you were being honest, you had this rush of nervousness flowing through your body, the fear of not knowing what will happen to the three of you once you break in and enter the abandoned building. Nonetheless, you head to your front door to walk to Chenle’s house as the three of you decided to go to beforehand. Step by step, your body grew warmer as anxiety rose. It hadn’t hit you that you’d never done this before--you were always the type to stay in and not go out doing reckless activities; but here you are, doing that exact thing.

Immediately as you stepped on Chenle’s rug that was placed in front of the door, it opened, him now in front of you. He moved aside for you to enter the place. “You got everything?” He questioned and you nodded. “Jisung’s not here yet, so I guess we have to just wait.”

You both sat on his leather couch, staring down at the empty mug with thoughts roaming your brain. It wasn’t breaking in that was scaring you--but the thought of getting caught and living with the guilt that you had done something illegal was. Attempting to engage in conversation, you spoke, “How did you even come up with this idea?”

Chenle chuckled lightly, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. “It just came to my head out of nowhere, I guess.”

Hearing the sound of knocking on the door, you stood up abruptly, Chenle following after. You both headed to the front and opened it for Jisung. “You have everything, right? We should go now.” Jisung nodded and let out a breath he was previously unknowingly holding.

You three went inside of Chenle’s car, with Chenle driving and Jisung and you seated at the back. You took off your backpack and placed it on the floor of the car, the weight removed gave you sudden relief on your shoulders. Jisung plugged his phone into the aux cord and played soft, lo-fi music to soothe the nerves that were getting to you unknowingly.

You sighed, laying your head on the headrest of the car seat, looking out the window. It was a rather peaceful night despite what you were going to do in a couple of minutes—stars beginning to deem visible across the vast, dark sky, with only a few cars passing by in which you could count with your fingers. That was when you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, and you turned to see Jisung staring at you. You furrowed your brows and muttered a ‘what’. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he breathed out, fear clearly laced in his voice.

You bit your lip. “It was Chenle’s idea, we can blame him for all of this.” you joked.

The elementary school definitely does not look as you expected--before coming, you imagined it to be completely abandoned, having growing moss on the walls, windows that were broken or punched, or even having “caution” tape around it. You guess it only happens in movies. But this school looked almost normal, for some reason, with only overgrown trees around it as the leaves fell on it. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that it looks fairly approachable and safe to go into.

“This is crazy, it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Let’s go!” Chenle beamed. You looked at Jisung for a moment, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod before putting on your heavy backpack and exiting the car as he did as well.

The three of you stood outside of the back door of the building, looking around for any suspicious cameras though found none. You pulled your mask up further before checking on Chenle and how he’s putting up with his attempts at opening the door. “I can’t find any key,” he grunted. You offered him the crowbar that was hanging off your backpack, and to your luck, it worked on opening the door. Jisung let out a surprised sound as he stood behind you.

The back door led to the gym in which you stood. It was empty, except for the lone basketball that sat in the middle of the vast room. The lights didn’t work, so you came to the conclusion that it would be best to use your flashlights, instead. You followed Chenle as he was the only person that knew the way around this place. He went toward the door which led to the hallway of the school, which connected to the many classrooms. The atmosphere felt terribly dismal, and it didn’t leave you with a good feeling. You couldn’t help but focus on the smell that hadn’t been freshened up for years.

“This is my 4th-grade classroom,” He slid open the door and across the room were sprawled out desks and chairs--it was like a forest, avoiding all of these objects just to get to the other side was like a journey in itself. In the back of the room were stapled class pictures of old students and teachers on a corkboard. Chenle desperately searched for the photo with him in it, searching across what seemed like around 10+ photographs. “Ah, here’s me!” He said, gesturing for you and Jisung to come to him. He pointed to his 10-year-old self, shining a flashlight on it to show it clearer. “It’s crazy how it’s still here.”

“You were cute,” Jisung commented.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” Chenle scoffed jokingly. He removed the photo from the corkboard and shoved it neatly into the small pocket of his backpack, thinking of showing it to his parents later today once he figures out a good enough excuse to where he found it.

You yawn, eyes getting tired minute by minute, second by second as you continue your journey throughout the huge school. You entered room 3B, which seemed like a music room—chairs stacked in 5’s, music sheets laying on the scattered desks, posters of musicians and guitar and piano chords on the walls begging to fall down to the ground as the tape holding it up collects dust. A piano lies near the corner of the room and Chenle sits on the bench that stood in front of it. He plays a mellow tune as you and Jisung look at all of the instruments that were isolated in a metal storage cabinet. You take out a recorder and try to remember the notes of the infamous ‘Hot Cross Buns’—however your memorization skill isn't the best and you end up with random noises. Jisung laughs at your attempt and you laugh back, putting the instrument back to where it was placed. You head towards Chenle, who was heavily concentrated on playing the song that was on the sheet on the music desk. You listen to the pretty sounds until he stops for a moment.

“It sounds beautiful,” you say.

Chenle chuckles before standing up and ruffling his hair, “I know, I’ve been playing practically since birth, you know?”

You both stood there, the moonlight reflecting on your skin through the thin glass. You turn your head, “Where’s Jisung?” You had thought the boy would follow you when you were walking toward Chenle—but he didn’t. There was no third shadow moving alongside yours and the boy beside you; the atmosphere grew cold. You beckoned Chenle to come with you before walking towards the classroom door to once again enter the hallway.

“Jisung! Are you an idiot? Where are you?” Chenle shouted out loud but there was no voice that followed. A curse word was muttered, you begin scrambling out of the music room to find the 5’11 boy that suddenly vanished into thin air. You knew how afraid he was during the car ride here and you never thought you would leave him alone like this. You stuck by Chenle’s side as you searched through most of the classrooms in the building.

No sign.

You were startled as you unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet, shining your flashlight down the stairwell that was somehow built in the tiny room. “Chenle, come here,” you beckoned. He rushed to you quickly; his eyes widened once he saw what was hidden inside the room.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he chuckled, “Maybe Jisung went in here, but for what?” You shrugged at the boy’s assumption, furrowing your brows before stepping in. Jisung was always curious about the world—you might think it’s his first life and he’s fascinated by every small detail that the universe could give him. Though, you would never expect that he would be curious about this particular stairwell.

A horrid smell hit you both once you reached halfway down the staircase. You muttered a curse word, “Fuck. It smells rotten in here,” Chenle agreed, nodding at you. You continued your way down to see Jisung’s body lay flat on the floor like a ragdoll. You took in a sharp breath as you quickened your steps down to see six other bodies lay in front of him. You rapidly shout out the boy’s name as you frantically attempt to shake him awake, wishing in the back of your mind that he hadn’t ended up like the bodies that were obviously sitting beside you.

Jisung groaned, sitting right side up as he held his head. “What happened to you?!” You question, helping him stand up. He looked around the room once more before taking two steps back when he watched the dead bodies lay on the floor.

He shook his head rapidly as his hands held onto your wrist. “I-I just saw that and I don’t know what happened but…” he shut his eyes. “I should’ve stayed with you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” You hear footsteps nearing you, both of your heads turn to the sound.

“Jisung!” You yell out. You froze once you see crimson flow out of his neck. Your eyes follow the holder of the knife’s arm to his face slowly. You stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Chenle, what the fuck are you doing?!” you breathed out.

Chenle tilted his head back with a slight close-lipped smile, enigmatic. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Jisung’s blood drip, his arms holding onto what he thought was his best friend. “It’s so fun doing this!” he giggled, eyes crinkling through his smile. He pulled out the knife before quickly stabbing it back inside Jisung’s neck. “Is little Jisung whimpering? I’m just playing with you!” His psychotic laughter soon filled your ears and your breath quickened once you watched as Chenle stabbed him in the stomach laying on top of Jisung, a dark red pours onto the floor steadily. You wanted to look away but your body could do nothing but be full of shock.

Chenle’s head jerked toward your direction. You gulped as he stood up to walk toward you with an innocent smile. Once he cornered your back to the wall, he dragged the knife covered in blood along your jawline. You winced as the sharp blade cut through your delicate skin, you clutched onto nothing making your knuckles turn white. “P-please…” you whisper.

His smile dropped once the knife entered the side of your torso. “Now, you two can be with me forever.”

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon: Let’s break up on the 30th of February

This work, 我们 2月30日号分手吧, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR ]

Every failed prank pulled on Victor has only served to embolden you. Once again, you’ve come up with an idea on how to challenge him.

“Victor. After giving it much thought, I've decided to break up with you on the 30th of February.” Exercising your acting skills, you bite your lower lip, standing before him with a pitiful expression. Your eyes are welling with tears as you pretend to be torn between reluctance and resoluteness.

“Mm,” Victor responds simply.

Without lifting his head, he circles some data on your proposal with a red pen, then draws a cross.

Hold on, why is this situation turning out different from what you imagined? Wasn’t he supposed to tug on your hand, begging you not to leave with reddened eyes? Turns out the television dramas lied!

You gripe, pinching his ear. “You actually responded with just a ‘mm’!”

“What else?” He creates some distance between himself and the desk, giving you more space to move. Resigned, he covers his hand over yours, rescuing his poor ear from your clutches. 

“Do you not love me anymore? As expected, men don’t know how to treasure what they’ve obtained!” You lunge at him, and the chair swivels backwards along with this action. Fortunately, Victor holds you before you fall.

“Didn’t you say it yourself?” After keeping you steady, he brings you into his arms.

Enraged, you give him glare, climbing up from his body and giving him an angry stomp on the foot. “Who was the one who said he’d never leave me? Now that I want a break up, you aren’t even trying to make me stay.”

Victor’s brows scrunch up in pain. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know that the 30th of February doesn’t exist?” 

Seeing that your plot has been unravelled, you chuckle in embarrassment. Trying to placate him, you nuzzle into his arms. “Heheh, Teacher Victor is really smart!”

He encircles his arm around your waist. As though he’s forgiving a playful child for the umpteenth time, he pinches your waist as a small punishment. “Since a certain someone doesn’t have sufficient IQ, I’ll have to make up for her absence of IQ.”

“Victor, there’s no need for personal attacks!

[ GAVIN ] 

Having an off day from work, the two of you decide to stay at home instead of heading out.

He’s currently reading a book while you’re scrolling on your phone as usual. All of a sudden, you come across a pretty interesting prank, and decide to use it on Gavin. “Gavin, let’s break up on the 30th of February.

Gavin freezes, the arm around your shoulders loosening by quite a fair amount. He turns his head stiffly towards you, a dash of pain flashing in his dimming amber eyes. “Have you... thought it through?”

“I have. We’ll break up on the 30th of February.” You give him a nod of certainty.

Gavin retracts his right hand which was around you earlier. With his brows tightly knit, he speaks carefully, his tone filled with unease. “Then... before you find someone who can protect you, could I continue protecting you in the meantime?”

Oh my goodness, I forgot how honest this man could be.

“Gav, look at the calendar.” Knowing that you’ve gone too far, you hurriedly tap open the calendar app on your phone.

“I’m not looking! I know that it’s the 26th of February today, and there are four more days till the 30th.” Gavin cranes his neck away, pushing away the phone you’ve brought to him, tone slightly upset. If he had ears on the top of his head, they’d definitely be drooping.

“Why don’t you take another look?” Suppressing your laughter, you push the phone in front of him again.

“I don’t want to!” He squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re going to tell me that it’s a non-leap year, which means there’s a year and four days left. But a year passes by really quickly, and the 30th will arrive soon.”

Oh no, I’ve shocked this poor boy silly.

Not receiving a response from you even after a long time, Gavin opens his eyes to find that you’ve been rendered speechless. He lowers his head with a pout. “Am I wrong?”

With a sigh, you lift his head, giving him a gentle gaze as you explain. “Dear, it’s a non-leap year, but there are only 29 days in February even in a leap year. There will never be a 30th February, which is why I’ll never break up with you in this lifetime.”

“...”

Gavin blinks, reacting only after a long while. Reaching out to encase you back into his arms, his fluffy hair nuzzles the crook of your neck affectionately. “You gave me a scare. In compensation, go stargazing with me tonight.”

[ LUCIEN ]

The bathroom is always the easiest place for inspiration to strike.

“Lucien, I’ve made a decision. I’ll break up with you on the 30th of February.” Your expression is solemn as you step out of the bathroom, looking at Lucien as he reads a book.

The light in Lucien eyes dim, and he sets down the book. With a mellow tone, he asks, “Little Butterfly, are you serious?”

You nod, repeating yourself once more with the acting skills you’ve picked up from actors during filming. “I’m serious. We’ll break up on 30th February.”

Lucien pauses for a moment, then lowers his head in thought. The situation dawns on him, and he releases a sigh, casting you a resigned glance. Tugging on your hand so that you sit in front of the dressing table, he takes out the hair dryer and dries your hair slowly. “Sorry. Even though I know there won’t be a 30th February, I won’t agree to it.”

“Huh? Why not?” You turn your head, speaking loudly amid the whirring wind. “Since you’ve already figured it out, just play along with me!”

He pats your half-dried hair, then turns the hair dryer off. Then, he locates the styling brush and tidies your hair. “I don’t wish for us to be tainted by the term ‘break up’, even if the chances of that happening is zero.”

Lucien is indeed pretty sensitive when it comes to this matter. Realising this, you obediently sit still on the chair like an elementary school kid, leaving him to tidy your hair. “Okay okay, I was in the wrong. I won’t joke about such things next time. Also, I can promise that the butterfly will never leave her painter in this lifetime.”

“Good.” The corners of Lucien’s lips curl upwards, satisfied. 

He picks up the hair dryer again. “Since you’ve admitted your mistake, your punishment will be to make me cream puffs, and accompany me to class tomorrow, in the capacity of a family member.”

[ KIRO ]

Once again catching Kiro red-handed as he steals your snacks, you grab a fistful of his hair angrily. “Kiro, since you’re always taking my snacks, I've decided to break up with you on the 30th of February!” 

“Miss Chips, you saw that post too?” Kiro completely ignores the first half of your sentence. As though lacking even a shred of remorse, he places your favourite snack back in its original position, unable to hide it in time. He stands up obediently, the innocent expression on his face causing your anger to dissipate.

“Huh? You already know about it?”

“Of course. There’s nothing Kiro doesn’t know!” Being able to escape unscathed, Kiro’s imaginary tail wags in the air.

You roll your eyes, chasing him away from the snack cupboard. “Boring.”

“But Miss Chips, let’s not say such things in the future. I’ll admit that I was a little frightened earlier.” He lifts his hand, showing you a gap between his thumb and forefinger. “But just a little.”

“Really! Did I really scare you?” Pleasantly surprised, you turn around. 

Kiro arches his brows in astonishment, then lowers his head as though upset. “Miss Chips, what’s with that excited expression?”

“Ever since we returned from the haunted house, I’ve always wanted to give you a fright, then snap photographs of your expression and make them into memes,” you laugh, taking out a small box from your pocket. Retrieving the lock from within, you clasp it onto the snack cupboard under Kiro’s shocked gaze.

“Miss Chips!!”

On that day, all the citizens within 10km distance had a discussion online about how they heard a man mimicking the voice of superstar Kiro, but his tone sounded so miserable that it was akin to a squealing pig awaiting its demise.

[ SHAW ]

After who knows how many times of facing Shaw’s mockery, you decide to give him a scare by employing a new prank you learnt on the web.

“Shaw, I’m ending our relationship as girlfriend and boyfriend on the 30th of February!” 

Shaw’s eyes flit to you leisurely as he grabs the final chicken cutlet on the coffee table. Revealing a triumphant grin, he begs to be punched as he responds, “Pick another day. There won’t be a 30th February in your lifetime.”

???

Finding this incredulous, your eyes widen. “You little brat - you’re looking forward to the end of our relationship, aren't you?”

