#i enjoy everyone else’s content but since she’s my bias i just have more to say like idk

[cyberfunsupporter]

even if i am literally not talking about yeri in the slightest i find a way to circle back to her which is honestly impressive . and i’m not even doing that consciously which i think is even worse . really what has the world been doing without me 💜

[hellaverse-critical-confessions]

I have seen many clips of Hazbin Hotel. And while I do enjoy some of it (some of the songs, Alastor and Vox in general) I do have to admit as well there is stuff I do not like.

I do not like how rushed the show is. If each episode is supposed to be a month like everyone claims then jesus fuck that is just…bad…bad story writing. And leaves very little for development. Angel has the most development as of now I believe?

Then there is some of the characters, mainly Mimzy and Cherri Bomb. They are…not good. Mimzy is a selfish brat, but then again I think she was originally always supposed to be that way so I will give her some slack there. But Cherri Bomb feels like someone who wants to reenforce unhealthy coping mechs, which sucks since she is Angel’s friend. Now I should state, I remember Hazbin and got into it when it was just a Pilot and the Addict music video was our only source of canon Hazbin content, so maybe i am bias in that front. But ughh. Idk man. Maybe its because im happy Angel is improving himself i dont want someone else to ruin that for him :/.

And this is more fandom critical so I hope u dont mind but. I really fucking hate the shipping wars going on. Especially now since Hells Greatest Dad where Alastor says Charlie can call him dad to get under Lucifer’s skin. Vizie, who will i have problems with, told people they could go nuts with shipping i believe in an old tweet! But noooo. Just fight fight fight. But even then, how the fandom reacts in gen is why i rather stay on the sidelines and just talk about the show with friends. The fandom is fucking scary :(.

I've seen rumors around that they've had things progress at the pace of your average tween-produced Wattpad fanfiction because they couldn't certainly count on a second season... which to my knowledge, they will be getting, so that makes the decision sadder in hindsight.

But I do feel you in that last paragraph, Anon. Sometimes it's best to chill in a corner with our shows and keep a great distance from all the empassioned lunatics.

[dazz-linglight]

OMG ANOTHER ONLY B?!?!

Hey, HI 👋 I'm Rain. She/they. Nice to meet you.

I am appalled by the lack of content for Just B. Can you write something, literally anything with Geonu please!?!? He is my top bias of all time and my brain runs wild for him.

(Hii Rain, and yes! I plan to post a lot for Just B this year <3 love them)

(decided to do college lovers for him, hope you enjoy <3)

(happy birthday for him!!!)

Keep Driving

Starting your first week in college surely made you nervous, but everything felt easier when you met him. Lee Geonu. Sharing most of your classes with him during the week you noticed that he isn't the stereotypical popular guy like some others. He is sweet, so intelligent and bright, smiles a lot and seems very loyal and careful to his friends. You don't have the courage to approach him to talk but the two of you exchange a few glances through the day.

In the next week you find out he's working part time at the cafeteria in front of the university and you make it a habit of going there after classes to get coffee. You're aware that you are developing a crush on him but you guess but there's never really a thought that you have a chance to actually go out with him since he's a young and handsome guy and probably could have eyes on someone else already.

You get the opportunity to talk to him when the professor announces the first group activity for a class. Surprisigly, Geonu was the one to come over to you to ask if you wanted to be a part of his group for the activity and you accepted it, receiving a bright smile of his. "Oh god, I'm fucked over this guy." You think while smiling back, trying not make it obvious how much you freaking out inside. You move to sit with him and other colleagues to plan the activity and everyone agrees to have Geonu as the leader since he showed bigger interest.

The week go by, the acitivty is done and you developed some kind of proximity with Geonu, he started sitting next to you for all the classes you had together and weeks turn into months and you slowly notice that he always laughs at your jokes, looks at you like you're the most interesting person in the room and smiles when he sees you walk in the cafeteria he works in and how he's always sharing silly memes with you.

You're not sure what's going on, until you do. That feeling happens in a flash: You're in love with him. And there's a small impression that he's in love with you too. All your friends already noticed how you two interact differently, the longing stares, the subtle touches. Everybody silently waiting for the day you would appear holding hands.

He caught you off-guard one day when he had to leave early from class and patted your head leaning in to your ear and said:

"Bye darling, when you're going home text me, okay? I need to know if you're safe." You just nodded and said a quick bye, not trusting yourself to say more because your stomach was full of butterflies and right before he left he gave you a kiss on the forehead, not staying to see your jaw drop to the floor.  After the shock passed you finally decided you had to confess. The semester was close to ending and you didn't want to hide your feelings and risk losing him anymore, so you did as he asked and sent a message later.

You: I'm going home now. Are you free after work?

Him: yeah, wanna go out?

You: yes.

Him: oki. Pick u up at 6.

You read his last message and feel your heart beaating faster. The hours pass and you get ready until he arrives on his car, sending you a message to come out. When you do, he opens the passenger door for you to get in and show that smile the makes you weak again as you sit and close the door.

"Hello, beautiful lady" He sweet talked and you could barely move, speak, breath for a moment, feeling the tension of being so close to him in a small space. He felt it too as he started the car and left the neighboorhood you live in.

"There's something I want to tell you, Geonu." You talk in a low tone as if the windows would break if you were louder, breathing in slowly and looking over to his side profile.

"Me too, _____." He locks eyes with you shortly before getting his attention back on the street ahead. His voice stays calm, you instantly feel a gentle breeze of air sending shivers all over your body. "I don't want to be your friend anymore." Your breath hitches as you take him his words.

"Don't get me wrong, it's just.. I want to be more than a friend to you." He stops by the red light and turns to look fully at you. He tucks a stand of hair behind your ear and brings your forehead to his softly. "There's not a day I don't think about you since we met."

"Thank you.. I was afraid I was the only one to feel like that.." He felt your trembling hand meet his, intertwining fingers on his lap since he had to go back to driving.

That night he took you for dinner, you both talked about your feelings and everything you felt towards each other, filling the table with sweet nothings and officially marking the first day of your new relantionship status. The next day in college you were glued to each other, Geonu making sure to announce to your friends that you were dating.

"FINALLY!" You heard the chant and all of them shwed happiness with the news.

[flamechasr]

7, 20, 23?