“I wouldn't say that I’m ‘looking forward’ to it, but it’s inevitable.” 

He doesn’t explain further, licking the corners of his lips. Then, he takes a sip of mixed cola from your coke. The longer you watch him, the more enraged you are. It’s often said that people tend to lose their rationality when angry. Without much thought, the words in your head leap out of your mouth.

“Fine! Since you’re so certain, I’ll end this relationship with your annoying eggplant head today!”

“Sure.” Shaw feels around in his pocket.

You turn around to leave, never wanting to see this eggplant head ever again.

“Hey, wait.” He suddenly calls you. “I haven’t gotten my household register.”

Puzzled, you turn around with a glare. “A break up is just a break up. Why do you need your household register?”

Shaw stares at you as though he’s looking at a blockhead. “We’re ending our relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend, so isn’t the next step to start our relationship as husband and wife?”

At this stage, it’s difficult to remain angry. Yet, in order to preserve some dignity, you stutter and stammer, face flushed. “W-who even wants to start a relationship as husband and wife with you!”

“Who else but you?” Shaw digs through the drawer, retrieving both of your household registers. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you out of the house. “Let’s go and get a marriage license.”

–

More translated and original works: here

–

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

[dandelionflower]

(Some salt fic september)

Francois DuPont was an artistic school. With talented students varying from designers, to journalists, to DJs, to comic artists and writers. The art room of the school was always the busiest, the loudest, and the favorite room of the school.

So it would make sense for the school to have a yearly showcase. It was called a talent show once upon a time, but eventually the staff and students agreed that ‘talent show’ didn’t suit the talents the students were bringing to the table. Thus, the Francois DuPont showcase was born.

Students worked for months on their piece for the showcase. More than fifty percent of the works in the art room were pieces for the showcase.

It wasn’t mandatory by any means, but most students with a talent in the arts would participate. But with almost all the students participating and some having more than one piece to showcase, the show usually lasted a few days.

Lila, of course, didn’t know any of that so when asked if she was participating in the showcase in a few months, she grinned and said “Of course!”

Alya lit up. “Great! It’s going to be my first showcase too, and I want someone who knows what I’m going through. C’mon, we have to sign up.” And she dragged her into the halls.

Sign up? But it’s in three months. Lila shrugged and allowed herself to be pulled to the sign up sheets.

Alya immediately wrote her name underneath the ‘verbal’ column, putting a ‘journalism’ next to it.

Lila surveyed the options. The easiest thing to fake would probably be photography, so she marked her name under ‘media’ and wrote a ‘photography’ next to it.

“Ooh, photography? What do you take pictures of? Because I know Mari’s been looking for a partner to take pictures of her designs with her.”

Lila bit back a grimace. “Thanks, but I prefer to take pictures of...” Art? Buildings? “Nature. I find that taking pictures of people is narcissistic as a society.”

“Aren’t you a model?” A judgmental voice came from behind her.

“I- well-“ She stuttered.

“It’s completely different, Felix! Lila doesn’t think her photo shoots are art worthy, she’s just doing it as a job.” Alya snapped, throwing an arm out to almost shield Lila from the chill radiating from Felix’s entire person.

“Very well.” Felix stepped around the two and signed his name in perfect cursive beneath Lila’s name and walked away without another word.

“That guy gives me the creeps.” Alix remarked as she scratched her name under the ‘performance’ column, then the ‘piece of art that cannot be moved’ section.

“And he’s doing photography too! Don’t worry Lila, there’s no way he’s better than you.” Alya grabbed her arm reassuringly and began walking with her back to class.

“Yeah, right...” Lila held in a wince as she found her way back to her seat.

Surely photography can’t be that hard.

—

It was that hard.

Lila had waited one week before the showcase to start taking pictures on her phone. She walked to the park and snapped a few pictures, called it a day, and went home.

They were terrible. Blurry, ugly, terrible.

The next thing she tried was looking up stock images and photoshopping the watermark off.

She was awful at photoshop.

Finally, she resorted to her escape plan.

“Sorry, Alya. But I completely forgot that I’m volunteering at the elementary school all day on the day of the showcase, and I can’t just cancel on them. I’m so sorry.”

“Girl, it’s no problem! Marinette told me that the showcase is going to go on for four days. We’ll just reschedule your slot. It’s no problem at all.”

“Great.” She muttered through gritted teeth. “See you then.”

...crap.

She had only one plan now.

And it was risky.

—

Lila walked into class on Monday, prepared for her showcase.

She explained to Alya that when she explained what was going on to the leader of her organization, they gave her a rain check.

“I’m just so thankful.” She brushed away a tear. “I really wanted to make sure I could see everyone’s talents.”

“That’s so sweet!” Rose cooed. “I can’t wait to see your pictures either!”

“I just hope they correctly portray the beauty of my subject...” Lila pressed a hand to her chest in modesty.

“Students, I need all of the media students to come to the art classroom with your flash drives and cameras.” Miss Bustier put her phone down and smiled. “And anyone who paired with a media student for their talent please also join the students in the art room.”

Lila stood and gave everyone a hug. “Wish me luck!”

She noticed Sabrina stand as well and accept a half hearted hug from Chloe and a nod of support from Max. Juleka stood too and hugged Rose tight.

“Bye Alya! Wish me luck.” Marinette appeared from seemingly nowhere and hugged Alya tight. “And don’t be worried about your presentation. We’ll find some time to rehearse before tomorrow.”

“Thanks girl. Look after Lila for me? She’s just as new as I am.”

Marinette’s eyes darkened for just a second, but she quickly broke into a grin. “No problem. And don’t be worried, Lila. I’m sure your photos are just unimaginable.”

“Thanks Marinette. That’s just so sweet of you.” They linked arms and waltzed out of the room.

The moment they were out of eye shot of any of their classmates, they stepped aside.

“You don’t even have pictures, do you?” Marinette growled.

“What do you mean Marinette? Of course I have pictures.” She smirked. Or at least, I will in just a minute.

—

The art room was bustling and chaotic. Perfect for a camera or flash drive to go missing.

Marinette was bombarded by a group of kids from Felix’s class.

“Ready to see the product of our hard work?” A girl with two dark buns on the top of her head asked.

“I hope so.” She gave them a bashful smile.

Lila stopped paying attention. She had a goal in mind.

Her eyes landed on an expensive looking camera sitting on a desk at the side of the room. A sitting duck.

With a side glance for witnesses, Lila walked right by the camera and slipped the memory card right out and into her awaiting palm.

With her goal met, she sat primly in her chair, waiting for them to be called to the stage.

“Alright, photographers, models, actors, directors!” The art teacher stood. “Let’s go!”

Lila skipped up to him, a look of concern on her face. “Sir?”

“Yes Lila?”

“My camera broke on my way here and all I have left of it is my memory card; is there still a way for me to present my photos?”

“Of course there is. Don’t you worry a bit.”

“Perfect!” She grinned.

Once backstage, each student needed to give the teacher their SD cards or cameras and wait to be called onstage to describe their works to the audience.

Lila spared a quick glance towards the onlookers. Talent scouts of every kind were sitting in plush, reserved seats, notebooks and pens at the ready.

She was the first one up, the first one they would see and, unless she used all of her charisma and improvising skill, the first one they would forget.

“...and now, Lila Rossi with her photography!”

Lila strutted out to the greetings of applause.

“Hello, and let me just say I am so honored to be here today, especially considering that a year ago I wasn’t expected to be able to walk to school every day. Photography was really the only thing that got me through the day.”

A murmur of pity rippled through the crowd.

“Pictures like this one.” She pressed the clicker and a picture appeared on the screen behind her.

A picture of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, mid-twirl in a beautiful hand-made dress.

Lila heard Alya gasp.

“I wanted to show simultaneously the mundanity of walking and the undeniable splendor of it. My dear friend Marinette had some designs she was willing to model for me to help achieve my goal. Marinette, come on out!” She held a hand out, daring Marinette to come out from where she was waiting to go next along with her other friends.

Felix stood behind her with a look of horror and disgust on his face; and a particularly fancy camera hanging around his neck. A very familiar camera.

“No? Okay then.” She turned back to the crowd. “She’ll be out with a different group; Mari doesn’t want me to have to share the spotlight, isn’t she sweet?”

The crowd applauded and Lila continued making up technical terms and thought processes for each photo, all of which were of Marinette in different designs.

“Thank you.” She bowed deep before walking off the stage.

Now to hold her breath and hope that Marinette, Felix and all their friends were too chicken to call her out onstage.

—

“Now, with their short film; ‘solving love,’ please welcome Bridgette Cheng, Claude Lambert, Mercury Bernard, Allegra Harthorn, Felix Culpa, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Hey everybody!” A boy with brown hair and a blue striped shirt grabbed the mic and shouted. “How are we doing today?”

A scattered amount of applause.

“Nice! I’m Claude, and this is Bridgette.”

The girl with the buns waved.

“We were the main idea folks for this video; but the idea only came after the filming.”

Bridgette grabbed the mic. “We asked out friends if we could film them, and then a few weeks ago, we reviewed the film and noticed something... interesting.”

“Allegra here,” a girl with a long blonde braid waved, “did the music and Mercury,” a boy with dark glasses and a green beret, “did the narration. You’ll be seeing more of them soon. My cousin Mari,” Marinette waved, “and Felix are the main subjects of the film. You would have seen more of them, but for some reason Felix’s memory card went missing.”

Lila swallowed, this wasn’t great. The seeds of dissent were planted and now she had to risk either spinning another fake story or hoping that it all went well.

It’s not like they had any proof though; she should be fine.

“Anyway, here’s ‘Solving Love.’”

They all stepped to the side and the video began with a smooth piano.

“Love.” The screen showed couples going up to Andre’s and sharing ice cream. “The answer to everything. To ourselves, to the meaning of life, to the questions we cannot ask.”

“But how? How do we get from complete strangers, to people so close they are the same person?” The video changed to a showing of Marinette and Felix shaking hands, both with sardonic smirks. “People rarely get to see the entire process of when people fall in love; there are always pieces missing, hidden moments only for the people in question to recall. Love is left for the investigator to discover for themselves, when the time is right.”

“But maybe,” it showed Marinette talking animatedly, as Felix yawns beside her, “maybe one day, we’ll be lucky enough to see most of the picture.” Felix’s eyes droop and his head falls to rest atop Marinette’s, in the beginnings of a nap. Marinette flushes red.

The rest of the video shows the stages of Marinette and Felix’s relationship, from sarcastic rivals, to peers, to friends, to partners. The narrator described different relationships and how love is a constant through all of them.

The video showed Marinette dancing, twirling in a brilliant dress as Felix kneels and snaps pictures. “Ah, but is this all of it?” They lean down for a swift kiss. The image pauses there. “The full picture? Or is it only a snapshot,” the screen lights up white, “a minor clue, to solving love?”

The auditorium was quiet for what seemed like minutes. Then, the room burst into uproarious applause; a standing ovation.

Lila growled as she turned to sulk and maybe get her makeup so she could fake an injury and get some pity points to heal her bruised ego.

She ran face first into the grey suit of Mr. Damocles.

“Oh, hello sir.” She beamed. “Is there a problem?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Yes Miss Rossi, there is. Did you take those pictures of Miss Dupain-Cheng? Because that video tells a different story.”

“Yes sir, I swear it.”

“You swear it, huh? Well you best come with me to the office. Miss Dupain-Cheng and her friends will join us when they’re done.”

“What?”

“Miss Rossi, you are accused of stealing Mr Culpa and Miss Dupain-Cheng’s creative work. We will be calling your mother to discuss this.”

Back on stage the crowd of students and talent agents alike had taken to shouting questions to the group of students.

[kamilefm]

✿ * · (  cemre baysel  ,  cis woman  ,  she/her   )   a  little  birdy  told  me  kamile “kam” aksakal  just  moved  to  sunset  hills  .  have  you  met  them  yet  ? they  look  somewhere  around  24 ,   if  i  had  to  guess  !  pretty  sure  i  heard  them  driving  down  the  street  playing  i like you (a happier song) by  post malone ( ft. doja cat )  ,  they  sounded  a  little  pitchy  but  they  had  the  spirit  !  must  be  their  favorite  or  something  .  hey  …  it  looks  like  they  just  moved  into  midnight park  .  have  you  heard  about  what  they  do  for  a  living  ?  someone  told  me  they’re  a  vet tech  ,  but  who  knows  if  that’s  even  true  .  guess  we’re  just  gonna  have  to  wait  and  see  .  nervous  ? maybe  you  should  be  .  sunset  speaks  just  posted  about  them  …  apparently  they’re  RESIDENT  ID  TBA ?  between  you  and  me  ,  i  think  that  might  spark  some  things  in  the  community  …  but  what  do  i  know  !  you  guys  might  get  along  just  fine  !  (   cherry  ,  she/her  ,  29  ,  est  .  )

hello everyone! my name is cherry, i’m 29, live in the eastern time zone, and go by she/her pronouns. i’ve been rping on tumblr for 10+ years now (ouch, showing my age), and after taking about a year break i’m back in the game! i enjoy things like sailor moon, kpop, anything sanrio related and reading (if you have any spicy romance recommendations hit ya girl up). this is kam, and her intro will probably be a little shorter than celine because she is a newer muse for me. i’m still in the plotting stage of her so i’m hoping this intro helps me nail her down a bit more.

about kam // *

kam was born in ankara, turkey on august 16 1998 to a single mother, hazal aksakal, only 19 years old. not long after she was born her grandmother and mother moved to the united states, and kamile spent the majority of her adolescence in cincinnati, ohio.

growing up kam always had an affinity for animals. she had squirrels eating out of her palm before she was five years old. her mother and grandmother always insisted on having large dogs to protect them, and she grewup with everything from bullmastiffs to a particularly protective doberman.

extremely intelligent kam was always top of her class. elementary school, and middle school were nothing her photographic memory couldn’t handle. by the time she was to go into high school she had gotten a scholarship to an excellent private school in beverly hills, california.

growing up poor had never bothered kam and had never really been a problem in ohio, but in beverly hills, money was everything. even though she graduated in the top 20% of her class she was bullied for her second hand clothes and last seasons shoes. her self confidence has never really recovered.

after high school she enrolled in the california healing arts college in california where she studied to become a vet tech, graduating at the top of her class, before moving to sunset hills almost a year ago, working at paws & claws.

kam’s personality // *

positive traits ; adaptable, gregarious, altruistic, optimistic, amiable, magnanimous.

negative traits ; fanciful, stoic, impatient, overcritical, quick tempered, gullible.

[linopetal]

photograph. chapter one

pairing : na jaemin x reader

genre : angst , fluff , best friends to almost lovers , hanahaki disease au

word count : 5k

warnings : heavy cursing , mentions of blood , throwing up , dying , death

synopsis : so you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans holding me closer 'til our eyes meet you won't ever be alone

note : this heavily based off of ed sheeran’s song photograph ! ( it will make more sense in the later chapters ! ). this is also based on jaemins love for photography since he is always taking pictures of the members !

one.

At nine years old , Jaemin was gifted his first camera by his mother on Christmas morning. His mother always saw the look inside his eyes when they landed on the nice and expensive cameras in the mall. He always found nature in itself so pretty. His mother decided that a white disposable camera would perfectly fit him for his Christmas present. “ Jaemin it’s time for you to open your gift “ , his mother said in a soft voice. He remembers anxiously running up to the colorfully light christmas tree and bending down to pick up a present with his name largely written over it in black ink . The wrapping paper had pretty white snowflakes and snowmen printed all over. Quickly grabbing the present , he ripped open the box only to reveal a camera. He remembers this warm and happy feeling flowing throughout him. Most children his age would want toys and things like that , but that was not Jaemin. He didn’t see what was so important about toys that you would soon get rid of once you found a new and cooler looking toy. Grabbing the white camera , he hugged his mom. “ Thank you Mom! This is my favorite gift “ , he said smiling.

At ten years old , Jaemin was taking pictures of different things he ran across of during his walks in the neighborhood park. He vividly remembers taking a walk in the near by park that was recently built in his neighborhood. He stumbled across this little pond. Jaemin was fond of animals. Whether it be a dog or a goose , it didn’t matter to him , he thought they were all such beautiful creatures. He quickly grabbed his camera out of his back pocket to take a picture of the ducks swimming in the pond before they swam off. Jaemin wrote on the palm of his hand , “ Pond. Nice spot for photos “ as a reminder to come back to that exact spot another time to take photos. He still had the same old disposable white camera that he was gifted one christmas ago.

two.

At fifteen years old , Jaemin had just entered the ninth grade. Jaemin was always a quiet student. He didn’t interact with many students. Though , Jaemin was popular amongst some because of his looks and nice personality , he preferred to stay out of the crowd. He never liked being the center of attention in any context. He was fine with his one and only friend , Renjun. Huang Renjun had been Jaemin’s best friend since the second grade. They had met during the first day of school. Jaemin’s mom had made him a small creeper necklace.

Renjun had notice it and engaged in a very long conversation with him about how Minecraft was the best game to ever exist. And since that day they were inseparable. Renjun was basically Jaemin’s brother. He was always invited to family events. It was the same for Renjun aswell. They did everything together. Jaemin was very appreciative of Renjun. He had never had a friend like him. They stuck together throughout elementary.

Jaemin had just moved to a new neighborhood. His mom had recently got promoted to a higher placement in the company she worked at so they had to move a little ways over to be closer to her job. Renjun’s parents worked at the same branch of the company that Jaemin’s parents worked at meaning that they both would still go to the same school.

During the first day of nineth grade , Jaemin had decided to take his new green disposable camera with him , which he bought with money he saved up from doing chores. He bought it with him for on his way back to his house from school. There was a pretty park and he just felt like he had to capture the beauty he felt it held.

Jaemin was intimidated easily by people , though he was careful with the emotions he showed. He was to busy placing his camera into his backpack to notice the visibly taller and scary looking guys approaching him “ Hey what is that in your hand ? “ , the middle one asked sarcastically. “ Uh uhm its just a uh camera “ , Jaemin said nervously. “ Oh well mind if I see it for a second ? “ , the middle one asked with a fake smile on his face. Jaemin got a weird feeling in his stomach yet he was scared to say no so he simply nodded and complied out if fear of the strong boy. As he place the green camera in the boy’s hand , he heard the two other boys chuckle. Jaemin had attempted to take the camera back out of his hand but he failed in his attempt. Right then and there the middle boy took the camera , threw it on then ground , stomp on it and broke it into pieces. He looked at Jaemin and said , “ Thats what you get for being weird camera boy “, he said. Jaemin was upset. He spent six months saving up money to afford that camera. All the photos he had taken and all the memories stored were simply gone. He held back his tears and then all of a sudden he heard yelling. “ You asshole , why would you do that ? Fuck you , there was no point in that. “ you said angrily. “ Hey, Y/N you better calm down now “ the middle boy said in a mad voice. “ Fuck no “ , you said as you slapped the boy. Jaemin was caught off guard. No one had stood up for him when things like this occurred. Renjun was too much of a coward to stand up , and Jaemin understood that. He watched as you walked up to him and asked him , “ Hey , are you okay? I’m so sorry Jihoon acted that way to you. I’m Y/N by the way. If you want, I could by you a new camera ? “ , you said to him in a worried yet sweet tone. Jaemin was embarrassed. Eyes were on him and you which made him feel weird. You had notice his sudden discomfort due to the people staring and you looked at them and glared. When they turned their heads around you looked back at him with a soft smile. He realized it had been a good 20 seconds and he hadn’t answered you yet. “ Oh uh I’m Jaemin. Thank you so much. You don’t have to buy me a camera. I can just save up some money to buy another one “ , He said. “ Oh no don’t worry. It’s no bother Jaemin! “ , you said in a soft tone. He liked the way you said his name. And ever since then ,you two became best friends.

About a week after the incident that occurred on the first day of school , you and Jaemin had miraculously became friends. In the spam of seven days you both managed to find out you both live right beside each other , you both love peaches , and you both have an addiction to horror movies. You were both practically made to be best friends. From that day on it was you , Renjun , and Jaemin. You all had became best friends. It was you three against the world. You couldn’t ask for better friends.

One day , Jaemin had just woken up on a Saturday morning to the sound of his doorbell ringing multiple times. He thought he was going to catch a headache. He was a little annoyed but his annoyance quickly disappeared when he opened the door to only see you. He smiled so widely while looking at you that he didn’t even notice the item in your hand. Your were so cute , how could he not ? As you walked inside his nice and comfy home , you handed him the small box in your hand. “ What is this Y/N ? “ , he asked. “ Just open it Jaemin , I’m positive you will love it “ , you said smiling. You had a nice smile , he thought. You had known each other for eight months now , why was he thinking such things ? He shook the thoughts away and slowly started to unwrap the box. A camera. No. It wasn’t just any camera , it was a real camera. Not a disposable camera , a real one. He was shocked that you spent so much money on this. But he was beyond happy. “ Y/N , you really didn’t have to you know ? “ he said , still in shock. “ I know but , I wanted to. You love photography and I thought it would be a nice appreciation gift. Plus , when we hung out here a month ago , your mom showed me all the photos you’ve taken. They’re beautiful Jaemin. It’s artwork. So I thought you deserve this kind of camera. “ , you said sweetly to him. Why were you so perfect ? And why were you the most kind hearted and selfless person he had ever met ? And why was he feeling things he had never before ? It was that moment he realized , he had liked you. He didn’t realize it then , but to put it simply , Jaemin was fucked. When he became conscious of how he felt , he only watched those feelings grow stronger.

three.

Junior year had now arose. During sophomore year he met Chenle , Jisung , and Dongyhuck who all became an addition to your now expanded friend group. Jaemin had met them during try outs for the soccer team. He had been acquaintances with Hyuck prior. They had both met in ninth grade biology but they all didn’t become close until sophomore year. You were all inseparable. Friday movie nights were a frequent thing. You loved hanging out with them. But recently, everyone besides you and Jeno , had notice a recent change in Jaemin’s behavior. It had all came about when the two new boys , Mark and Jeno , had transferred to your school the beginning of junior year ( which they quickly became an addition to your friend group ) . The boys didn’t understand why Jaemin always sent Jeno an envious look. Jeno and Jaemin had naturally hit it off when they first had met. Jeno felt understood by Jaemin and Jaemin felt the same exact way. But what Jeno and you failed to realize was that Jaemin slowly had become envious of him in these recent months. The rest of the boys didn’t want to pry on Jaemin because they , themselves , didn’t understand the underlying situation and potential problem. So , they had let it slide due to the well being of their friend group.

Donghyuck had invited the whole group to his house for the usual friday movie night. On Monday , Hyuck sent out a text to the ‘ barbie’s life in the dream house ‘ group chat ( name was Mark’s choice , of course ) the list of food needed and who was to buy what. Donghyuck was never one to care about relatively anything BUT when it came to food he was one specific human being.

“ Did you all get the EXACT food I told you too ? “ , Hyuck said with a raised eyebrow. “ Yes , Yes we did Donghyuck “ , Chenle said. “ And before you ask , I didn’t forget to buy you tteokbokki “ , Jaemin said. “ You’re my favorite Jaemin just so you know “ , Hyuck said , sending a finger heart Jaemin’s way.

When Jaemin saw you walk through the door , he couldn’t help the way his heart had begun to beat so incredibly fast. Jaemin was one to observe every detail of a person. He noticed every small to large detail about you in that moment and he admired it all. He wanted to rush to you and sit right beside you but he saw the way Jeno beat him to it. Jaemin let out a sigh which caused Renjun’s attention. “ Hey you okay Jaemin ? “ , Renjun asked Jaemin. “ Yea uh just stressed “ , he replied. Renjun only nodded , turning away to focus on Chenle who had a bunch of movies in his hands. But Jaemin attempted to move his eyes away from the flirtatious scene infront of him.

“ Hey Jaemin “ , mark said , pulling Jaemin out of his thoughts and trance , “ Did you bring your camera ? We should take a group photo right now like we always do ! “ , mark suggested and everyone cheered. The camera. The one you bought him. You. You. You. Always fucking you. Jaemin shook his heading and grabbed his camera , signaling everyone to gather around. Of course you were right beside Jeno. He pushed a painful feeling down his throat. He clicked the timer button and went to join the photo. After the photo was done he put the camera in his bag and sat beside Donghyuck. And you , of course you were by Jeno.

Chenle suddenly placed all the movies infront of him on the carpet. “ Okay , We need to choose what we are going to watch right ? “ , he said and everyone nodded. “ So that means , Close your eyes and when I call out a movie name , raise your hand if you want to watch it okay ? The movie with the most votes is what were are going to watch. “ , Chenle explained. “ Since when were you so bossy Mr. Zhong Chenle ? “ Jeno jokingly asked. And there it was , your beautiful giggle. But again , was it for Jaemin , was it directed towards Jaemin because of something funny he said ? No. Never was it. It was for Jeno as always. Jaemin felt something poking at his throat. Ouch. It hurt but he tried to suppress the pain in order to focus on picking a movie.

“ Okay close your eyes everyone “ , Chenle ordered. “ Zootopia “ “ Rio 2 “ “ The Nun “ “Chucky “ , Chenle named out. “ Okay open now. We have the movie! “ , Chenle announced. “ What is it ? Tell me Tell me “ , you said in the softest voice ever. Jaemin suddenly wanted everything to stop. “ Chucky!” , Chenle said . “ Yay! “ , you cheered , Jeno smiled that perfect eye smile of his , and hugged your arm. This wasn’t good , Jaemin thought. He then felt a pain in his throat and motioned to the others that he was going to the bathroom and would be right back. What is this pain ? It hurt so damn much as if he was going to throw up something unusual.

He was right. Very unusual. Terrifying. Fucking scary. He felt like he was going to faint. Petals. Fucking petals. He threw up goddamn petals. Not just any petals. They were pink carnations. Fucking hell. Jaemin memorized many meanings of flowers. He always thought flowers were beautiful. He loved the fact that each of them had their on individual meaning and significance. But pink carnations, they symbolized “ I’ll never forget you “. Jaemin couldn’t stop freaking out. His hands had begun to uncontrollably shake once he realized what was happening. Hanahaki disease. Fucking hanahaki disease. He hoped this wasn’t it. He really hoped. He tried to pick up his phone and look up what was happening. And damnit , it fucking was hanahaki disease. A disease where a person falls in deep love with someone but the person that their inlove with doesn’t return their feelings so they start throwing up the petals of the favorite flower of the person their inlove with. And if they end up never returning the feelings , you die. A flower will form in your throat causing the thorns to kill you. But there is always chance that they might love you back , a very small chance. And he was throwing up pink carnations. How fucking relevant.

Jaemin quickly realized that if he didn’t clean up the bathroom quick and go back to the living room , they are all going to start worrying. But he knew he couldn’t stay. It hadn’t fully hit him that he was going to possibly die soon , but he was aware and there was no way in hell way he going to go back there and quicken the process. He quickly ran out the door to the living room and attempted to give some shitty ass excuse to get the hell out of there before something bad happens.

“ Hey guys , I just don’t feel well. I think I am just going to go home and get some rest “ , He said apologetically. “ Oh bye Jaemin! I love you “ you said smiling. That hurt. It hurt so much but he bottled it all up. “ Yea we love you! Get home safe “ , Jeno said waving bye with the other boys. That hurt worse.

Why was the world so unfair to Jaemin ? Why was the world such a shitty and unfortunate place ? And why did Jaemin have to live on a time limit ? Jaemin couldn’t do this. Three years of his life he has spent liking you and now he finds out he is going to die because of it ? How much more shitty could life possibly get ?

The sky wasn’t completely dark. There was enough light to take photos. Photography was his forever safety. He grabbed his camera and took pictures of every beautiful thing he could find. But you were the most beautiful thing of all. Yet he couldn’t obtain you. He could only imagine you both in an alternative universe.

He suddenly remembered all the photos he took of you on this camera when you both hung out. He sighed , “ What am I going to do “.

Jaemin didn’t even realize then , life could get even more shitty than it already was.

four.

A month had passed. All weekend long , Jaemin was restless. At this point , he could say he was officially sleep deprived. His mind was filled with you. Of all things it had to be you , always. But Jaemin knew it was not the same for you. He could see the platonic love you held for him in your eyes.

Jaemin was dreading Monday. School in general felt like a waste of time , but you being there made the petals in his throat grow.

Throughout the weekend he realized how the petals gradually got worse. On Saturday you had asked him to facetime you so he could help you pick out an outfit for dinner with your family. Of course Jaemin agreed but seeing you look so effortlessly beautiful just increased the pain in his chest. But by Sunday it was not as painful. He spent the whole day off of his phone trying to avoid you. But Monday rolled around and he was not prepared. When was he ever ?

“ Jaemin wake up you have school in 30 minutes! “ , his mom yelled across the house. “ I’m getting dressed mom “ , he yelled back. He quickly threw on a simple and comfy outfit. He ran to the kitchen , grabbing a quick breakfast then headed straight to his vehicle to get to school. The whole way there he could feel his phone vibrating with messages which he assumed were from the group chat.

After he arrived at school he took out his phone and read the messages.

y/n 🌺 : hey !! do you guys want to go for boba later this week ??

ducky : yes madam 😏⁉️

markie mark : YES ?? OFC ?? 🙃

He turned off his phone , finding the conversation irrelevant in the moment , and headed to his first class , algebra. Jaemin wasn’t as fond of math as he was of other subjects. It quite frankly frustrated him. He never seemed to guess the answers correctly , though he was thankful to be passing the class ( thanks to Chenle’s help of course ). Jaemin was fond of art. Primarily because photography was incorporated into art and he was able to portray his talent in there. He counted down the class periods he had up until art class. 2. Two more classes left until art.

When English and History had passed , he made his way to the art classroom . During the day , he managed to speak to you and the other guys a little but he seemed off to them. But Jaemin was not the type to give in even if people keep on bothering him with questions, so they gave up. But Renjun was slowly catching on to something. Why would he ever let this odd behavior be unattended to ? This is his best friend after all , but he didn’t want to bother so quickly yet.

Jaemin loved and hate art class in this moment. The pros were that he got to pursue something he loves and be transparently himself. But the main con was , you shared this class together.

“ Hey Jaemin! “ , you said happily. “ Oh hi Y/N “ , he said nervously. You frowned at his sudden awkward behavior but let it go when the teacher walked in.

He could feel a petal threatening to be coughed up but it took all his power stored in his body to shoved it back down.

“ Good after noon class! Today I have assigned you all with a task. This project is due within 2 weeks time. Last month , if you remember , you all took a vote on what your next big project will be based around. The results were photography! I discussed with some of my colleagues that are photographers what would be best to have this project be on. We decided each of you will be assigned a partner. You and your partner will be give a specific theme. This will count as an exam grade , Understood ? “ , she concluded and everyone nodded. Jaemin was beyond happy to be given such a project.

Mrs. Choi , the art teacher , was going around the class calling out who was paired with who and what their theme was. She gradually made her way to you snd Jaemin’s seat , you both so happened to sit right beside each other. How ironic.

“ I have decided to pair you to together for this project. You both seem to work together very well and accomplish tasks extremely well. Your theme is beauty found within each other. I suggest finding a landscape which best suits you both individually as that can help you find what beauty is stored within you. Try your best to portray what you both think is beautiful in each other while incorporating a landscape which suits you both! “ , she said. “ Good luck!”