7. who is your least favorite character?

i don't hate anyone ! i mean this with my whole heart. even with like dori she's just kind of a (rolls eyes) character for me. i also kinda grew to tolerate eula at some point even though she's still a (rolls eyes) too. i used to mildly dislike miko but she's ok now, and baizhu who is more of a bwehh type for personal reasons. but again i think everyone is fine and very lovely i love teyvat >w<

20. who is the most useful character in your opinion?

there's zhongli, still the best shielder since 1.1, great for everything, can fit into most teams, if you have him you won't have to worry about taking damage especially if you're bad at dodging. if not zhongli then you should at least pick another shielder to build, like diona is great especially with cryo dpses. some of the higher investment 4*s like bennett, xingqiu, xiangling, fischl - everyone else has their own kind of niche but you can never go wrong with raising these four, at least bennett if no one else. he's a double healer and buffer which will do you well especially in endgame content. xingqiu as an off-field hydro applicator who deals a lot of damage when built well (yelan is better in this role but i believe c6 xingqiu can definitely compare to her). xiangling is actually a beast as one of the standing burst pyro dpses who works in the national comp with bennett and xingqiu. and then fischl as a well-rounded off field electro dps and battery to pair with your hydro or dendro dpses ! speaking of dendro nahida is just really great, and i believe shinobu has also become a top pick as electro support in dendro teams since she heals, but probably otherwise fischl is better since fischl can deal significant damage. funnily enough with the introduction of dendro, it seems like most people have been using raiden shogun less as a hypercarry and more as an electro enabler in dendro teams, but i remember raiden national being a really good comp too. there's also the category of anemo ccs like sucrose, kazuha, venti - i don't think venti is very good nowadays but kazuha is definitely up there being one of the best and sucrose is basically budget kazuha. for main dpses it's extremely volatile, like in my time the top 3 were ayaka, hu tao, and ganyu, but i think ganyu has fallen off. hu tao and ayaka are still great though in pyro and cryo respectively, and according to my qpp neuvillette is the number 1 dps right now especially with fontaine rolling out a new hydro meta. navia is also very good in terms of pure damage but she's like way different from her geo friends. and thenn i believe for dendro the top pick is alhaitham. i'm not saying that out of bias at all i'm pretty sure he is HSJDHS. electro and anemo are a bit obsolete at this moment in terms of dps since electro is mostly used to pair for dendro and anemo just can't beat the support element allegations. xiao fell off a long time ago and apparently wanderer wasn't very good either. but i do think these two have a fun playstyle and as long as you have fun yknow!

23. bow, sword, polearm, claymore or catalyst?

my favorite is polearm followed by sword! i looove spamming fast attacks. my favorites have always been those like zhongli, rosaria, xiao, thoma, cyno, and then sword of course being aya - i also enjoy bow but i kind of have skill issue with them... i think because i play tighnari a lot on my qpp's account and he does have a fun playstyle to me !

[wincore]

runway (m) | jung yoonoh

pairing: model!jaehyun x fashion designer!reader

words: 18.7k

summary: there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts. 

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, light smut, comedy-ish

warnings: sexual content, mentions of anxiety

a/n: woohooooooo she’s finally here!!!! i cant believe this!! everything aside, i do not have first hand experience working in the fashion industry so please do take this with a grain of salt. i’m also going to pass out. good night <3

A list of things you appreciate: colours, satin, comfort.

A list of things you do not appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.

The hum of the car engine has little effect on you; you travel like this almost every day. Tall buildings, scorching pavement, the blare of traffic—it’s Seoul, after all. You sigh, more of a short expression of annoyance, scrolling down with your thumb and back up again. Since when did he get permission to post pictures from pre-fittings? And one of your works, no less. 

His feed is so messy. You click your tongue. For a model, that is. 

You open the story again and consider messaging him. It’s your cherry red coat, or rather the collar of it, golden thread sewn in swirls of patterns, and a sheer floral shirt extending all the way up to cover Jaehyun’s neck. You frown. It’s meant for showcase, not teasers. Even if the picture extends just from the curve of his shoulder to his parted lips, you can’t stand the sight of it on him. It’s not bias, you try to tell yourself. This is business. You tap your fingertips rapidly against the back of your phone. This is obviously business. 

Seoul Fashion Week is the height of your anxiety, which means you have little regard for anything else decorated around you. With a new frenzy arising in every minute of your day—you don’t have time to think, a sense of madness in the way you keep busy. Your Elixir collection is more than what you had hoped for it to be, a twinge of satisfaction sitting at the pit of your stomach. It nicely puts together everything rich and extravagant, humanity’s first love—everything you despise really, so Jaehyun wasn’t a bad choice for a model. 

You backspace on your text. Is this rude? Should you care if you’re being rude? How unprofessional, you imagine his voice saying. It wouldn’t be the first unprofessional thing you’d done.

The final text reads ‘Glad you’re enjoying my designs, but they were not meant to be publicly displayed before the official show, as common sense predicts.’ 

No, of course you’re not trying to be snarky. It’s perfectly formal. All that time writing professional complaint letters to companies for ripping off your designs paid off, you suppose.

You exit the Uber, thanking the driver quickly before you rush into the building, checking the time on your watch. It’s sunny, and hotter than you anticipated. You can only hope it’s cooler tomorrow so the heat doesn’t suffocate your models.

The company building is another madness in its own. Joohyun greets you with a quick smile, a bunch of fabrics being handed to her before she can make any conversation with you, and the rest of the workers bow in greeting before getting back to their own individual windstorms. You step over a few boxes on the grounds, beelining to your workspace so you can settle down your bag.

You’re team leader, you tell yourself, a short breath tumbling out of your mouth. Even so, you don’t do very well under several pairs of eyes on you at once. Some part of you is still the timid fashion designer, packing your entire identity into a small sketchbook.

The sunlight is blaring out of control in the place—it’s meant to be spacious and sunlit, of course, but the heat makes you adjust your collar before you can move forward. The bustle of the style and design team along with the production team in the same place is akin to a nightmare, and you trace your steps quickly.

“Guys,” you begin, fidgeting with the leather strap of your watch as you continue, “Firstly, good job.”

There’s a bunch of short cheers and clapping to interrupt before you can continue. 

“As for tomorrow…stylists, I need you to touch up the collars in all the Western-style coats. The detailing needs to be kept clean and sharp. I want the audience to be able to see it.”

You pause, your tone still neutral. “And let’s not start again on the lacing. We had that discussion yesterday.” 

There’s some nods and sounds of affirmation. 

“Production team…I don’t think I can say much to you without Doyoung getting on my case.”

There’s collective laughter and you crack a smile. With a few more rapid words, you dismiss yourself, walking over to your colleagues to help them out. You’re team leader, the one with the final say in all the designs, but you can’t possibly imagine completing it without Joohyun or the others. 

“Good pep talk there, (name),” Joohyun says, walking over to you as her hands sharp and steady as they go through the clothes rack. 

“They think I’m an asshole,” you say, breathing out. You know your words are too direct. Drunk co-workers on a Friday night are not the best place to discover facts about yourself. Sometimes even you think you sound bossy. You check the key parts for each item, knowing you’ll be doing this once again before the show.

“We wouldn’t be going anywhere without direction,” Joohyun responds, laughing as if you’d said something silly. “We’re all glad you’re here, (name).”

Words like these are so easing for a mess like you, not that you’d admit it. Joohyun has always been a sort of mother figure to you after you entered this company, followed by Doyoung. A good few years senior to you, she started out as a model before she moved on to designing. 

It’s her last year working in this place. But of course, it’s a given when she’s starting her own label (mom clothes and children’s apparel, she’d called her clothing line, rolling her eyes) and one of the most well-known names in South Korean fashion not having her own label is sacrilege (according to your colleagues anyway). She’d said to contact her when you start your own family, and maybe she’ll send a congratulations package for both you and your baby. You’d laughed. Out of all the insults you could ever receive, that was perhaps the loveliest one.

Ridiculousness aside, you’ll miss the comfort of her presence. You were still in school when your designs led you to a showcase in New York Fashion Week, your sponsor more than generous. You stepped into it too soon, too eager. It was breath-taking and awful all at once—and the first time you saw a world outside of your own. It was overwhelming. There are few people in this new world as kind as Joohyun.

The sound of your notification snaps you out of your thoughts. You swear you kept it on vibrate, a little irked at having to search for your phone when your hands are full. The notification itself brings on a stronger wave of vexation.

_jeongjaehyun:

My manager told me it was good publicity

But I could take it down for you

The ‘for you’ adds an unnecessary effect, you think as you hold back a scowl. And what does ‘could’ mean? A miscommunication with the sales team isn’t even on the list of things you need to worry about. Honestly, you don’t have time to fight him, quickly typing out a ‘whatever. it’s okay’ before looking back up.

You jump, the look on Joohyun’s face a little suspicious for what might come out of her mouth.

“It’s not a crime to text people.” She shrugs, shuffling through the rack one more time to take the clothes for transportation. 

You’re quick to jump to your defence. “I have nothing to do with him.”

Joohyun looks at you, amused. “He’s not a bad person, you know? How long are you going to keep hating him for one thing he did?”

“It’s not one thing,” you groan, averting your gaze to the clothes so as to help her. “I just- he’s so- so- oh come on. You know how I feel about him.”

“I’m just saying you don’t have any reason to. Everyone’s different from what they appear to be. Especially in this line of work.” Joohyun balances the clothes you give her across her forearms.

“So he’s fake. I hate that even more.” You sigh, pulling out the blue silk overcoat, the colour matching Joohyun’s work dress.

“You mean unreal? Models tend to be that way—don’t be so harsh on him, honey.”

You simply shake your head, words entering one ear and out the other. Joohyun presses her lips into a line but lets it go soon enough. She knows you’re capable enough to separate professional from personal and that should be enough. You’re not keeping a tab on something as warming as spite. 

You can’t believe you’d ever been within five feet of him without turning your nose. You can’t believe you’d smiled at his jokes once, even if it was just that one night. He was the godsent Prince Charming, just perhaps not yours. Paris surely had a distressing effect on you that year. 

You don’t make the same mistake twice.

You walk back to your desk to take a seat and scavenge through your belongings, most of the people already outside. Fashion Week, which once upon a time was a faraway dream, now is part of life—exciting and exhausting. It’s almost always over in a flash, your love for it whisked in peaks of bittersweet. (“You work your ass off for six months and it’s, what, fifteen minutes long?” your mother had asked after you’d brought her to one of the shows.)

This line of work is a nightmare without mental preparation. You have a degree, you have experience and yet it doesn’t feel enough, confidence easier to drain in a person than blood. And you’re not very fond of pale cheeks.

It came to asking yourself if you really have it in you for a few months—a test of sorts everyone puts themselves through at least once in their lives. At that time, your favourite professor, a bald man nearing his retirement years with the wrinkliest face you’d ever seen, had asked you just one question. 

Do you love it? 

Of course you fucking do. 

You couldn’t say that to his face, sure, but you know he saw it in you—either the effort you put out every day of the semester or the way your hands moved across fabric like a machine, your designs made with the persistence of nature. Your final year project landed you an internship at one of the largest clothing brands in Seoul and your internship landed you a job at the same. Your job, well, lead you to Jaehyun, among many other things. 

You scowl at the image of his face that appears when you close your eyes, massaging your forehead—it’s hard to not see it everywhere already, from Cosmopolitan to Vogue.

While you were biting your nails in New York, Jaehyun had flown out to Paris with Saint Laurent, one of the younger male models to show his face for the first time. He’d taken the whole place by storm, you had heard from a friend. To say half the world had fallen in love—either with his dimples or his confident walk—would be an understatement. A privilege, to be gold-plated in a mercenary world.

You’d briefly made eye contact at the airport the first time you saw him, a year later, when you were arriving in Incheon and he was leaving it. It was London, that time. For him, Milan. As much as you couldn’t believe living a fashion student’s dream, Jaehyun’s face was truly, unironically much more unrealistic. Your classmates’ gabs and gossip in sewing class had suddenly made sense. You taught yourself to not be swayed by faces, even if they look like they’re stitched together by Aphrodite and Apollo with their bare hands—friendly advice from seniors at the orientation night ‘party’. 

You’d met him formally in Paris, after you’d graduated from fashion school. He was certainly the most beautiful face in the room—and you weren’t the only one aware of it. The entire night you’d been starting conversations you couldn’t relate to, till he came along with his charming dimples and a faux connect. You were naive, and a little tipsy. The attraction was obvious, and it had been you by the bathroom pulling him in for a drunk kiss till he’d snapped out of the daze—as if it were some joke you’d been playing. He’d apologized before leaving, like it wasn’t a big deal, with silken lips parted in a gesture of remorse and a short, firm bow. It didn’t settle very well alongside the merlot in your gut.

You. You’re a big deal. 

You were alone in a room full of painted faces and he sat atop the throne they worshipped. Why had you expected any more from him—in the understanding nods or the few kind words that escaped his lips? You felt stupid. He made you feel like smiling for the first time that night and you hated him for it—you’re sure he doesn’t care either way. Or maybe he does, with the wonderfully irked responses he graces you with. 

Jaehyun made something out of himself in these nine years, just as you have. Runway supermodel to the face of South Korean men in fashion to an entrepreneur, he might as well have a documentary on him—and he would if he didn’t evade paparazzi and reporters like his life depended on it. Enigmatic, the articles wrote. You scoffed. Conceited, more like. After the initial years, he decided to settle in New York, frequently flying to Seoul and other fashion capitals for business and contractual events. Some of those occasionally include your shows.

Having Jaehyun gets more attention but it’s not like you’re a new, doe-eyed kid. Your works have been featured for popstars and foreign celebrities, and you’ve been invited to several interviews with big magazines. You’ve gone global (albeit under the brand’s name) and you’ve been to places you’d only seen pictures of in the very same magazines you looked up to. They can describe your work as unique all they want—and you don’t mean to sound fucking pretentious—but your job is nothing more than an expression of the self. It’s a part of you; you first started sewing patches onto things simply because your closet lacked colour. And eventually, you found yourself searching for more—colours, fabrics, dreams. You’re devoted to your job because you love it, you want to do it. You’re allowed to be a little arrogant about it. 

If only trying desperately to be arrogant did something about your insecurities.

You hope your works redefine themes, your need to stand out contrasting with your fear of it. Eye-catching is always your forte; this time it’s fairy tales and royalty in a mix of East meets West. 

D-1. Same feeling, new season.

The press is here, you take note. Photographers. Models. Students. Vloggers. It’s a burst of colours down there.

You hate running late, rushing down the stairs to the plaza through the crowds of people. Some recognize you, as they make their way to you but you end up walking a little faster to minimize your presence.  You curse yourself for wearing the jacket. It goes nicely with the rest of your outfit and March isn’t supposed to be this hot. You wipe the sweat from your hairline, hoping the makeup is waterproof like it said.

You consider stopping at the café for a fix of coffee but stop when you notice Joohyun holding a bunch of cups by the venue. She doesn’t look too happy about the sun, or the burdening errand of fetching coffee. You adjust her little red beret at her request, smiling at her annoyance but trying your best to keep it hidden. You don’t want to get cussed out by Joohyun. 