Funny thing is , Jaemin had already made a mental note a long time ago of every thing about you that was beautiful. He already knew what best suited you. He could name everything about you and tell you how it was so incredible to him.

Could you do the same ? Jaemin had already been aware of the answer to that question since he became aware of his own feelings towards you. His thoughts were so incredibly crowded that the only thing that broke his inner voice was the petals that were about to arise because of the overwhelming feeling of love for you pumping throughout his chest.

“ I’m going to go to the bathroom right quick. “ , he said. You only nodded , watching him rush out of the classroom quickly.

He tried his best to maneuver through the halls as fast as he could without drawing any attention. Luckily , when he reached the bathroom , no one besides him was present. He began throwing up the petals that were grown inside of his chest. He hated this life.

Jaemin had already walked back to the classroom after five minutes. Only a few minutes after arriving to the classroom , the lunch bell had rang.

“ Hey , Jaemin just text me when you are free next week so we start on this project , okay ? I am so excited ! “ , you announced.

Jaemin didn’t go to lunch. Instead he sat in the bathroom waiting for the last bell to ring.

Thursday had came around the corner fast. You had been blowing up his phone with messages for him not to miss the gathering at the local boba shop or he would ‘ get the boot ‘.

Jaemin quickly grabbed his grey hoodie you bought him , how ironic again , and headed out the door.

Upon arriving at the boba shop , he couldn’t help but notice through the clear glass window how you and Jeno were so close , flirting even. His heart ached even more but he pushed it aside and decided to put on a mask and walk in.

“ Oh Jaemin ! You are here , finally. “ , Jeno said hugging Jaemin. “ Yeah sorry I am a little late. My mom needed help with some yard work “ , he said. lie. Jaemin was extremely hesitant about coming. Why would he want to ? It hurt too much , but he did it for you.

One hour had passed and all Jaemin did was here Marks stupid jokes and about how Donghyuck had “ accidentally “ thrown Jisung’s ipad into a wishing well one summer vacation. And oh , let’s not forget you laughing at Jeno’s horrible jokes. They weren’t even that funny , he thought.

And then he saw it. He heard Jeno whisper , “ If you kiss me on the cheek , I will buy you some more boba!! “ , to you , while smiling. And then you had kissed him on the cheek.

It was immature for Jaemin to feel upset , but he justified his emotions by the fact he felt a petal about to come out. He again , like always , motioned that he was going to the bathroom.

And again there was a petal from a pink carnation. How fucking nice. Needless to say , Jaemin got out of there with an excuse before he could near his death more.

He didn’t bother showing up for the weekly Friday movie night. But no one asked questions. He felt alone , yet again. But who could he tell his tragic ending to ? It only felt as if it would make worse of his situation.

About a week passed and it was Wednesday. About this time last week you had arranged for you and Jaemin to meet up and the park at around 4pm for this art project. You both were equally excited , maybe Jaemin even more. He just couldn’t express it.

By the time he arrived , he saw you were already there , playing with the ducks. He took this opportunity to capture a picture of you in this moment. You were so beautiful , he thought.

Once you felt a presence behind you , you turned around but softened your gaze once your recognized it was him.

“ Oh hi! Are you ready to start ? “ , you asked.

“ Oh yeah of course ! While you were playing with the ducks , I took a photo of you. It fits you. Maybe we could use it ? “ , he shyly said.

“ Let me see Nana! “ , you said excitedly. His heart was about to fucking burst. “ Oh okay here “ , he showed his camera your way.

“ It’s so good ? You truly have a way with cameras. Okay now take some more of me over here by the pond! “ , you stated. He aimed his camera at you , clicking the button. You were perfect.

“ Nana let me take some of you! “ , you said , reaching out your hands to grab the camera. “ Okay “ , he replied while walking to a tree and posing. click. You smiled at the photos you had taken while handing him the camera back.

Two hours had passed and he could feel that this was about to come to an end today , just not in the way he had anticipated.

Your phone had started ringing and he could see a certain realization had hit you. You quickly picked it up and hung about after about a minute.

“ Oh that was Jeno. He called me to remind me of our date tonight. I am really excited! But unfortunately I need to head home to get ready. Good night ! Don’t forget to send me those pictures of you for the project ! Bye bye , Love you Nana “ , you said apologizing while waving bye. He couldn’t make out words. He was caught off guard. He zoned out for a second and then realized you were gone.

All these emotions had hit him. He didn’t know how to process. You were going out with Jeno. Not Jaemin , Jeno. Fucking Jeno. Why him ?

Jaemin felt everything crash down. He couldn’t breathe probably. Petals were threatening to come out and he couldn’t help but hide behind a tree in the dark while letting them come out. He was so hopeless. He had no idea how much he had left. Why was the world so cruel to Jaemin ? What had he done to deserve such a fate ? Why suddenly did he have to live on a time limit ? He thought again it couldn’t get worse.

Yet he was always proved wrong at this thought.

Out of nowhere , Renjun appeared and said , “ Jaemin ? Is that you ? Are you okay ? “.

In fact it got worse. He was fucked, big time.

[welcome-to-afterlife]

Wannabe Challenge Kpop AU Headcanons

I know that no one requested this, but I had this idea stuck in my head for a while now. It took quite some time to get down, but I'm finally done!

Role: Leader, Main Vocalist, Center

Taehee was the first member of the group to be recruited by ST Entertainment. He had a charismatic yet soft aura that drew all the girls on audition day. Immediately, the entertainment company knew that Taehee would become part of their label.

However, it took him a good 5 years before the company decided that he was ready for debut. It was within this time that he learned how to avoid the entertainment industry's sleazy business practices, develop a strong image, and maintain constant motivation for debut. You could say he subconsciously preparing to he a leader by trying to himself afloat for 5 years.

Once he finally got to debut, Taehee was chosen to be the leader of the group. Although Hansol seemed like the more obvious choice, Hansol thought that Taehee would be a better fit since Taehee already knew a lot about the entertainment industry due to his experience. Besides, he was the only one who was mature and emotionally-equipped to lead a group.

As for Taehee's abilities, his strongest suit is his singing. While he wasn't the strongest singer at the start of his training, he ended up become one of the best vocalists in the company. His voice has a unique color that radiates smoothness with a hint of attitude. He's able to hit high notes, but he's a lot better at belting -- especially when he's feeling emotional.

Perhaps this is the reason that Taehee excels in elegant concepts. His graceful movements along with his princely facial expressions make him the star on the stage. Think of songs such as "I'm in Trouble" by NU'EST, "Blue Flame" by ASTRO, and "Not By the Moon" by GOT7. It's like he belongs on an icy throne in a golden palace.

Surprise, surprise: he gets the most lines in their songs. Usually it's not by a lot, but sometimes ST gives some of Biho's lines to Taehee (much to the everyone's dismay). He's never comfortable singing those lines and tries to negotiate to give Biho more lines, but it doesn't always work. He gets quite the backlash for it, but unfortunately it's out of his control.

When interacting with fans, Taehee is usually very warm and kind. He's constantly asking about everyone's health and well-being, nagging fans to keep themselves at top priority. He doesn't want fans to ruin their lives because of their love for him and his group. He's also very earnest and mature, almost like a guardian angel to his fans. Wherever they go, his heart is always with them.

In the group, he's basically the dad. He's always looking out for the other members (yes, even Yooha). Just like his fans, his members' well-being is top priority. In lives, you'll probably see him in the background cooking food, cleaning dorms, and or scolding the other members for doing dumb things (that last reason is why he's also very likely to appear in crack videos).

However, he appears most often in "sassy moment compilations" because of his reactions. Taehee has even gone viral because he just straight up rolled his eyes at a variety show when they asked him uncomfortable questions and threw not-so-subtle shade. From then on, he's been dubbed as the "sassy king".

For side projects, his main path is acting. Taehee is a really good actor who played the main male lead in a critically acclaimed K-Drama. He played the sly but sweet love interest in a historical drama. The audience are always amazed at his ability to adapt to the time period so accurately.... it's almost as if he's lived there himself?

Role: Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Vocalist

Originally, Yooha has started off as a model. However, staff from ST Entertainment saw Yooha and thought that his visuals would be perfect for the kpop business. They offered their business card to him and he decided to try out for fun. Fortunately, he nailed his audition and was admitted as a trainee immediately.

Yooha was the last person to join the company and had the shortest training time (1 year). His sudden arrival and decision to debut with the group created a rift between him and the other members. Taehee thought it was unfair that Yooha could debut with minimal training while Hansol was worried that Yooha's addition would affect the group's dynamic (in areas like line distribution, dance formation, etc).

However, he and the other members were forced to resolve their issues when he became Taehee's roommate at their dorm. Since it was Taehee's job to lead the group (including Yooha), the two had no choice but to bond.

Now before y'all yell at me that Yooha isn't main rapper material, just know that I had to give the position to someone. Secondly, Yooha has an alluring and deep voice voice that was perfect for rap. Also, he is really good at rapping in various beats and experiments with different flows. While he can do fast raps, he prefers to make ones that have a distinct rhythm and leave a lasting impact on the audience.

However, Yooha hadn't planned to debut as the group's rapper. His original role being the main dancer, but he jokingly rapped in an pre-debut interview and everyone fell in love with his voice. From that, ST Entertainment thought it would be best to make Yooha the rapper instead.

In fan interactions, Yooha is very slick and flirty. Whether it's in fanmeet, lives, or concerts, Yooha knows exactly how to steal the hearts of his fans. Just one wink is enough to make the entire stadium swoon over him.

However, he's also the crackhead of the group. If you search for the group's "crackhead moment compilations", 80% of the video will involve Yooha somehow. In fact, it's these moments that really boost his popularity within the group and skyrocket him to the 2nd most popular member in the group.

Sometimes, he manages to pull one over Taehee and becomes the most popular member. How does this happen? Well, whenever the group has a "bad boy"/sexy concept comeback, Yooha absolutely dominates the stage. Think of songs such as "Want" by Taemin, "7th Sense" by NCT U, and "Love Killa" by Monsta X. The sexy concept was made for him, so it's no surprise when everyone in the comments section thirsts over him. It's just enough to put him over the edge against Taehee in fan voting.

He also has the most risque outfits. Yooha has an amazing body and he knows it, so why keep it hidden? His wardrobe is filled with experimental pieces that show of his abs, forearms, and everything in between. It's the reason why he's voted "Best Dressed" on every voting app.

Yooha is also a smooth dancer. His fluidity and confidence amplifies his sex appeal on stage, which often causes fans to confuse him as the group's main dancer. He's also has killer facial expressions that maintain his striking stage presence, making it impossible to keep your eyes off of him.

When Yooha isn't rocking the stage, you'll probably see him on magazines and commercial shoots. Photographers just can't get enough of his visuals, so they constantly bring him back for more modeling. He'll even dabble his feet in web dramas, but it doesn't last for long due to the scheduling conflicts between the web dramas and his music career.

Position: Main Dancer, Main Vocalist, Producer, Face of the Group

Hansol started his music journey long before ST Entertainment. He had been creating music as early as elementary school (mainly him bashing wooden sticks on the table and strumming rubber bands). However, he really got to develop his passion on high school-- where he dedicated his time towards music production and music theory.

Thus, Hansol had his own YouTube channel where he created covers of different artists and snippets of songs that he created on his own. From that, he amassed a small following of 25K subscribers. This audience attracted ST Entertainment, who took a liking to his videos and asked him whether he wanted to be a trainee. Hansol gladly took the offer.

Hansol was the 2nd member to join ST and trained for 3 years. Although the company had given him the opportunity to debut immediately, Hansol wanted to wait until he reached his full potential.

While Hansol originally was the leader of the group (since he already had a fairly stable music presence), he had to product all their music. This ate up leadership time, which Hansol was having difficulty in managing. Besides, he thought that Taehee was more mature than him and thought Taehee would do a better job as a leader. Hansol ended up handing the leader role to Taehee before debut.

Hansol's production has been praised by critics, fans, and other producers. His vision for the song helps the group distinguish themselves from the other acts in the entertainment industry and create their own identities as a group. Sometimes he writes songs with Biho (or by himself) to better convey his emotions onto their group's album.

Hansol is the group's ace: he can sing, dance, and even rap. He's equally talented at singing and dancing, so he decided to take main positions for both skills. In his singing, Hansol has a high-pitched voice that makes it easy for him to hit high notes and belt to his heart's content. In fact, many of his lines in the songs are his adlibs (which give the song that extra spice).

Hansol's dancing style is sharp and energetic. There's a lot of power in his movements with playful facial expressions (in contrast to Yooha's powerful, sexy style). This allows him to steal the spotlight when the group has a playful and upbeat comback (think "Energetic" by Wanna One, "Sha La La" by Pentagon, and "BBUSYEO" by ONEUS). His bright grin is enough to light up the entire stadium while keeping fans engaged throughout the performance.

The group's debut turned out pretty successful thanks the Hansol's YouTube fanbase. With his enlarged presence, Hansol is the "Face of the Group"-- the most recognizable member to the general public. While he isn't the most popular within his group's fans, Hansol is the most liked across the general public.

Hansol's personality around fans is very bubbly. He loves playing up his cute, boyish charms to win over the fans (especially when they drool over Yooha). There's a lot of winking, heart signs, pouting, and hugs whenever Hansol interacts with his fans.

Within the group, Hansol is the baby. Although he isn't the youngest, he acts the most immature. He's always nagging the other members and trying to prove his manliness, but it's more like a puppy trying to intimidate a pack of wolves.

For side projects, Hansol would have a solo debut. He'd produce all the music on his album while collaborating with Biho for songwriting. Since it's his solo career, Hansol would have much more creative control-- allowing him to fully explore every corner of his artistry. He plans to continues his solo career long after the group disbands too.

Position: Lead Vocalist, Rapper, Songwriter, Visual, Maknae

Biho was the 3rd member to join ST Entertainment. Out of the 4, he was the only one who submitted a formal audition tape to ST Entertainment and got accepted through the traditional audtion process. What made his audtion special was that he performed his own song-- a love song to his future lover. The judges absolutely loved his vibe and voice, so they couldn't pass this opportunity.

When Biho became a trainee, he always felt insecure about his skills. Even though he was talented, Biho was training with the likes of Taehee and Hansol, who were already experienced and seasoned professionals. Biho thought he'd be holding his group back, but the other members assured him that his presence made a significant impact on the group.

And honestly, it really did because Biho wrote most of their songs. His lyrics were both thought-provoking and poetic. He was never afraid of writing music about the things on his mind (whether it was love, fear, anger, or sadness). However, editing the lyrics took a lot of time as Biho only wanted to make the best content for his fans. Sometimes he lets Hansol write music with him.

Biho's strength lies in his singing (like most of the other members). His voice is soft and breathy, almost like a lullaby wrapping you in a soft blanket. No matter how you're feeling, Biho's voice is guaranteed to calm your nerves and take to your safe place.

Biho is also known for his looks. Although Yooha is the group's top model, Biho's face is the perfect canvas for all types of makeup styles. Although he doesn't realize it, fans love the duality between his soft persona and his darker one. Many are surprised that Biho is able to make the switch for sexier concepts and absolutely die when he does.

However, Biho shines the most with soft boy concepts. It's the image that he's had for the longest and is most comfortable with. Besides, the more thoughtful and heartfelt songs are where his lyrics get to shine through-- making him extra happy. For reference, the best examples of soft boy songs that suits Biho would be "Spring Day" by BTS, "Don't Wanna Cry" by SEVENTEEN, "Blue Hour" by TXT.

In fan interactions, Biho is extremely warm and a tad bit shy. He's always blushing when fans compliment him and showers his fans with a bunch of love in return. He likes to take his fans' hands and sincerely thank them for their support because his group would be nothing without them.

In fact, Biho is the most likely to get emotional while performing. The fact that there are so many people who are willing to listen to his music and his message is something that he could barely dream of. He will be forever indebted to their kindness, which is why he tries go provide his fans with all a lot of content (lives, Q+As, pop-up fansigns).

In the group, Biho isn't much different. In fact, he's the member whose idol persona matches his real personality the most. He's always cheering hisnother members from the side and gushing about how amazing they are. Sometimes he likes to throw an occasional jab at Yooha though (especially when Yooha is feeling himself too much).

For side projects, Biho is working on a book! He already has a collect of poems that was published, which has recieved high praise from critics and other poets. He also spends time writing songs for other groups, especially ones that come from small, poor companies.

[hermannsthumb]

Could you please write #43 grandparents/neighbors one?

43. we’re having our family meal at my grandparents’ house this year so fingers crossed your parents still live next door and you grew up to be even hotter

from winter writing prompts here

oh god this one got so long. sorry everyone! thank you to @k-sci-janitor for the alien bit because it was so fucking funny

------------

Holidays have gotten a little weird to manage since Newt transformed into a fully-fledged adult with an apartment and a job and stuff, so while he hasn’t made it to the big Geiszler celebration in Germany every December since starting college out of elementary school, he still tries to make a point of dropping by his dad’s for dinner and a movie or something to fill his holiday quota. It’s fine by him; he loves his family, but they’re definitely overwhelming, and trying to submit final grades and work on syllabuses for the next semester all while distant relatives ruffle his hair and ask him when he’s going to hit his growth spurt is not his idea of a relaxing time. It’s a constant point of contention between him and his dad. This year more than most, apparently.

“Your grandmother misses you!” he tells Newt sadly over their Chinese takeout. “She calls me every week to ask how you are, and why you never visit with them. Every week.” He waves a fork at Newt. “You’re breaking her heart.”

“I’m in the lab, like, twenty-four-seven, dad,” Newt sighs. It’s a well-rehearsed conversation at this point, but it doesn’t get any less tiresome. Especially because he knows his dad is lying about the phone call thing—Newt is a great grandson and texts his grandmother plenty, thank you very much, he would know if he was breaking her heart. “I’m working straight through winter break this year. Seriously.”

“That’s what you did last year,” Newt’s dad says. “And the year before that…” Newt turns the volume up on the TV to cut his dad off before he can segue into the next part of his argument, which is (usually) that Newt needs to work on his personal life, maybe settle down, produce some grandkids of his own. Or at least adopt a cat. Also well-rehearsed.

He’s not sure why he says what he does next—maybe in a desperate attempt to distract his dad further. Maybe because of the sudden onslaught of childhood memories the mention of his grandparents’ house brought on. “Hey, do you remember that boy who used to live next door to grandma?” he says. “He had the weird haircut and always dressed kind of funny?” Old-fashioned, and a little too formal for the sort of things that little kids tend to do, climbing trees or playing in the mud—sweatervests and polished loafers and starched-white knee-highs.

Newt’s dad blinks at him. Newt half expects him to declare that Newt is nuts, and that he has no idea what he’s talking about, like this is one of those horror stories where the childhood friend turns out to be some ghost who died fifty years prior. The clothing would match up, he guesses. But he smiles in recognition a moment later. “You mean the Gottlieb boy?” he says.

“Gottlieb,” Newt echoes. It sounds familiar enough. “Hermann, I think. When I’d stay with grandma for the summer we would play together every day. I wonder what he’s doing now.” Hermann was a smart guy, a real geek like Newt; he used to carry a graphing calculator around in his pocket and build the most goddamn pristine model spacecrafts Newt had ever seen. Hermann’s dad shipped him off to a prestigious boarding school the last summer Newt spent there, when they were around twelve or so. Newt started at MIT not long after. “Dude’s probably designing rocket ships by now or something.”

“You could ask him yourself if you came with me,” Newt’s dad laughs. “The Gottliebs never moved away, and their children actually visit. I’m sure your Hermann visits, too.”

“Ha,” Newt says. “Yeah.”

It’s snowing by the time Newt and his dad finish their movie, and Newt (fearing his dad’s driving even in ideal conditions) declines the offer of a lift home to trudge his way through it to his T stop instead. It’s nice to have the chance to be alone with his thoughts, anyway, because he can’t seem to get funny little Hermann Gottlieb out of his head. What is he doing now?

A quick Facebook search on the train produces a few Hermann Gottliebs, but none of them promising—none of them have the brown eyes or strangely angular face (devoid of any baby fat even that young) Newt remembers, none of them are from the right German countryside, none of them went to a preppy English boarding school. Google (utilizing the information Newt does have) is a little more rewarding, and by the time Newt presses the button to request his stop, he’s scrounged up a decent amount of info: Hermann Gottlieb has a doctorate in astrophysics, Hermann Gottlieb publishes papers at a slightly terrifying rate, and Hermann Gottlieb turned out kinda hot.

As Newt stares down at a slightly grainy current photograph of his old friend—haircut and clothing unchanged, a cane in hand, some round librarian glasses perched on the end of his nose, wide mouth twisted into a scowl—he suddenly recalls another thing about Hermann Gottlieb: the summer Hermann was sent away to boarding school was the summer that Hermann kissed Newt goodbye, shyly and tearfully, under the shade of the tall maple tree in his yard. It was the last time Newt ever saw Hermann. It was Newt’s first kiss.

“Oh, boy,” Newt says.

He texts his dad when he gets back to his apartment. When do we leave?

Newt feels like the belle of the fucking ball when he steps into his grandparents’ house a week later, snow dusting his shoulders, small suitcase clenched in his hand. His cheeks are kissed; his scarf and hat and leather jacket are brushed off and tossed onto a coat rack; his hair is in parts smoothed down (too messy!) and ruffled (too flat!); he’s hugged more times than he has been in the entire last year, probably. “Still playing around with bugs in the dirt, eh, Newt?” his grandfather booms, tucking Newt into the crook of his arm with enough force to knock Newt’s glasses off.

“Actually,” Newt squeaks, scrambling for both what he remembers of his very rusty German, and his glasses before they can hit the ground, “entomology isn’t really my main focus at—”

“Newt’s studying jellyfish now,” Newt’s dad declares proudly. “He went on a diving expedition this July.”

“Diving? How exciting,” Newt’s grandmother says.

“Yeah,” Newt says. He pushes his glasses back on. “Yeah, it was fascinating, I was lucky to get the funding for it. You wouldn’t believe the sorts of—”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Newt’s cousin says.

“My little Newt’s a daredevil!” Newt’s dad says.

“It’s not that dangerous,” Newt says. “As long as you’re—”

“What happened to that nice man your father said you were dating?” Newt’s grandfather says. “With the, the what was it, the poetry? The poet? We thought you’d bring him!”

Newt flushes. Trust his dad to talk up some random guy Newt dated in March like it was a long-term affair and not an elongated one-night stand that fizzled out after three weeks. Though maybe that one’s on Newt—it’s not like he mentioned the one-night stand part to his dad, after all. He definitely didn’t mention that the guy ended it with a poem, too. “We broke up,” he says, weakly. He wriggles out from the throng of the crowd. “Look, it’s so great seeing you all, but I’m actually, like, really tired, soooooo…?”

“Oh, of course you are,” Newt’s grandmother says. She pats his head. “What a long flight you must have had! We’ll send someone up for you for dinner—you can have your old guest room.”

“Cool,” Newt says.

He scurries up the stairs.

The guest room he slept in during those summers is almost exactly the way he remembers it, but a little dustier—the floral quilt on the bed, his grandma’s sewing table crammed into the corner, the bookcase stocked with a weird combination of kid’s books and illustrated encyclopedias that Newt used to pore over for hours as a kid, often with Hermann. Newt draws back the embroidered curtains and peers out the window at the Gottliebs’ snow-capped house next door. Hermann’s window was directly across from his. It still is, technically, though the curtains (these navy blue and embroidered with little constellations) are pulled tight, and Newt has a feeling that Hermann hasn’t set foot in his old room in well over a decade. Two decades, probably.

He remembers the one summer he showed Hermann how to make a soup can telephone, and they managed to string it all the way across between their windows before discovering it kinda didn’t work as well as Newt said it would. He remembers when Hermann’s dad banned him from the Gottlieb house for tracking water all over their front hallway after he and Hermann went wading in the creek, but it was really Hermann who did it, because he forgot to take his shoes off and they got soaked, and Newt just took the fall for it so Hermann wouldn’t get in trouble. And when Hermann asked Newt to play astronaut with him, and Newt insisted on being an alien and mimed the chestburster scene from Alien, and Hermann freaked out so bad he fell in a mud puddle and got grounded for ruining his clothing, and Newt got grounded for that and for watching Alien when he wasn’t supposed to, and they spent the following few days staring sadly out across at each other before Newt’s grandma finally got tired of his moping and sent him to work weeding the garden. He remembers knotting a little friendship bracelet for Hermann out of embroidery thread he found in his grandmother’s sewing basket and Hermann vowing to keep it until he died.

Newt’s half of the soup can phone is still on the windowsill, though the string snapped and crumbled apart years ago. He picks at the peeling Chicken Noodle label, so distracted that he almost doesn’t notice the light suddenly seeping through at the edges of Hermann’s curtains, or the way they’re pushed open—almost.

Hermann—real, live, adult Hermann, botched haircut and round glasses and all—stares out at Newt with a shocked expression on his face. Newt drops the can with a clatter.

Then he waves.

“Hey, Grandma?” Newt says, poking his head into the kitchen. Tonight’s dinner is a massive pot of soup boiling away on the stovetop, dessert a mountain of cookies and tiny pastries on serving platters on the counters. Newt hasn’t had food that looked this good since he moved out, to be honest. The intersection of Newt’s sad lack of cooking skills and his attempts at vegetarianism means he eats a lot of boxed mac-and-cheese and frozen Vegetable Lovers’ pizzas. “Are you—?"

“Oh, Newt!” Newt’s grandmother says. She sets down her wooden spoon. “Are you feeling rested, then?”

“Yeah,” Newt says. “Grandma, I was wondering, could I—uh—maybe run some food over to the Gottliebs? To be…neighborly? We just have so much, and—”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Newt’s grandmother says. “They keep to themselves, mostly, but I can’t imagine they’d turn it down. You might even see your little friend again! What was his name? You were so fond of him.”

“Hermann,” Newt says, quickly shoving cookies into a red-lid plastic container. “Thanks, Grandma.”

He tucks the tupperware under his arm and nearly wipes out on the icy front path he runs to the Gottliebs’ so fast. Before he can so much as catch his breath and knock, their door swings open; Hermann, dressed in a tacky Hannukah sweater, arches an eyebrow at him. “I saw you sprint over here like a bloody madman,” he says, in blessed English. He must’ve remembered how shitty Newt’s German was when they were kids. “Hello, Newton. What’s so terribly important?”

His voice got deeper—expected—and he swapped out his German accent for an English one somewhere along the way. Probably at his stuffy boarding school. He also got taller—he’s got a few inches on Newt now, but Newt admits that’s not exactly hard. God, he’s even hotter in person. “Uh,” Newt says. Why is he here? Oh, right. He thrusts out the tupperware. “I brought some cookies over for you?”

Hermann peers down at the offering over his glasses. His forehead wrinkles. “How considerate,” he says. He pulls an olive-green parka on and steps out onto the porch, tugging the door shut behind him. He taps at a peeling porch swing with the end of his cane. “Just leave them there. Would you like to take a walk?”

It’s freezing, and snowing, but for some reason, a walk sounds like the best idea in the world right now. “Yes, please,” Newt says, and chucks the cookies onto the swing.

“I must say,” Hermann says, after their meandering walk around the Gottliebs’ yard takes them to the old maple tree. The branches are bare, but thick, and shield them from most of the falling snow. Hermann’s breath puffs out white in front of his angular face. The last time I stood here, Newt thinks, he kissed me. “I really did not expect to see you.”

“I didn’t expect to see you, either,” Newt admits. “From what I remember, you and your family weren’t—uh—well, very close. I didn’t think you’d be coming back to share in the holiday cheer with them, is what I mean.”

The corner of Hermann’s mouth twitches up. “That’s certainly one way of describing it. Yes, I suppose you’re right—my father is a bit of a bastard, isn’t he?” Newt laughs awkwardly, unsure whether to agree or attempt to weakly the defend a guy who openly hated him for being a bad influence on Hermann most of his childhood; he’s grateful when Hermann continues and saves him the choice. “This is the first year I’ve come home in a long while. My brother’s just had a daughter, you see, and I thought I should start getting used to playing uncle.”

“Oh, congrats,” Newt says. Hermann shrugs, and Newt has the distinct feeling that this is Hermann’s older brother, who used to dissemble Hermann’s telescope and hide the pieces around the house when Hermann annoyed him, and tattled on Newt and Hermann to Hermann’s parents the one time Newt snuck in to see Hermann after he got banned. He always made Newt thankful that he was an only child. “Same here, actually. Not the uncle thing—I mean I haven’t visited since I was in college. Too busy.”

“I know,” Hermann says, and then adds teasingly (in a way that makes color flood Newt’s cheeks and his heart beat just a little faster), “I’ve looked you up online. Er—quite a bit recently, in fact. I was curious. You’ve made quite the name for yourself, haven’t you, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I,” Newt squeaks, and then coughs. “I mean, I guess? I like…science.”

“I oughtn’t be surprised,” Hermann says. “You were always giving me bugs, and salamanders, and funny little frogs—”

Newt liked bugs, and salamanders, and frogs, but he liked Hermann more, and the gifts had a lot more to do with the latter than the former, because what kid wouldn’t want bugs or salamanders or frogs, right? Not that Hermann ever appreciated them—especially not the worms Newt would pluck from the sidewalks after rainstorms. He thinks he got grounded for that one, too, because his grandma wouldn’t believe that he really wasn’t trying to terrorize the poor Gottlieb boy. “And what about you?” Newt says. He pokes his elbow into Hermann’s side. “Dr. Gottlieb? Guess those model rockets paid off.”

(“No, Newton,” Hermann would snap at him on the rare occasions he would allow Newt to watch him piece one together, “the glue hasn’t dried yet. You have to be patient, or else it’ll fall apart.”)

“Not yet,” Hermann says, “but I hope soon.”

Hermann smiles at him. A snowflake catches in his eyelashes—his long, pretty, dark eyelashes. “Do you remember when you kissed me here?” Newt blurts out.

“It’s hardly the sort of thing I’d forget,” Hermann says. He reaches out and tucks a piece of Newt’s hair up into his hat. “I like your tattoos—I saw the photographs on your social media accounts. They suit you.” Newt wonders if this means Hermann saw the shirtless selfie he posted on Instagram. “I’m also pleased to see you’ve gotten your braces removed. It wasn’t a very pleasant experience last time.”

Then he leans in and kisses Newt. Again, technically. It’s so light and brief Newt hardly believes it even happened. Their glasses clack together, and when Hermann pulls away, he straightens out Newt’s.

“I confess,” Hermann says, “that I’m wholly pleased to see how you’ve turned out. I hope that wasn’t too forward of me. I’ve been thinking about doing it all night.”

“Jeez, dude,” Newt says, blinking at him, his head swimming just a little. Hermann looks smug. “Not, uh, not too forward. So. Uh. You wanna get dinner or something this week and catch up?”

Hermann snorts, and nods.

[handlewcaare]

Art credit: @kajuhz

Since the time he crawled out of his grave at the laboratory, isolation was the best company he could make. Anyone who approached him with well-meaning intentions were shot down. Mistakes were bound to happen, but he would have been a fool to make the same one twice.