“Someone tell Doyoung to get his coffee,” Joohyun complains. “I’ve been waiting for half an hour.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” you say, sipping your coffee. The taste fills your senses with a pleasant dose of energy and you hum out a satisfied note. “Why are there so many students out here? Influencers? Did we sponsor this many kids?” 

Joohyun shakes her head.  “Jaehyun just got here.”

You suppress an eye-roll. “Wonder why he still comes back for Seoul when he’s booked full for New York.”

“It’s his hometown.” Joohyun shrugs. “I’d come back too. Even if I’m paid more out there.”

You finish your coffee and duck into the fitting room, much to Joohyun’s displeasure as she’s left alone again. Doyoung’s in for an earful, you chuckle thinking about it.

It would look like a hell of a mess to anyone not accustomed to this. Everyone is a flurry by themselves alone but if you mix them with the eclectic crowd you find at a Seoul Fashion Week backstage, it’s more of a disaster. A colorful one, at the very least. 

New York was worse. You were too young, in a world that was too big. It’s a miracle you even received an opportunity from so big a name. But, you suppose, it hardly matters now.

You no longer live in a world where Seoul is far from Paris. Fashion and art are things unmarked by place of origin.

It’s easy to spot Jaehyun in a corner, two people adjusting his coat for better fitting at the waist. His makeup’s done, you notice as you get closer. Good, you think. If any makeup were to get on the fabric, you’d go feral (although you do have full confidence in the makeup artists here and their choice of product).

“Jaehyun,” you greet. Your co-workers give each other a look before excusing themselves. You raise an eyebrow, too late to stop them. They didn’t finish the looping of the belt properly, you take notice. You wrinkle your nose. Sloppy. 

“(name).” He responds with an equal lack of amusement. 

You pull the belt at his waist, Jaehyun stiffening at the contact.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“My job? What do you think, genius?”

Jaehyun presses his lips together and lets you complete the altercations. The chiffon shirt allows you to see the hazed definition of his core, a rather flustering thing to be exposed to for anyone with eyes. When you look up in a moment’s mistake, you’re reminded of why his face is everywhere. Flawless, almost. You hate it. Averting your eyes, you fix the collar so the pattern stands out more. You can feel his eyes over your outstretched hand all the way to your face, subtle as ever. If Jaehyun thinks you’re bothered by it, he’s an idiot for believing so. 

You take a step back to analyse the coat. The golden threads are flawlessly detailed, spiraling in patterns of different flowers and vines around the collar, gradually getting larger as they twine at the base of the neck. They meet the polished rhinestone buttons a little lower. You almost smile. You’d sewn each thread and each button in yourself the first time. It hardly looks the same now.

Bright red is an eyesore if you look at it longer than five minutes, you realize. The frown that’s been itching to show up finally does. Suddenly, you’re glad Jaehyun is modelling this piece. You shake your head and look back at his face, from his deep-set brown eyes to his full, tinted lips before pausing. The little Swarovski pearls line strands of his hair in a starry display, perfect in every angle of it. It’s easy to appreciate the human beauty when you see his face, and even if you claim your vehement dislike for him, you’re not a liar nor an idiot. 

How infuriating it is, to let things be. Bad blood can only dry to an ugly, unusable brown.

You narrow your eyes at the thinning layer of glitter on his peach-blushed cheeks. He doesn’t exactly need much more of it but the unevenness bothers you.

“Your makeup needs retouching,” you say, frowning. “Did you touch your face? I thought you were a more...professional model than this, Jaehyun.”

“You walked in,” he replies, casually. “I was distracted.”

You feel your cheeks colour. “That’s- that’s not a reason.”

He smiles politely. “I suppose I’ll leave you then. You must have other work to do.”

You hold back a biting remark. His playfulness doesn’t sit well with you; he’s polite just enough to annoy you and straightforward just enough to make you want to throw something at him. He could’ve directly told you to fuck off maybe—but oh no, it’s Jung Yoonoh, seamless and radiant, with only the sweetest collection of words on his tongue. You think of the first time you met, something warm in the corner of your heart. You’d mistaken it, of course. 

He didn’t care for you, or any of the people trailing after him and his silver flute, or the rest of the shallow carcass of a world so undeniably obsessed with him. It didn’t hit you till he’d left you hanging, mangled memories of something close to hurt. You’re glad you didn’t kiss him. You wouldn’t be able to get over the embarrassment, the blow to your pride had it escalated any further.

And of course, the one thing he did to make you absolutely certain of his distaste—was simply choose another designer’s work over yours when given a choice. It seems silly, unprofessional even, but the lack of response to your Fall/Winter ready-to-wear collection had been embarrassingly low, someone else’s designs sold out at an equally awful rate. You—your insecurities—wanted to blame your own failings—maybe it was the lining of the coats, or the colours maybe— the fabric? Perhaps, you hadn’t focused on comfort all too well. But it was clear, a word from Jung Yoonoh could change the minds of a fashion-forward youth as easily as his face and physique scored contracts with the biggest brands and labels. And it was clear he didn’t like you very much.

You walk over to the other models, eyes scanning down to the T. You glance over one of Joohyun’s designs, a modern men’s hanbok. The blood red paired with yellow is certainly easing on the eyes, though the shades vary from top to bottom, like a sunset. The dark grey chunky shoes fitted under dark tights complete the entire future oriental look you suppose she was going for. She’s only showcasing two of her designs this year and they’re just before the centrepiece. You shake your head, clutching the fabric of your jacket sleeve. You hate seeing other designs before a showcase, even if they’re a friend’s. 

You turn your head to make eye contact with Jaehyun across the room. It takes a few seconds but you snap your head in another direction to break the spell. 

How strange. You haven’t had nearly enough coffee to feel jittery under his gaze.

You’re forced to take a breather away from this jungle of liveliness. 

The amount of people outside the venue gives you yet another headache. Excited college students and fashion vloggers stand outside expectantly, and you give a short bow and polite ‘hello’ to anyone who approaches. You desperately want to be left alone. Even if it’s for a few seconds.

You walk quickly, your feet soundless against the floor. Your mask performs considerably (and surprisingly) well in hiding you. You consider visiting the Design Market to enjoy a seat alone and charge your phone before it’s show time.

Open spaces. You need open spaces. Suddenly, the DDP seems to be suffocating you despite its tremendous size.

“Hey!” You’re greeted with a sudden force to your right side, an arm wrapping around you. You look up to see Johnny, a wide grin on his face and you let yourself mirror it, shaking your head.

“Big day,” he says. “Want me to take some pictures? I’ve got some time between shows—lovely outfit, as usual.”

It’s strange how Johnny’s the photographer and not the model—you’ve heard he receives a lot of requests to get on the other side of the camera though he always refuses. He doesn’t visit Seoul as often, but he has much to do in uplifting the mood with his strangely effective sense of humour. The coffee-coloured shirt he’s wearing goes well with the plaid grey coat, reminiscent of Fendi’s Spring collection, and sometimes you wonder whether a job as a fashion photographer ever had much to do with his style. Johnny has always been effortlessly impressive. 

You politely decline, your mind still focused on the smooth running of things. Nothing’s ever on time when it comes to Fashion Weeks—yes, it’s called fashionably late but it just makes you annoyed. You consider ducking back to your venue, adding some final final touches and any more last-minute altercations. Years have passed and you’re still not used to it, fingers itching to do something about everything. You’re grateful the company gives you your creative space but it only makes you wonder just how far the limits are. 

Johnny accompanies you to the charging station till he’s distracted by some of the children in the latest Fendi kidswear and you make a mental note to never bring your kids to Fashion Week, if you ever choose to have them.

You breathe in and out for a few moments, feeling lightheaded before the sense of reality touches on you. People walk in and out of the stores lining the pathways, a soft buzz of conversation in the air as your eyes follow their movement. You wonder if you’ll have your own stores opened in plazas like this—here, in Seoul, and on brightly lit streets of the world outside. After all, colourful dreams are the hardest to get rid of. You sit quietly till you get a text from Doyoung asking you to get your ass over there quickly with several exclamation marks. You smile to yourself. Joohyun might have had a sour effect on him.

You arrive back at the venue, trying to tear your eyes away from anything that might want to make you fix it. You avoid Jaehyun’s eyes even more so, like you’ll jinx something right before it’s showtime. 

The buzzing reaches a peak before everything is drowned out.

The show finally starts. And it’s over. Twenty-two minutes, this time.

That’s the way it goes. You hold your breath till you’re sure it’s safe to let go, blind to everything that goes on in between. Sometimes it’s underwhelming, sometimes you can’t give a fuck when you love doing this anyway.

You breathe a sigh of joy when everyone gathers backstage, Johnny making all the models pose together for one giant group photo. It’s like a ritual for him, always finding time for a backstage picture with the models goofing off.

Jaehyun looks at you instead of the camera, a nervous shiver running through you. His gaze is not something of inconsequence, eyes piercing into you with words hanging in the air that you don’t care enough about. You think he sends you a smile, cockier than you’d like. Despite your efforts, you have to look away.

Now, what should your dear Fall collection look like? You exit by yourself, relief humming through your veins when you think of getting back to your apartment, papers to be sketched on in your hands, soft fabric to be sewn on your table. Maybe they’ll display your works in the front rows of the stores, maybe you’ll even have displays outside of Seoul. You’re not a student anymore and your job has taken you enough places. 

Even so, Paris and Milan sneak into your dreams often. You used to dream of them so much that it was hard to consider them reality—finding yourself in those streets, in between all those beautiful picture-book monuments.

You prefer Seoul, you decide after conscious thinking. You don’t have to worry about the world outside. 

Afterparties are not your thing. 

You somehow still find yourself in them, hoping to catch a drunk video of Doyoung for blackmail or make eye contact with an attractive stranger only to stop at exchanging numbers because you never find the time. 

It’s a social event. You’re supposed to be doing social things. It’s exhausting.

The last person you expect to bump into is Jaehyun, drinks in hand as he looks down at you with a greeting of surprise on his tongue. He’s wearing a simple dark Oxford button-down, two buttons at his chest undone, and tucked neatly into his pants. His hair looks untouched since afternoon, parted in messy waves, minus the pearls. The music changes to something with slower beats as you stare at each other for a few moments.

“What are you doing here?” You raise an eyebrow. There are other afterparties he could be attending. Big ones.

Jaehyun tilts his head, cracking his neck before smiling. “Charming, as always. I’m here because I want to be here, obviously. So does everyone, I’m sure.” 

“Fucking narcissist,” you mutter to yourself. You think Jaehyun might have heard you because you get a dirty look thrown your way, masked with the signature apathy across his relaxed lips.

“That’s a little rich from you,” he mumbles.

The muscle by his mouth twitches but he doesn’t say anything more. This is probably the most emotion he shows, you think. Wouldn’t his lovestruck magazines relish seeing him riled up like this? They’d still find a way to fall in love with him.

You could have, too.

No way. You tell yourself that’s ridiculous. 

You’re aware he’s booked for at least three other shows this week. It’s a miracle he agreed to yours, considering your mutual distaste for each other. You suppose it had more to do with his agency than himself but it wasn’t like you were the keener one. Jung Yoonoh is the face professionals look for and your company loves the publicity, although you keep telling yourself your designs would still shine without him. 

Jaehyun excuses himself before you can get on with any unpleasant conversation you might have. At least you have something in common—that is, trying to avoid each other as much as possible.

A few minutes (and uncomfortably snaking through swarms of bodies) later, you find Doyoung, unfortunately sober and intending to remain so, people congratulating him with claps on the back for securing the position of PR Head. You think it was supposed to be a secret, but someone higher in the ladder must have spilled early. Joohyun never attends these, and honestly, good for her. 

Afterparties are not your thing.

You shouldn’t have taken those shots but you’re on the dance floor now anyway—what more could happen? It’s easier when you’re not paranoid about all the eyes on you, dancing against a stranger with a lion tattooed against his neck. Maybe you’ll go home with him, maybe you’ll leave at the first signs of attraction. Romance isn’t quite on your to-do list, but an occasional intoxication with the skin works just fine. You could live like this for a few moments.

Your back runs into someone else’s rather forcefully and you turn around, apology bubbled up to your tongue already, mixing with the alcohol.

“Oh look.” You roll your eyes. “It’s the prince of high fashion. What can I get you today, sire?”

Jaehyun drives his tongue over his lips, quite definitely over your antics. Soft breaths leave his mouth in a rhythm irrelevant to this box of laughter and blaring music called a party. You love how he never knows how to respond—what new words will he choose to keep false dignity? If you think about it, he’s the embodiment of why you always thought everything was so out of your reach—big names, exclusive parties, not for kids like you. They were never for fashion students too honest to know their own worth.

“Jealousy isn’t a good colour on you,” he says, just loud enough for you to hear.

You scoff, a pang of annoyance sizzling through you. “Jealous? Of who? You?”

You sneer at the last part, Jaehyun’s frown deepening. Some days you just like to think you’ve won. A few moments pass between you two, the sound of pop music filling in the gaps. 

Jaehyun presses closer to you, your chests almost touching as your breath hitches in your throat.

“Do you know what makes success?” he says, head dipping lower to look you in the eye. The smell of alcohol disturbs you for a second before your heartbeat gets loud enough to drown it. You try to not focus on how his mouth is so near yours—and perhaps if you were drunk enough, you might commit a mistake against the very core of your being, something you’d been dangerously close to once.

You stay quiet, the pulsing in your ears too loud in the shallow distance between the two of you. You swear it’s always the two of you pressed up like this once you’re drunk enough, the dislike growing stronger and stronger with every breath exchanged. You’ve intertwined each other into a strange garden of contempt, easy to forget when you're facing him. Jung Yoonoh has the prettiest face in the industry, and the only one you can’t bear seeing. 

“It’s confidence,” he answers, as slow and steady as ever. “And there’s a thin line between confidence and arrogance I intend to keep. I’m not so sure about you.”

The rest of the night passes without conflict and you retire early, Jaehyun’s breath still hot against your face. Only when you collapse on your bed do you get an urge to shout, yell, anything that doesn’t make you call him up and scream at him. You have your precious dignity too, something he seems to look past. The effect he had on your breathing, the crawling over your skin—God, you hate him. You’re too stubborn to not continue doing it.