Once he returned to the little hole in the wall that was his agency, he ensured to keep a gun wherever was accessible for a friendly genetist. Was it paranoia? He didn’t know, but he thought he was desensitized to it all. What one man’s fatal wounds were his blisters and mild annoyances.

That had been the exact reason as to why the Association wanted him.

Several years after he retired from being a lab rat, his agency ran slow. People would hire him for small investigative work, nothing that he usually did in the golden days. It was honest work, he wouldn’t complain, finding a stalker within the bushes and seizing him got his mind off it. However, with the rapid development of caped crusaders typically found in comic books, what good was an old gumshoe?

It wasn’t until a monster had destroyed his agency that he comprehended why people regarded them as a persistent menace.

The fault was his own for leaving his agency unlocked, but after seeing years of evidence for cold cases left in ashes, his regrets immediately flourished to rage. Furor was not a typical characteristic of his, but after seeing his furniture destroyed, the maps and photographs partially charred or shredded, the malicious being only grinned at how he set down his groceries by his feet and locked the door.

The aroma of burning flesh against the lashing tongue of a conflagration never bothered him. How his muscles and ligaments were shredded under the velocity of the being’s claws never hindered his own onslaught. How he had to pry his own intenstines out from his peritoneal cavity to prevent him from tripping over it never evoked a sense of horror. He would give credit when it was due, the doctor certainly enhanced his healing factor.

As it turned out, a Griffin-like being with a flaming head was harder to swat than he anticipated. From a bucket of water, to using the fire extinguisher before bashing it’s skull with the end of the empty canister, he didn’t know how long the fight lasted until it was a new record.

Seven days. Four hours. Twenty minutes.

As someone once said, “time flies when you’re in an adrenaline rush.”

Not even after he hobbled out of the destroyed agency with the singeing aroma of salt, copper, gasoline and rotting flesh, was he greeted with the cries reserved for the victor. Gasping and cheering onlookers could only watch in wide-eyed wonder and admiration at how he stood in grotesque triumph. Being in the limelight never gave him comfort, in fact, he nearly shuffled to escape the crowd as soon as possible.

“We could use someone like you,” a man in a well-tailored suit said, “I’m part of this association and—”

“No,” a harsh refutation, he knows, but he knew better than to hand out his trust like brochures.

In spite of his protest, the intern attempted to chase after him, “but, sir! That monster was a threat level—!” Demon? Dragon? Dog? Who knew. It wasn’t until his arm, the one hanging by a thread of rotting muscle, fell off his shoulder that he was finally left be. The suppressed disgust did not go unnoticed.

“I don’t care.”

Not initially. Had it been his choice, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of being regarded as a poster boy. Since being confined in a pseudo-cage match with just about every abomination Genus could conjure, joining a group of Boy Scouts would have heightened his sensitivity to something he encountered often.

He could barely stomach analyzing a pallid, frigid reflection of himself projected onto a stranger. To envision that scarlet thread lay limp between their finger and his own—a relationship he could best describe as acquaintances—only served as an irritant he couldn’t scratch out. Though, that might have been amplified by the constant attempts to recruit him.

At this point of his life, the private investigator would resume his work. He always did, even after spending a quarter of his immortal days chained to a wall with nothing but his thoughts and his weapons to keep him company.

His last case was what prompted him to apply.

He didn’t know who hired him, but he did know that someone managed to figure out the address to his homely apartment. When asked whether he knew who the handwriting belonged to, none of them would have matched the description of the writer.

Lollipops?

The private investigator couldn’t help but be a bit dubious, but it was better than getting harassment calls and emails from interns. He read somewhere that people ate sweets to stimulate their thinking, but he just assumed it was a quick way to get a sweet tooth.

What the hell, he needed to get some coffee anyway.

As instructed, he took the public transit to Y-City. Folks were more kinder, a bit pompous, but it could have been due to the fact that he was a walking carcass that made headlines already—save for the idol hero, Anal Mask or whatever the hell his name is—but college kids were quick to point out where Doctor Hajime’s lab was. “He teaches my robotics class,” was the usual answer.

By the time he encountered the front door, he counted how many seconds he would have to escape. Chances were there was gonna be a cyborg or a robot to try and pin him down, inject him with something to make him black out. He had his machetes tucked under the collar of his shirt, his dessert Eagles were holstered at his hips and he had a handsome fire axe within the bag of lollipops and candy apples. He had time to escape, he would ensure that he would, least he opt to shove himself into the nearby wood chipper to finally do himself in.

What he anticipated from the opening door was an older gentleman, someone with a bow tie and unruly and snowy hair. His countenance would have been cobwebbed with age, his shoulders hunched to pronounce a spinal compression. Yet, he would offer a smile as dulcet and as mannerly as any other kind old man.

Instead, the private investigator was greeted with a boy with vibrant tawny eyes and a little auburn curl at the top of his crown. He had to be no older than nine years old. He couldn’t have been any taller than the door knob.

In an instant, he snuffed out his cigarette against the masonry and knelt down to the kid’s height. An instinctual response from someone who was once an uncle—father?—in a family who had long forgotten about him. “Hey kiddo,” the investigator began, “you seen where your dad went off to?”

As incredulous as the kid was, the investigator nearly assumed he went to the wrong place. That was until the boy spoke, “Considering I haven’t seen my father in nearly four years, I’m afraid not,” he paused as he offered a small, wistful smile, “but trust me, you’re not the first person to ask me that.”

Safe to assume that the child genius was much more hospitable than the private investigator was accustomed to. Then again, as he presented a lollipop to the child, those tawny eyes flourished as he hastily accepted the treat from the detective’s grasp. “Thank you, sir!”

“Don’t mention it,” whether or not he was aware of it, there was a smile that aligned.

As the two of them enjoyed their sweets, Hajime elucidated further about the technological black market. What routes they typically took and how he managed to figure out their patterns. The kid truly did have a good head on his shoulders.

“I have a hypothesis that these robots that are being trafficked underneath City W, X, Y and Z aren’t really used for security.”

“And why do you think so?”

“Well, Z-City has a lot of manifestations of monsters. If basic security-Trons were sent off to handle the threats, it would be a waste of resources. I mean, it’s carbon and bismuth—it’s elementary stuff.”

The boy paused as he used his watch as a hologram to present the blueprint of one of the robots. The private eye wasn’t exactly ‘technologically savvy,’ but Hajime called it ‘basic’ so he would just have to take his word for it.

“But that’s not what caught my attention,” he elucidated, as the boy extended his fingertips, the robot’s physique separated by segments of its parts. When he pointed toward a certain adapter, the private investigator couldn’t help but furrow his brows a bit.

“That’s a cranial nerve implant.”

Hajime paused, as if he had fully prepared an exasperative and long-winded statement, “you’ve encountered them before?”

When implored, he suppressed the urge to visibly quake under the phantasmic impulses of electricity that had once trailed down the expense of his brain stem. It was a way to analyze how fast he developed increased intracranial pressure, he remembered Genus saying.

“Friend was a doc,” a decent lie that Hajime seemingly overlooked, though the private investigator felt an acrimonious taste in his mouth. “She said something about how it’d use electricity to wake up dead nerves.”

His russet glare narrowed as he brought a hand to caress his own chin, “thought they’d still be in development...”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” For a moment, the boy’s joviality made him appear exactly his age.

Ah- now it’s starting to make sense.

“From what I know, Z-City has monsters just about every corner,” the investigator began. His baritone suddenly lost it’s intrigue once he mentally assembled the puzzle pieces the best he could. “With monsters, people tend to be more scared than they should be. What do you think being scared means?”

The boy’s eyebrows raised, “they’re paranoid?”

“And—?”

“They...” while it was easy to assemble a mechanical enigma to guard civilians, it was harder to provide a baseline to something as fluctuating as human response. Hajime eventually restored to shrugging his shoulders, “...they’re desperate?”

With that, the private investigator pressed a finger to the tip of his nose before he pointed at Hajime. “Desperate people tend to do stupid. If I’m a single father living in Z-City, you think turning into the terminator wouldn’t be my go-to?”

Such analysis didn’t seem to satisfy the boy. Whether or not it was a challenging diatribe, it was enough of a refutation to make the investigator think a bit, “but you know it’s permanent right? I mean, the cranial nerves aren’t exactly something you want to tamper with, especially if those implants can get into your cerebrum and alter you entirely.”

“Well, you—the kid genius—might know that,” he deflected easily, “but what about me? I’m a single father with a degree in underwater basket weaving. Do you think they taught me about cranial nerves while I was trying to make a basket?”

One could hear a pin drop until the boy piped up, “I mean- if you’re scuba diving and you’re weaving the basket—”

“Just finish your lollipop, kiddo.”

Several weeks had passed when they finally traced a call to one of the robotic manufacturers. It was certainly much more handy than to thread scarlet yarn along what tabs had pinned photographs. Then again, doing things the old fashioned way made old habits die hard.

Needless to say, the private eye could understand the boy’s fascination with his toy-like projects. From a giant action figure he kept buried within the depths of the earth to the robot dogs that served as a pseudo-trump card, it was like assembling legos for him. As the two of them took the public transit to Z-City, the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, save for Hajime’s need to tamper with a Rubik’s cube.

Unlike the other Alphabet cities, the ambiance around Z-City felt calloused and empty. It was but the abyss that stared upon them once they left the transit and it gave the private eye an eery sensation that crept along his vertebrae. It must have been that paternal instinct.

“Stay close to me,” he cautioned, though he should have known better that Hajime didn’t like to be talked down to.

“I can take care of myself.”

“—and if I can’t take care of myself?”

Reverse psychology seemed to do wonders, as Hajime’s vanity subsided for the need to have his partner’s back. Should anyone ask, the detective wouldn’t admit the presence of his little smile.

The call had declared that the deal would be set in the alley nestled next to a udon stand and an apartment complex. It was an easy hole in a wall and, considering how the civilian was late, he and Hajime had to play their part. Between himself and no one in particular, he preferred it that way. The last thing he wanted was for someone to die in front of the boy.

“Oi,” the thuggish chirp resounded from the maw of a strange man who looked mechanically modified. His brows were too close to his eyes, accenting a crueler look. The detective fought every urge to usher Hajime behind him. “You Hammerhead?”

He silently reprimanded himself for not bringing a hammer.

“Yeah,” the detective’s response was nonchalant, a lethargic drawl that could have remained hidden within a thick penumbra of nicotine.

“Who’s the brat?”

“Mine,” short and concise, though he let his russet gaze nearly puncture into the dealer, “you want the money or should I show you my wedding photos?” He went in too eager, though that was exactly the point with desperate people. Fortunately, the dealer turned out to simply comply at the mention of money.

“Seven thousand yen.”

It was agreed upon with a shaky baritone by the real customer prior. However, it was a game that the detective often played prior to meeting Dr. Genus. Once he began to thumb his fingers along the bills in his pocket, the dealer swiftly interjected the detective’s counting.

“I-I meant Seventy thousand!”

“Oh?”

Seventy thousand it was that was instantly slapped into the dealer’s hand. However, there was hardly a moment when the dealer abruptly seized the detective’s arm and held him hostage at gunpoint.

Needless to say, one should never underestimate the strength of a man who wanted to make civilians into cyborgs. With an irritated sigh, the immortal felt his head jerk to the side as a bullet pierced through his temporal lobe. Albeit, the moment his body should have sprawled limp was the instant he seized his machete and took a blind swipe. What astonishment and pure horror from the mechanical marvel only wrought a hand to catch the blade.

Fortunately, the fist that veered to deck the detective never came to deliver. Rather, a tendril that emerged from Hajime’s backpack seized the mechanical marvel’s appendage into a tight lock. It was but a split second when the detective retrieved the machete’s twin and severed the appendage.

“Shit—!” The hydra hydrolauics swiftly seized ahold of the being and attempted to suspend him in the air. Hajime’s hands braced tight to his backpack’s straps, though the dealer proved to be a formidable foe, as he laconically wrapped his free arm around a tendril to toss the brat.

Safe to say that the detective prioritized catching the kid than the dealer. Both had landed with a harsh grunt against the asphalt before the detective hastily retrieved his desert Eagle and fired. Once again, it was a null chance, given how he was abruptly seized by his throat and tossed through the brick masonry of the neglected library.

What sanguine from the brunt trauma coagulated and the flesh wounds he sustained, he could only instinctively block the blow from the mechanical marvel. Regular fisticuffs was a fond favorite of his, typically because of how seldom he did it. What reciprocating strike had been enough to swivel his head evoked him to land a brutal bite of his axe into where his opponent should have been.

“Mr. Detective!”

It was but a moment that the private eye peered over to see Hajime with a snapped tendril, it’s cobwebs of electricity was a big enough hint for him. The instant he distanced himself, the dealer had not a moment to abstain when his back arched under the brutal conduction of carbon and lightning. His howl was guttural, ripping through the empty ambiance before he collapsed at their feet.

What should have been a victorious high-five was but a dreadful beat of anticipation. Hajime could only stare down at the beaten villain, “did I kill him...?” His murmur was rather hushed, as monsters were not the same as modified humans.

For the sake of the boy’s anxiety, the detective brought the tip of his shoe to budge the dealer. The somnolent twitch of his countenance wrought a sense of relief to weigh into the boy’s sigh.

The private investigator offered a high-five for the boy to make. The gesture was slow, as if cautious, but the kid genius managed to reciprocate it. “You did good,” he didn’t know it then, but it was a compliment that Hajime would hold to his heart later.

On taking the transit back to City-Y, the detective opted to intervene the silence. An odd thing for him to do, but it was just them and a few others coming home late.

“So, your parents—” it might have been too sensitive of a subject, but he opted to continue, “—did they uh...” it would have been easy to assume they did die. After all, it was how every hero was sculpted.

Hajime only shook his head, “no,” he said before he retrieved a little Rubik’s cube from his backpack. His fingers fidgeted the slots as his hazel gaze lingered toward the trinket, “I mean, they’re overseas. They send me birthday cards sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” The private investigator couldn’t help but raise a brow at that.

“When they remember.”

Had the private investigator known about Hajime’s profession outside of being a teacher then, he would have been more than happy to demand what the hell was more important than their own kid. Did they know he was handled by suits who depended on currency than their own workers? Even if one of them—two if he counted Badd later—was a child?

Even if he didn’t know it, his furor was quiet enough to make him try to huff out a sigh. His jaw clenched along the curses he would have hissed under his breath when no one was around. Fortunately, Hajime was a quick study.

“What about you?” He must have thought it was a witty comeback, considering how his nose wrinkled a bit, “where’d your parents go?”

“Can’t say I remember,” he knew he had them, but he didn’t know what he did with them. Were they around when he died the first time? Longer? All he could afford to do was wander aimlessly as a phantom without a shell. “Been around since the A.D’s.”

“The A.D.’s??”

As it turned out, Hajime was fascinated with history. The boy’s queries seemed to be rapid fire initially, such as whether or not Shakespeare was a real person (he was), how far has technology gone (far enough), or if the crusades were as brutal as written (it was, but he never had the pleasure in fighting in the wars). The boy’s excitement seemed to tucker him out quickly unfortunately.

Just as the private investigator began to describe what Feudal Japan was like, Hajime nodded off and slumped against the detective’s shoulder. Their stop only prompted him to gingerly scoop the boy up into one arm and carry his—surprisingly dense—backpack with the other. Fortune came in technological wonders, as the lab seemed to unlock its hinges at the presence of their creator’s facial recognition.

The time was late when he finally tucked the boy into bed. Hajime’s backpack slumped against the masonry. There was a strange and phantasmic ache at the base of the detective’s chest, something he hadn’t really felt since he last died.

Prior, he often wondered if it was better to be alone or to try and have a family. He was told he was good with kids by their parents who would hire him to find them. To imagine himself as a father was frightening nowadays, as he could envision that bastard trying to pick up his kids for experimentation.