“What’s this?” you ask, your eyes darting in between the director of design and Lee Taeyong.

To say you were surprised to see him would be an understatement. You note the simple dark rimmed glasses in contrast with his light dyed hair, the mellow blue of his cashmere sweater sporting his own label’s logo—Lee Taeyong is a household name. You feel yourself shrink the tiniest bit.

This industry’s all about names, you think miserably. You meet people and you remember the ones who can get you ahead. It’s tiring.

Taeyong started his career even earlier than you did, and before he had changed his major to fashion. He’s a little older than you, though he doesn’t look it and he had begun with working exclusively on jackets. Several rejected designs later, he had popped up as one of the designers to look out for in Seoul Fashion Week. Now he has his own global label slowly turning brand, several worldwide stores and everything dreamers in the same place as you look up to. You think you’re fine here, you tell yourself despite that.

The director smiles at you, her hand gesturing rapidly at you to come forward.

“You’re going to be so happy,” she says, signalling Taeyong to continue.

“Uh, hi,” he greets.

A little awkward for a world-class designer, you think.

“I’m Lee Taeyong. You might have heard of me—”

“I know who you are,” you interrupt, ignoring the disapproving look of the director.

“Oh, that’s good!” He smiles. “I’ve seen your work—I’ve been following your work for a few years now…and, well, I’d love for you to work under my label—in a collaboration of sorts. You’ll have full creative freedom, of course! I’m just there more or less for supervision, really…”

You think you feel your heart stop for a few moments, Taeyong’s sudden stream of information fading out. The pinnacle of your career, you believe, had been Paris Fashion Week four years ago and you’d been dreaming of it ever since. This is a business contract, you’re sure, and you don’t know if you have a real choice but maybe you could take that step forward you’ve always wanted to.

“Isn’t that great, (name)?” The director interjects. “You get to work under the Lee Taeyong label. And…surprise! You’ll have your work presented at New York Fashion Week in September. They’ll hit the stores a week later.”

You freeze. 

“New York?” you manage to squeak.

“Yep!” Her voice a notch away from annoying. She’s not the first person you’ve met who sounds so goddamn manufactured. “Pack your bags, darling. You’re flying next weekend.”

You must be looking like a deer caught in the headlights because Taeyong opens his mouth to say something, alarmed. You speak before he does.

“Okay,” you say, more to yourself than them. It should be a good thing. It’s supposed to be a good thing. Even so, you feel the anxiety in your ribcage threatening to overgrow into thorns. 

“I’ll- I’ll do it,” you clarify. Looking from your manager’s bright yet stern face to the hopeful smile on Taeyong, you don’t think you have much of a choice.

New York, huh. How long has it been? You shudder at the memories, your focus a little off for the rest of the day.

Joohyun visits you a day before you leave. She places the box of chocolates on the coffee table, that Doyoung apparently sent for you. 

“You know, I’m really happy you’re getting this chance,” Joohyun says, crouching down beside where you’re splayed, trying to count the travel essentials and everything else on your messy checklist.

“He gets promoted and now he can’t even come visit me, huh?” you say, shifting to grab the box and tear off the clear wrap.

Joohyun laughs. “He’s certainly enjoying his duties. I can’t wait to boss him around again after I leave.”

Your shoulders hunch, a sigh leaving your lips. “Great. You’re leaving. Doyoung’s too busy to annoy. And now I’m a part of this godforsaken project for almost six months.”

Joohyun softens a bit, running her hand through your hair. “I heard you accepted it. All by yourself. You’ll do just fine, don’t worry.”

You feel yourself turn pink, a feeling of warmth you’ve been missing for a week. It’s cozy in your apartment, always the right temperature with a tinge of happy memories. You wish you could find comfort in people as easily as others do. Everything happened so fast, you can barely remember the conversation you had with Lee Taeyong. A few moments pass, Joohyun and you picking out chocolates before you can rummage through your suitcase again.

“I hate New York, Joohyun. Just what else can you throw into the mix to make me hate it even more?”

She freezes for a fraction of a moment, pressing her lips together before clearing her throat. “Oh. Uh. I probably shouldn’t tell you what I was about to tell you then.”

You turn your head to her, eyes narrowing. “What?”

She shrugs, eyes not meeting yours. “You know. New York. Fashion capital of the world. Lots of things to love.”

“What are you not telling me, Joohyun?”

She sighs, defeated. “A certain someone might be on the same flight as you. I was about to give you his number in case you needed help.”

You pause to think, curling your lips. “It’s Jaehyun, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

You groan, dropping your head back and yelping when it hits the coffee table. Joohyun moves to rub your head and ease the pain as you let out a stream of complaints.

“You really thought I’d call him for help?” you yell. “Him? Of all people?”

“I think you’d rather have a known face there. Besides, he’s a good kid,” she reasons, looking you in the eye. “And stop yelling.”

You quieten a bit at her glare, gulping. She adds the number to your contacts, saving it with a professional ‘Jung Yoonoh’ before she helps you clean up, advising you on how to manage your finances abroad. You know she’s trying to ease you, but how could she—after dropping this awful news on you like it shouldn’t matter at all? She doesn’t even know what happened—almost happened in Paris, or the fact that your honeyed feelings had turned bitter so easily. She’s worked with him before, you know this, when he was a much younger model and she trusts him more than you ever could. 

But maybe, just maybe she can’t see what you see—after all, she’s also part of the elite, crème de la crème of this industry, more so in this country. It’s frightening, and so vague what goes on up there, at the top of the chain; and whatever you have—it might never be enough. 

You’re you. Sometimes, that isn’t enough.

You jump at the water rushing from the shower, too cold for skin and scramble to twist the knob the other way. This time, the water’s too hot and you yelp, shutting it off altogether.

You press your hand against the shower glass, breathing heavy. You’re trying—you’ve been desperately trying ever since you landed a week ago. Change is not something you can take lightly. You miss the dim lights of your apartment in Seoul that Joohyun always warned would get you some brand new prescription glasses. You miss walking down the streets to your favourite convenience store at three in the morning to get honey butter chips. You miss picking fights with Doyoung over which detail to scrutinise during your project discussions. This project seems to have torn apart several things that belonged to you.

You can’t seem to get your head into it either—even spacing out during the meeting you had with Lee Taeyong among several other things. You can’t remember a single design detail he’d specified or what the theme was even supposed to be—a bunch of bright foggy lights replacing whatever fuzz was growing in your head. A twenty-something-year-old shouldn’t be letting homesickness affect them like this. 

You finish the rest of your shower with a heavy heart and a clouded head. 

Taeyong booking a luxury suite for you was a bit…much. Not that you’re complaining, but it gives more fuel to the profound sense of emptiness you keep drawing. There’s no intimacy to this place, no love. It’s a little hard to create things without love, and comfort.

Still, you grit your teeth and get dressed into something more comfortable for the night. If not today, then tomorrow. Something will have to give, even if it costs you—whatever the hell your parents keep telling you when you’re going through problems. What if you don’t want to be cost things? Compromise isn’t as delicate as it sounds. You try to comfort yourself, rocking yourself on the much too large couch, hugging a pillow close and trying to think of things that don’t immediately make you want to throw up.