With Hajime safely in bed, the detective’s thoughts drifted to the newspaper that detailed the triumphs of S-Class Hero Child Emperor against the dreadful turnip monster that interrupted his robotics cla—

...They seriously named the kid “Child Emperor” huh?

The detective contemplated on the transit home just as hard as he was contemplating it back home. His glare lingered toward the shredded up business card. It took every increment of his pride to collect the pieces, but the heroes association weren’t exactly child-friendly.

Did that mean he couldn’t try to do better? For the first time, he felt a sense of balance when handling the dealer. His agency was going to go nowhere and he needed the money, that wasn’t including the fact that Hajime would have ended up, perhaps, the only sensible person there.

he hated being right at times.

He needed to do better, not for the sake of spiting Genus, but to be better for himself.

After he called the intern’s number, he waited until there was a ‘hello?” At the other end of the line.

“Hi,” he says, “I’d like to file a hero application. Do you mind walking me through the process?”

[abbynx]

Sibling things (Kakyoin X Sibling reader)

Spoilers for part three! Please skip if you haven't watched/finished it yet!

Just an angsty fic to satisfy my needs for my lovely cherry boi~

Yesterday... It felt like yesterday when you and I played together within the enclosed walls of our residence. Despite being too young to remember such things, the memory was vivid in my memories. That dumb cherry licking, mother chasing bastard was a tolerable asshat who tend to tease me a lot. He'd mess my hair style whenever he gets the chance, call me an embarrassing nickname, just sibling things nothing much. With all the teasing, all the fight picking, all the kicks, the punch, scratching, biting, possibly knife pointing... We cared about each other, for we were told that it would be us against the world when we grew up. If we grew up... I can't get to grow up with him like we planned.

______________________________________

"Happy seventeenth birthday! Oh my sweet darling child!" Your mother embraced you, pressing a firm kiss on your cheek leaving the residue of her red lipstick after you blew the small flame that burned the red candle moulded to mimic a cherry.

You softly smiled at her statement, when your eyes flickered up and caught a glimpse on the mirror. For some goddamn reason, you didn't see yourself in it. In your place, you saw Noriaki, embracing your mother with that smile of his while he was wearing his form fitting uniform of his he always wear for some god forsaken reason. You saw yourself in the mirror as well, holding the cherry flavoured you bought with your allowance.

_____________________________________ Seventeen. It was his seventeenth and last birthday. I can vividly remember planning his birthday, saving funds, baking him the cherry flavoured cake since it was his favourite, saving my allowance to buy him the video game he had his eye on...

A bright future was ahead of him, welcoming him. Bright young man with grace, regality, intelligence, had myriads of talents. He was an intellectual, a painter, a gamer! He knew a thing about other cultures, literature, norms, morals. A boy with the heart of gold, brains rich with knowledge and wisdom... The bright young man wasn't bright at all, as darkness snuffed his light and he was gone. ______________________________________

"We are so proud of you sweetheart." Missus Kakyoin wholeheartedly smiled, she took your cheeks within her grasp, softly running her thumb on your cheek. Her eyes became glossy with tears pooling in her eyes that couldn't escape. "We love you Y/N. Please remember that no matter what."

"Your brother would be so happy and proud of you." The patriarch of the Kakyoin family puts a hand on the matriarch's shoulder, smiling alongside her as tears has already escaped his eyes.

"Thank you mom, dad." You gathered them into a warm embrace in an attempt to hide your watering eyes, not wanting them to see you cry. You glanced up, catching the family's framed photograph from two years ago. Noriaki sat beside you, whilst your parents stood behind you. That stupid jerk and his stupid smile, he was seventeen and had decades and decades more to live when he died, he could've been nineteen already.

Upset, you gripped your parents tightly within your grasp, tears making their way out of your eyes whilst your chest tightened with your denied sobs.

_____________________________________ Loneliness... All he wanted was a friend, someone who can understand him, who will be there for him as much as he is there for them... And that he found, I was proud of him for making friends... But he was only friends with them for fifty days. ______________________________________

"Oh! Happy belated birthday Y/N!" Your classmate leaned on your desk with a bright smile. "Gosh, you're seventeen now! Only four more years and we're legal to drink! I would TOTES love to hang out with you."

"Thank you, Ibara. I would also love that!" You responded, putting a humble hand on your chest with a close eyes smile.

"Wow! That necklace is pretty! Emerald really suits you a lot!" She compliments, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It accentuates your features and it's really pretty despite not being that bedazzled. Simplicity really is beauty."

You blinked at her in shock. "You really think so?" Your hand unconsciously lands on the circular shaped emerald pendant.

"Yeah! It's so very pretty! Its the first time I saw you wearing a necklace, so it must be new. Is it a birthday gift?" She gasps, covering her lips with her opened palms before smirking mischievously. "Is it from your boyfriend~?"

"Oh, more like my brother's boyfriend!" You rolled your eyes, playfully punching the girl's shoulder.

Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki's friend visited you yesterday. The big guy was a statue towering over your small stature but that didn't let you be afraid of him. Despite being practically strangers with each other, only seeing one another during random bumps in school, a friend of your brother's is a friend of yours. And besides, you found yourself being fond of his family after his grandfather and Jotaro came to your residence that day to share the tragic news. It was a complicated situation, very messy... But in the end, the tragedy was all the same, the death, the circumstance... Despair inducing.

Jotaro Kujo shared so many tales about your brother, how smart he was, how helpful, how brave... How dead he was.

___________________________________ "I honestly didn't know he'd be capable of that..."

"Same here. In all my years of knowing him, I never knew he'd pull that stunt... But undeniably, sounds like him," I smiled, looking over the normally silent behemoth. "And you're right about the cherry stuff. He regularly does that whenever he'd eat cherries."

"It's unnerving, to be frank." The hat wearing boy turned away, tipping his hat downward.

"It is! I remember when we'd buy milkshakes after school! He would often take my cherry and do that thing he always do....."

The storytelling went on, endless stories of Noriaki's childhood with me went on and on. I could never get tired of taking about him, his memory lives on with me, in my heart and in my soul. It hurts to admit he's gone in this certain young age of seventeen, but he still lives inside me... That came out wrong, but you get my point.

After our not-so brief talk about Nori, it was time for him to leave, when he turns back to me. In his hand, was a black velvet box wrapped with an emerald bow. He said it was my gift for my birthday and wouldn't you know it, the behemoth is a huge softie. He is like an older brother to me, but of course, I would never replace Nori.

Let me tell you this, it wasn't easy being friends with Jotaro. I'm a junior year while he's a senior. And for some god forsaken reason, they thought we were dating... Uh, I like him as a friend/brother. Nothing more, really.

The box... Inside it, was the necklace. The golden chain and the circular emerald pendant, a certain colour I often associated with my older brother as he named his stand's attack just that. Emerald splash... No one could deflect it, as he claims alright. That's what I thought at least, he never aimed the attack on me.

I gave Jotaro a hug before he parted ways with me. The green certainly reminded me of the stand and it's user... I honestly miss them. _____________________________________

"Say Y/N, I say we go get some boba tea after this class! My treat of course!" Your friend beams, posing with a peace sign at you. "It's the least I can do since I wasn't able to attend your birthday yesterday! And it really makes me feel guilty!"

"Oh Ibara you don't have to," you giggled. "But if you insist!"

As of cue, the bell rang to signal class was over. Ibara has always been a close friend of yours since you've transferred in this school. The girl with an obsession for boba milk teas and middle aged actors who were thrice her age. The comforting soul that stuck with you while you mourned for your brother's death and never left your side. After packing you bag, you glanced at the orange haired girl who was already waiting for you in the doorway with an encouraging smile. Giving your friend a smirk, looping your elbows through hers.

"Off we go, Ibara. A certain cherry boba milk tea is calling my name~" you giggled.

"Oh you always get that flavour. You're obsessed with cherries, aren't you? How come you don't try other flavours?" Ibara asks, casting a questioning glance at your direction. "And your pin is even cherry! And your earrings! Seriously! You and your cherry obsession!"

"I don't know why, but I think they taste good and they're oddly aesthetically pleasing." you lied. "I just like how cherries taste and how they look, that's all."

______________________________________

Heavenly... Every moment spent with you is the reason why I lived.

You may not realize it, big brother, but you were a great influence for me. I was hard on myself for not knowing how certain mathematics work, I knew not much about literature, culture, history, sociology and you taught me all about it. Stands, what the fuck were stands? I developed one and I was afraid and you helped me cope with it and now we're friends.

I knew nothing about friendship, but my relationship with you alone made me feel relevant, valid despite being bullied back in elementary. Your influence lurked within me every single time.

Thoughts like "What would big brother Nori do if...." Frequently crossed my mind whenever an inconvenience occured. You are, in a way, my role model. I love how you handle things, the way you think, negotiate, move after thinking... Such a quick witted guy you were. That's how much I look up at you despite I acted mean to you. You never knew how you influenced me to be a person I am today...

I miss you, truly. I wish you weren't dead.

But I have to ask... Why? Why do you always want to make me feel better about myself when you can't even do the same thing for yourself?

You did everything to make me smile, make me feel comfortable, make me feel loved, appreciated, you helped me feel valid while you suffered with your own pain. You bear your pain alone while I had the nerve to unload my personal baggage as if I was the most miserable person there is...

Hell, I don't even know how much you've suffered until you died. I'm such a useless younger sibling who can't even return the same gestures you've made for me... _____________________________________

"Ewww, what is that?" Fifteen year old Y/N Kakyoin pointed at the canvas in which the red haired male painted on.

"Why, it's my very own magnum opus, dearest youngest sibling," Noriaki jokingly stated with a mock posh accent. "It was time that I replace De Vinci, don't you think?" He moves away for you to get a perfect view of his painting.

It was a painting of your Stand that stood behind a street light. The rough painting was difficult to recognise, but the colour scheme was a dead give away for your Stand. You presumed it was still unfinished, considering there was a clear outline of another character that stood in front of your Stand.

"Why would you chose to draw trash like me?" You pointed at yourself, seating yourself on a stool whilst you watched him dip his paintbrush on a pile of mixed paint before making soft, precise stroke on the canvas.

"No don't say that, you're not trash. You're the whole dumpster." He retorts with a smirk. You couldn't see him as he had his back turned away from you, but you highly suspected he was smirking.

"Wow, that's toooootally original," you dragged the vowels, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. "Says the one with a trashy looking hair."

Noriaki chuckles, shaking his head, the dangling cherry earrings he has shook alongside him. "Okay, I take it back. You're not the whole dumpster, nor trash. You're just my cute little sibling." He has this smile that can light the whole damn town with fire, and girls would swoon and fall and dance around that fire like witches in a ritual to summon a demon... Ugh, it sounded too specific, but that's how you'd describe his smile. Irresistible, not easy to contained and it easily affected you as well because in no time, you were smiling just like him.

"Okay, what the fuck did you eat for you to say those things to me? Who are you and what have you done to my Noriaki?" You laughed, poking him by his tiny waist and immediately elicited a flinch and a laugh from him.

"Oh nothing, just feeling particularly thankful for the existence of my younger sibling who is totally relevant and beautiful in every way. They think that they're bad looking and is often feeling down, as they doubt themselves every time makes me feel like a bad brother." He puts the brush down alongside the others and turns to face you. Noriaki firmly places his hands atop your shoulders and shook you repeatedly. "You haven't been completely honest with yourself and your family. I know something's happening to you in your class. Tell me what's wrong."

His firm grip prevented you from escaping, prompting you to pout. Of course he'd know you were being bullied. He always knows something is up. You're starting to think he uses those good looks of his to pull gossips from gossiping school girls who knew of your circumstances. Nevertheless, you sighed, you spilled your problems as he listens intently.

"I just... I don't feel like expressing myself if people can't accept me. They're right though. I'm just an irrelevant trash and— ow!" You were able to barely flinch when his grip tightens around your shoulders.

"You. Are. Valid and beautiful! Don't forget that okay? You're a flame that doesn't deserve to be snuffed out." He reassures. "I know how you feel, but know that there will be people out there who will love you for who you are. You're not irrelevant, you're not trash. You're the best, unique and the only you they will ever meet and they will miss out for not meeting you. I will not stop saying these things if you do not know, scratch that, believe you are one of the most wonderful person everyone will meet."

"Tsk, stop being cheesy you dumb dork." You playfully punched him by his pectoral, trying to deny your glossy eyes to escape, prompting you to coil your arms around his waist to prevent him from seeing it. "Big dumb dork."

"See? There's my little sibling!" He strokes your hair with a soft smile. "So cute and small, growing too fast!"

"You're not mom, you don't have the right to say that." You glanced at him with a smirk, poking a finger on his waist earning a slight flinch from him, as he is ticklish there.

"Well I am your older brother and I am always in charged on watching you," he flicks you by the forehead in retaliation, prompting you to lightly smack his cheek with a toothy grin. "Have you finished packing yet?

"Yep. I honestly can't wait for the trip in Egypt. I think this going to be the best vacation slash celebration of successfully moving to another house." After speaking, you let out a high pitched shriek when he ruffled your hair with his palms with a mischievous chuckle. As you were about to attempt to free yourself from his grip, he tightly held you to his body and resumed ruffling with your hair as you squirmed and moved. Once he had his fun, he released you with a playful chuckle, watching you rearrange your hair. "Ohhh, curse you!"

"Shut up, now go to bed. We still have a flight to catch tomorrow. If you need me I'll be in my room. Good night!" He waves, abandoning you in the living room as you tend to your hair.

"Whatever you cherry sucking idiot." You incoherently mumbled to yourself, straightening your hair into its former glory.

____________________________________

I love you Noriaki... I hope you believe that. Mom and dad are proud of you, they love and miss you so much. Your friends miss you and they are grateful for what you've done for them.

I hope you're doing well up there with the angels and the cherry gods or whatever.

Know that your little sibling is alive and well and living the best years of their life because of you. By this, I will fulfill everything you have never done.

I miss you big brother and you will always live in my heart. _____________________________________

[purplesurveys]

1248

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say?  I feel like I’ve answered a similar situation recently, but I would assume it was a drunk text or wrong text, inform them about it, and move on.

Do you play video games?  Nah. I do feel a sort of connection of video games since I grew up surrounded by them, though; but I’m more of a watcher than anything. I like watching playthroughs of video games I’ll never play. Do you spend a lot of time with family?  No. We used to, back when the quarantine was still a relatively new thing – we hung out in the living room all the time. But now that we’ve settled in this new normal, we’re back to our normal routines and I usually like staying in my room.

Is your house more than two stories tall?  Technically, yes. We have a rooftop that serves as the ‘third’ floor.

Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you?  My ex and I never hit one another; that’s a gigantic red flag even I would notice, considering I ignored most of the ones I saw hahaha.

What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!)  I’m not sure if I’ll be able to answer this question directly, but I like my generosity. I’m not sure if I can call it attractive, though. But if we were focusing on physical features, I like my smile.

What color is your hairbrush/comb?  Pink.

What snacks do you have available in your household atm?  My dad splurged on chips in his last grocery run so we actually have quite a lot of junk food in the pantry at the moment. He also bought several packs of cookie sandwiches, wafers, sunflower seeds, and garlic-flavored peanuts.

Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive?  Neither.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged?  No, she’s just a good friend of mine.

Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you?  I guess I don’t, because I’m not even aware of them.

Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female?  Guy. It was another reporter, so I just ignored it and luckily he didn’t PM me just to ask to add him back, which others have already done. I really hate when work people try to make their way into my personal accounts.

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you?  My parents, especially when they are rude to service crew. Gen X-ers are impeccably talented at that, apparently.

When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate?  Around two or three weeks ago when I had dinner at Angela’s. Her dad gave me a bar of Crunch so I can have something sweet after our meal.