The memories of your first visit are a little less than pleasant. You think you cried after the entire ordeal because you thought you did a bad job of talking, socializing, the most ordinary things. There are some people who are good at wearing masks—good at making copper look like gold, good at shining under dim lights, and good at using words that don’t have much meaning to their existence other than being pretty. 

You were not one of them. 

The intense need for everything to be perfect was still there, even when you couldn’t possibly have achieved it. You wanted to make things and show them to the world—what was so wrong with that? Why did being there make you feel like you could never even touch your dreams? You were so out of place, feeling completely out of touch with yourself. There were people from the top there, established and famous. It felt out of your grasp. You felt fake.

The city lights twinkle with life but there’s no sound, the windows shut tight. The ambience of the room is kept to a caramel minimum—the best you can do to honour your sweet little home back in Seoul.

The hatred for everything pretentious was born with your first step into this place, into the game that the big boys play. It showed in your designs, your choice of fabric, your distaste for certain people. You wanted reality—you wanted a taste of life in your everyday clothes. You wanted that flavour you feel on your tongue in a room full of strangers or the one on a quiet night by yourself at your apartment rooftop. You didn’t want dignified fur coat ensembles, you wanted the naive chaos you feel every day and you wanted to make it look good. It’s driving you insane just how much you feel like you’re losing now.

You take out your phone after what seems a few minutes of contemplation. 

Jung Yoonoh. Your finger hovers over the call button. What would he say if his night is interrupted by your voice?

You’d met at the airport after landing, though you were only two seats away in the plane. You’d made no error in acknowledging his presence, browsing through the inflight magazine half-heartedly. Truth be told, sometimes you couldn’t really seem to get over him. Sometimes the thought of him made you so pissed, you had no idea what to think of it. 

“Welcome to New York,” he had said shortly after you’d exited, a giant crowd of people greeting out-goers, holding up placards with names of people, in numbers you’re unaccustomed to. Or, used to be accustomed to.

You hadn’t talked since—and really, you weren’t expecting to.

You press your home button, any lingering thoughts of him vanishing at the force with which you tell yourself it’s not worth it. How is Jung Yoonoh better than anyone else you know here? He might have been living in New York for quite a few years now, and he’s probably the only one you’d feel comfortable enough to swear at—that doesn’t mean you’d actually ask for help. That doesn’t mean he’d actually help. Joohyun must have had her hopes far too high to have convinced you for even a moment.

The couch feels colder all of a sudden, and you turn down the air conditioner. This place will never adjust to you, and your stubborn little self won’t either.

You think of Jaehyun from the afterparty, loose shirt and knowing eyes, and you wonder if he feels just the same frustrated agony, if not more. You think of his parted lips and breathing words close enough to be provocative, discomfort growing at the base of your stomach. Who does he think he is? He might have the airs and dignity of someone way up in the hierarchy of society but you know what people can be like. You know envy, you know malice, and you know lies. He has to fit in there somewhere—and perhaps you would have hated him less if he did.

Even if you’d scoffed at the idea of jealousy, that might very well be the closest to what you feel, what you keep hidden in the darkest corners of your locked chest. When you first met at that star-spangled dinner, you’d felt what it’s like to watch a fireworks show or a big musical opening; but the fireworks are being blocked by skyscrapers and you’re only the helping staff at the theatre, watching from a balcony at the very back. Jaehyun was impressive with barely any words. It annoyed you so much and somehow, the only solution you arrived at was the tremendous need to understand him, pick him apart and see what made him.

No. That’s wrong. You were annoyed because you still wanted to kiss him after he’d pushed you away, his dislike steaming clear. It strikes you as gently as lightning that the only reason someone would have to hate Jaehyun is being attracted so violently to him. God, you hate making a fool out of yourself.

You pass the night in quiet contemplation, promising yourself a better tomorrow. After all, no one else is going to do it. 

You walk with your chin up as if you don’t feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. You picked out your black Harrington jacket to look at least a little more professional, but you might have miscalculated the size and the material in the equation because you look completely and utterly ridiculous in it. No one would look at you and think you even work in fashion, much less be competent in that line. 

(To be fair, you wear the same beige sweater and black corduroy pants to work and if your coworkers choose to judge you, you wouldn’t blame them.) 

It’s only been a month and somehow, it translates to forever to you. You think you’re adjusting better now, and you pat yourself on the back for it. It’s not raining today at the mercy of the skies, a tidal wave of sunlight splashing through the buildings every time you take a turn. The city doesn’t scare you all that much anymore. It’s a good day, for once.  

You lean your head against the car window, eyes trailing up and down the reflective blue of each skyscraper. You can barely see any clouds, and the sky’s endlessly the same, comforting blue. Just like back home, you think for a moment. Your eyes move back to the sidewalk, people passing by—mothers with their babies in strollers, kids clutching the strap of their school bags as they run, men and women in all levels of professional clothing. No one stops in this city. Except the fucking traffic apparently.

You sigh, glancing at your watch. Only moments ago, you were moving and yet again, you’ve stopped. The cycle keeps repeating and you’re trying to keep patience focusing on things around you that you can appreciate. 

Maybe you jinxed it when you said it was a good day.

You reach Taeyong’s studio just in time (not that you’d get yelled at or anything, he’s too nice of a guy). Your eyes fixate on the numbers that light up on the elevator one by one till it finally reaches the first floor.

You walk right into someone’s chest, an apology tumbling out of your lips as you bow out of habit. 

“(name)?”

You look up to find Jaehyun in the elevator of Taeyong’s building, a casual white shirt clinging to his frame that’s tucked into his jeans to look somewhat formal. A pink overshirt hangs at his forearm and from the windswept styling of hair and his perfected dark locks, you’ll assume he’s here for a shoot—even without it, he looks like something from a teen magazine, someone people would see and instantly daydream of. Best known for high fashion, Jung Yoonoh is still a spectacle in casualwear. 

“I can’t believe I have to see your face here too,” you mutter, getting into the elevator. You’ve had your share of moments with him.

“Good to see you too,” he says, bemused. 

You make a sound of acknowledgment, taking out your phone to turn the damn notifications off so you don’t feel it vibrate in your pocket every few minutes. You feel eyes on you for a moment and snap your head to the side.

Jaehyun has his eyes focused on the door, quiet breathing fresh against his lips and you hesitate before concluding you might have been mistaken in your perception. 

“You’re here for a shoot?” you ask, curious about his relationship with Taeyong. 

“What else can I be here for?” He says nonchalantly. 

“Sarcastic. Very nice.”  

“It’s a little weird, you trying to make conversation with me. You’re usually raving about me too much to actually talk to me.” He smiles, the dimples provoking and eyes the familiar beguiling brown. 

“I’m not trying to make conversation,” you hiss, crossing your arms. “I’m sorry, I forgot you’re only a person in front of cameras.”

Jaehyun takes a sharp breath before turning to you, a not-so-happy look on his face despite the calmness over his features. You’ve seen it enough times.

“How long are you going to keep up the pretentious this and pretentious that before you face it, really?” He looks at you with tight lips, poisonous implications in his question. “Why you love to get up in my case all the time?”