Do you play any games on Facebook?  No, I never did hop on that trend.

What would you like to get a degree in?  I wanted a degree in journalism, and graduated with such. At the end of my college stint I didn’t want to pursue it anymore, but I pushed through with it anyway because it was too much of a hassle to shift and start all over.

Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? Technically not, because I stay up until the middle of the night anyway. It’s been a while since I fell asleep anywhere between 8 to 10 PM.

Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game?  Watch a show.

Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater?  I don’t like either; I get fries instead.

What genre of films do you like the best?  Drama.

How many bank accounts do you have?  Two but I haven’t been using the other one in months. That was the bank account I initially opened when I first started ~adulting~ but when I got employed I was required to enroll in this other specific bank, so that’s what I mainly use now.

Have you ever had the flu?  Not really. I just get the occasional fever that pop out of nowhere.

What is your goal for the next few months?  Start saving FOR REAL, and also prioritizing furniture over merch for a while so I can finally fix up my room, which is quickly starting to look and feel like just a warehouse and not very homey at all.

Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life?  Nope.

Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience.  Yeah, it was from barbecue that apparently went bad, even though it tasted nothing of the sort. I woke up at 3 AM sweating profusely and with the most excruciating stomachache; I was feeling hot, cold, and nauseous all at the same time, and it probably lasted for like an hour or so.

What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for?  Sealed albums and my pets’ vet expenses.

Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex.  Charming and smart.

Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it?  It felt nice to help people.

You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? Good question; I’ve never encountered this before. I would let her live a more comfortable, privileged life, where she didn’t have to staple her shoes to keep them closed or have to choose between eating at a fast food restaurant or being able to commute back home.

Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? I’m not sure, actually. Everyone’s always slightly taller than me.

Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you?  I haven’t.

Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see?  Tumblr, I guess? My survey blog isn’t for any irls to see.

Which is worse: dusting or mopping?  I don’t really do either often, but I’ll go with mopping.

Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious?  Not for me.

Did you pull a senior prank?  No, that’s not a thing here. Did you graduate?  Yeah, elementary, high school, and college.

Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship?  Nope.

What was the last song you listened to?  It’s a song called Epiphany.

Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision?  Not ever since I was like 9 lol.

Is fashion one of your interests?  I’m way more interested in it now for sure, mostly because the celebrities I’m into these days put a lot of effort when it comes to their style; so it makes me more aware of the trends that come and go, as well.

Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone?  I’m keeping it as a possibility, but it’s not a priority for me now.

Do you care what people think?  To an extent, I would say. My life doesn’t depend on it, though.

Is acting something you enjoy?  Never been.

What was the last thing you broke/sprained?  Do you mean a thing or a body part? Anyway, I’ll answer both. The last thing I broke was my BTS Mic Drop pen of V looooooooooool the figurine came off the pen :(( It was pretty cheap though so I’m fine with it; I can always get another one. Last body part I sprained was my ankle, when I had a bad fall a couple of years ago.

Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours?  Either hasn’t happened.

Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language?  I don’t think so.

Whose house, other than yours and your families', are you most comfortable at?  Angela’s. Also JM’s, just because their family doesn’t hover and that vibe can sometimes be nice whenever I’m at someone else’s place.

Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you?  Never.

Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? Not as a very young kid, but I took up table tennis starting when I was 12. Did you ever watch the show Full House?  Nope.

Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry?  Now that’s just delusional haha. I’m pretty obsessed with some celebrities, that much I can admit; but thinking of them in the context of marriage is so many steps overboard.

Have you ever burned someone’s picture?  No. I could, but I am scared of fire and will probably just think of other ways to express my anger, like tearing up the photograph. What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on?  Total length was probably like 3 hours. I haven’t gone too far when it comes to hiking.

Would you ever get a lip tattoo?  Not interested.

Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? Hans.

Do your parents smoke cigarettes?  My mom tried it once in her life, I think. My dad has never smoked.

What does one of your T-shirts have written on it?  “Hope right here!”

Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want.  Anything that’s supposed to roam freely in the wild, like squirrels.

Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller?  Taller, since I’m already quite pint-sized to begin with lol.

Do you enjoy going through old pictures? Sometimes. Other times, it's too painful. It also depends on the era of the pictures. < Agree, especially with the eras. Childhood photos are always fun to look at, but I have had to delete a CHUNK of photos from years ranging from 2014 to 2020 because I’ve lost a handful of friends from that period.

Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people?  It’s hard to for the most part, but I’ve noticed very few people people really don’t. Most of the time it’s bullshit though.

What did you love the most about the town you grew up in?  That it’s pretty close to the metro.

What’s a movie that you laughed the hardest during?  Hmm, I prefer TV shows if I’m craving comedy.

What’s a movie you cried the hardest during?  Life Is Beautiful.

What’s your favorite restaurant?  Omakase for my sushi fix; School Tteokbokki if I want Korean; Yabu if I’m looking for a generous rice meal.

Is there a dessert you don’t like?  Anything with fruits.

Favorite album?  After Laughter by Paramore.

What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it?  I can name authors instead of books – John Green and Haruki Murakami.

Underwater or outer space?  Outer space.

Dogs or cats?  Dogs.

Kittens or puppies?  Puppies.

Bird watching or whale watching?  Whale watching. I don’t get to be in the water as much, so I would jump at the opportunity.

What is your spirit animal?  I dunno if I have one but let’s just go with dog and elephant, I guess? They’re my favorites.

What was your best subject in school?  History.

What was your worst subject in school?  Chemistry.

What is one thing you wish you knew in high school?  Don’t waste your time.

Who is your fashion icon?  Audrey Hepburn.

Diamonds or pearls?  Diamonds.

What color dress did you wear to prom?  For my own prom it was cream-colored/beige. When I went to Mike’s ball, I went with a royal blue gown.

What’s your favorite plot-twist?  I don’t think I’ve found my favorite yet.

Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now?  Not actively.

Honestly, what’s the worst thing you’ve done when you were mad?  I dunno...road rage, maybe?

Honestly, ever made anyone cry when you were mad?  It’s very likely.

Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out?  Sometime in the last week.

Ever pop someone else’s pimple? No thanks.

Do you need to return anyone’s phone call?  Nope.

Who are you closest to?  Angela.

Have you ever had a bad concert experience?  No, all the ones I’ve been to have been amazing experiences.

Are you currently sad about anything?  Not really. I can’t complain.

Have you had any form of exercise today?  Nah.

Can you handle blood?  Nope, I will feel faint if I see it 100%.

Has any place hired you underage for a job?  No.

Have you ever carried a concealed weapon?  I haven’t.

Are you currently searching for a job?  No, I like the one I have.

Does eating breakfast make you sick?  No?

[illimitablespaces]

1,8,9,10,25,63,70,135 c:

1. a book that is close to your heart

There have been many books that have found room for residence within my heart but two came to mind, both from my younger years. The first is Stellaluna, by Jannell Cannon. I still remember the day--in kindergarten, as I recall--when I picked up the book at one of those "book days" which seemed to come around every month or so in grade school. I was ecstatic. It remains a much-loved book from those ever-important foundational reading years. The second, A Dragon in a Wagon, by Lynley Dodd, was read to me by my grandmother many times when I visited her home. Somewhere, there is a photograph of her and myself reading it together. So, these two books are close to my heart for quite sentimental reasons.

8. a book you finished in one sitting

I remember when my copy of Ted Hughes' Crow first arrived by mail and I sat in a high-back chair in the sitting room of my parents, devouring every word. It is a small book of verse but I was transfixed by the mouthfeel of the words and the way Hughes got my heart to jump and race that afterward I felt quite spent. It was a most enjoyable and delectable read. Now I wish to do it all over again!

By the way, there is a recording I made of my recitation of one of the poems from that book...

9. your favourite book of 2020

Now, does this mean a book published in the year 2020, or a book which simply happened to my favorite of that year? In any case, I must cite a series of books here, as there is too much goodness to narrow it down to one book alone. There is a series (which actually comprise one work, Iḥyā′ 'Ulūm al-Dīn, or, The Revival of the Religious Sciences) by Al-Ghazali which has caused me to examine my life more critically than any other writing I have encountered. The translations from this series (which I provided in the link) seem to me most timely and apropos. My suggestion is to follow the link and seek out one of the books, whichever inspires your curiosity, and read it for yourself.

10. a book that got you through something

As much as it can be said to be a book, I am compelled to put here the Qur'an, especially the interpretation by Muhammad Asad. In brief, I did not exactly have a religious upbringing: I was baptized a Catholic before I could speak but never have been confirmed. I considered myself agnostic, then atheist, then I came back to the Gospel on my own in my teens. I rarely went to church in my youth but I had a post as organist in a Catholic church for some eight years after I graduated high school. Those days playing organ and singing in choir were often affirming and beautiful and sometimes sublime (especially the midnight masses on Christmas and Easter with the chant and Latin and wow!). And now, in my thirtieth year, I have been a decided follower of Islam for about two years. I have been reading the Qur'an for some six years and I have been learning of the religion along the way. I say with certainty that some (i.e. all) days the only thing that gets me through to seeing another morning is the remembrance of God and the contemplation of His attributes.

25. a book by your favourite author

It is always difficult for me to choose favorites as I seem to have such an array of diverse authors and works from which to choose. For the sake of providing an answer, I will select Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton. As a child I remember first reading that book when I was about ten years old and I read it again multiple times in my teen years. I read quite a few books by Crichton when I was younger but I think now that I'm older they won't have quite the same effect. Still, I have fond memories of hours spent reading his novels and becoming very much engrossed in those worlds of words.

63. a book that actually made you laugh out loud

Now that I have set myself to answering these, I return again and again to those books from my youth which I recall with much pleasure and amusement.

I remember reading many of Roald Dahl's books and finding them utterly hilarious. A few years ago I read aloud from Esio Trot with my partner and the funniness was almost too much for us--I like to perform an interpretive reading when I read aloud, complete with all sorts of inflections and character voices. Which reminds me, I should have another go at something like that.

70. your favourite poetry collection

Oh dear, this is a tough one... I have a copy of the complete poems of Federico García Lorca with many bookmarks (little scraps of paper; impromptu), dog-ears, and bits of underlining that has been the source of much joy and inspiration. In part, I think the sheer voluminous number of poems from García Lorca's pen is staggeringly rich that it dazzles me to imagine it coming from one man's life--my impression is that many ages and lives are bound in his work and I admire it greatly.

On the other--another?--hand, the complete poems of T. S Eliot are also a source of joy and inspiration to me as well. Since reading his work seriously with my partner, I look upon Eliot as a kindred spirit of sorts... there is a certain course of energy which I sense in his poetry, something humbling yet quietly exalting. Each time I read a poem of Eliot's, I am reminded of something Stravinsky said about Eliot being quite a wise man, and I agree.

135. recommend any book you like!

I will give two titles, since that is a theme I have kept up here.

The first is Isaac Newton's Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica. I have not read it in full but what I have read (in translation) is beautiful. I am delighted in discovering that the things taught to me in school and at my time in university have proven to be quite useless, often. The short of it is that Newton and his work were always presented to me in an elementary and somewhat condescending manner. Getting to know a work for one's self is truly gratifying and it has made me more eager than ever to acquire, read, and learn whatever it is about which I may be curious.

The other which I will recommend to you is the Book of Optics, by Ibn al-Haytham. I don't think I have ever been more fascinated and amazed by a scientific text than when I read from this one (again, in translation). My only comment is to follow the link and read at your own discretion and pleasure.

Thank you, @ant-soul, for sending these my way. It was truly enjoyable for me to ponder and provide answers to you and all other Dear Readers.

[allthingsfangirl101]

SC Chapter 11: A New Man In Reality

Masterlist

As I got ready for work, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd be teaching if I was in my classroom. The students' pieces inspired by Van Gogh's Starry Night are due Friday, and I found myself wondering how they were doing.

I walked into my office and saw Abigail sorting through the files. She looked up when she heard me come in.

"Morning, Abigail," I said. Usually, Abigial greets me first in the morning. By me greeting her first, she looked up at me confused.

"Good morning, sir," she said slowly.

"What cases are we working on today?" I asked her. She grabbed her notes like she was ready to follow me, but froze when I didn't walk into my office like usual.

"Well," she said, clearing her throat. "You have Wilson and Anderson both coming in today. They are coming in at 1."

"Great," I nodded. "Do we have anyone else that afternoon?"

"I knew that Wilson and Anderson would be arguing until we kicked them out, so I rescheduled your one-on-one with Hanson."

I surprised Abigail by laughing. "That was smart, Abigail. Quick thinking."

"Thanks," she stuttered as she reached up and cupped a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Here is the file on Wilson and Anderson," she said as she handed me the folder. "The notes from last week should be. . ."

We were both holding the folder when she stopped talking. "Are you okay?" I asked, neither one of us letting go of the folder.

"You have something on your hand," she said. She looked up at me, her eyes slightly widening when she met my eyes. She quickly let go of the file and cleared her throat.

"I have some wipes that might help." She cleared her throat again as she put her notebook down and grabbed some wipes from her bottom desk drawer.

"Here," she said, handing them to me.

"Thanks," I smiled at her. I grabbed a wipe and started cleaning the paint from last night off my hands.

"What is that?" She said slowly like she wasn't sure how'd I react to her question.

"It's paint," I said with a small chuckle.

"You paint?"

I looked up to see her genuinely surprised. "Yeah," I smiled. "I do. Mostly oil, but I use acrylic when it's absolutely necessary."

"Wow," she said under her breath. "Do you have any of your work with you?"

Her eyes widened like she realized what she said. "Never mind," she started to nervously stutter. "You don't have to show me anything. I was just curious."

"I don't mind," I shrugged. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and searched through my photos. "This is the mural I did for my neighbor's son. It was from a picture the photographer took at the wedding, but my neighbor wanted me to paint it."

"Wow," she said again. "This is incredible. I had no idea. . ."

She stopped talking when she looked up at me. Her cheeks turned red when she noticed how close we were. She cleared her throat and handed me back my phone.

"Wilson and Anderson will be here at one," she said, going back to her business-as-usual demeanor. "Until then, Mr. Taylor was wondering if you could be his co-council on a big merger. He wanted you to stop by his office once you got in."

"I'll head over there now," I nodded.

I stared at her for a second before she turned around and sat at her desk. I headed into my office, dropping my bag on the ground. I looked up and watched as Abigail went back to work like nothing happened.

Was she always this shy around me?

                                * * * * *

"Mr. Efron seems different."

I stopped when I heard Lily, Mr. Taylor's assistant, talking to Abigail in the copier room.

"What do you mean?" Abigail asked almost hesitantly.

"Come on," Lily chuckled. "He's totally changed how he treats you, Abby. Haven't you noticed him apologizing more and thanking you more? When was the last time he asked you to get him an Uber?"

"It's been a few days," Abigail admitted slowly.

"See?" Lily giggled. "Mr. Efron has been completely different. He's even nicer about how he asks you to do things. He's not barking orders at you anymore."

"He's never. . . Mr. Efron doesn't bark orders at me."

"Yeah, he did," Lilly said oddly. "He never used to say please."

"Lily," Abigail sighed. "Come on. He's not that bad."

"Is it true that you've actually known each other since elementary school?"

I heard Abigail clear her throat as she hesitated. "We did," she finally said. "But I don't think he remembers me."

"How could he not remember you?"

"It's just. . ." Abigail sighed, quickly clearing her throat when her breath got caught in her throat. "I don't know. When he first hired me, he didn't acknowledge that we knew each other. He started calling me Abigail and acted like we'd never met."

"See? No one calls you by your full name except for Mr. Efron." I heard Lily sigh, scoffing slightly. "I can't believe he doesn't remember you. And if he does, pretending not to is worse."