The words take time to settle in. You shake your head when you realize, a sardonic laugh leaving your lips. Of course he’d think that.

“Oh my god,” you scoff. “You’re so full of yourself. You think I’m interested in you? Don’t let what happened years ago get to your head.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Oh, what did you mean then? Pray tell.”

“First of all, stop cutting me off,” he says, taking a step towards you. A certain feeling of uneasiness runs through you when you detect annoyance in his quiet statement.

“Secondly,” he says, taking a another step forward just as your back hits the wall of the elevator, “Stop treating me like I’m the bane of your existence. I have nothing to do with you.”

He’s right, of course, but the words sting where they hit. Asshole, you think. He has no business telling you what to do and what not to do. But in this moment, you can’t fish for the correct words—you don’t have the strength to when you’re so close to each other like this, the scent of his cologne syrupy and sickening. His tall stature is intimidating, with his straight shoulders and proud jawline.

The elevator dings at the seventh floor, Jaehyun stepping away from you without a glance or care, striding out just as smoothly as on a runway.

You take a moment to breathe, unsaid words burning holes into your tongue. You wish you could’ve said something better, anything that didn’t make you feel so pathetic. Maybe you should’ve told him to stick his words up his ass, sounding vulgar being the least of your worries. You wait patiently to reach the last floor, each ding souring your mood little by little. 

You are so glad you didn’t call him that night. To think he’d ever help you knowing it’s mutual, the whole hating each other’s guts. You just can’t believe the audacity of him—to accuse you of, what, romantic feelings? In an industry where you can’t tell apart gold from copper? Where all the people warming up to you are fair weather friends and competitors? He must have let all that attention get to his head. Runway faces aren’t as easy to fall in love with as he thinks.

“(name)! Come quick!”

Taeyong’s voice urges as soon as you enter and you settle your bag down, rushing to him. His smile drops when he sees your seething figure place your bag on the desk with a loud thud. You turn to him, without a hint of sweetened formality and ask him the day’s schedule.

Taeyong gulps before responding, undoubtedly afraid of your lips, a twitch away from a scowl, but he explains nicely nonetheless.

“Can you do a rerun of these designs for me?” he says, arranging the papers on the desk. That’s how he says these need improvement. No wonder the interns love him.

Taeyong’s in his usual attire, still too chic for you but strangely comfortable to look at. You nod, immediately scrutinising them, your (almost pointless) years of training trying to give you hints as to where you went wrong. You’re not really expecting to find big flaws or anything—just details you can enhance. You’ve learned enough about Taeyong in a month and it’s that his sense of style encompasses comfort, even in the most abstract of concepts. You respect him for that. It doesn’t change the fact that you think it’s a little overdone maybe.

Taeyong laughs, breaking you out of your daze. You raise an eyebrow.

“Is- Is something wrong?” You look at him, perplexed.

“It’s just that- It’s just you remind me a lot of the fashion students.” He smiles at you.

Your shoulders droop. Amateur. New. Unprofessional.

“Oh.”

Taeyong rephrases himself quickly, waving his hands about. “I don’t mean it as a bad thing! It just means you still…love doing it.”

It sticks with you longer than you’d expect, as you work throughout the day. You think Taeyong is too nice to criticize you properly but he eventually gets the point across—stick to the theme, written in Taeyong’s dainty handwriting and pinned to the softboard. 

Secrets. 

What an atrocious concept. Firstly, it makes no sense apart from sounding like a fucking lingerie collection. Secondly, when you went over Taeyong’s designs with the layers and patches, you supposed he wanted to focus on the inside of things because everything he’d drawn was inside out. Thirdly, when you heard him explain it, you were a little taken aback to hear it was going to be all about you, us. The designers, the models, the photographers, the magazine editors—there are millions and millions of people working to make sketches come to life, for a few items of clothing in someone’s closet. It feels nice to hear that from him. You promise you’re going to perfect it. 

And perfection is your dear old friend. 

It’s what you always strive for, but end up with something else that’s a little less beautiful. You take slow breaths, removing and adding details (after all, art is in the details). But perfection can easily grow tiresome. It makes you increasingly frustrated and you don’t think you have the heart to tell Taeyong everything in his studio stresses you out.

“So, you’re working with Jaehyun?” you ask, trying to look less antsy.

Taeyong blanks out for a moment before responding. “Yes. Why? Is he- Is he making you uncomfortable?”

Uncomfortable wouldn’t even begin to explain what he makes you feel. 

“No,” you deny. “Just curious.”

Taeyong smiles. “We usually work on summer shoots together. It’s like tradition.”

“That’s…nice,” you say, trying to reciprocate his smile.

“Oh, but we’re having terrible weather so the shoots keep going longer than planned. That’s why I’m having to compromise planning time with you. Sorry about that.”

You try to keep your posture despite the mild annoyance brewing at the back of your head. Great. Now you have to see Jaehyun’s unbelievably annoying face every time you walk in. Maybe if you plead enough, you’d get permission to leave early and not want to throw some insults at him. 

You decide to walk, despite Taeyong insisting his driver help you get home. He doesn’t act like it but he’s a busy man, with side projects and interviews coming up so often you lose count. It’s no wonder he had to, and you hate using this word, hire someone for the label’s next venture. You think articles like Lee Taeyong loses touch and hires designers instead of doing his job would make him upset but he seems to genuinely not let it bother him. It’s about ideas to him. His label, almost large enough to be a brand, is for ideas; what a pretty thing to base your business around. While you thought you were a big shot back in South Korea, you’re almost nothing more than Lee Taeyong’s co-designer—assistant here.

You feel drops of what you felt years ago trickling down your throat. Overshadowed. Powerless. Imposter. Something about New York makes you want to pull all your hair out. You wish you hadn’t been here in the first place, maybe then this would seem more of a fun trip than memories weighing you down. But then if you hadn’t been here, you might not have even started.

You hug yourself at the sudden downpour, clouds kind enough for it to be nothing more than showers but you’re soaked anyway. Kind, but still a little cruel. Running under the eaves of a store, you curse yourself for not bringing an umbrella the only day you needed it. You stand there for a while, just breathing.

Real life is never like movies, is it? Cameras lie. Pretty faces lie. Sometimes you end up stuck in New York rains without an umbrella or a friend to call or a lover to protect you. You end up getting an Uber, taking awfully long to arrive due to the traffic the rain had ensued and try your best to ignore the disgruntled driver mumbling about you wetting his seats.

You still don’t know how the goddamn shower works. 

You manage to complete without either scorching your skin off or freezing it to Greenland and back—a feat much more successful than whatever you had going on for today. You slip into the absurdly soft mattress, pillows and covers swallowing you into a state of sleep.

You start the day almost pouring coffee onto Jaehyun’s spotless white shirt. And you might have were it not for immense self-restraint, and the fact that Taeyong’s eyes were trained on the two of you.

“So…are you two…a thing or something?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“No,” Jaehyun responds calmly while you sputter it out.

Taeyong apologizes, a laugh following. “You seem to have worked together before. Jaehyun, you never told me that.”

“I…I thought you knew,” he answers, leaning back against the tabletop.

“Ah, well,” Taeyong shrugs. “Thanks for helping me out with this, (name). Maybe- maybe we can draw some inspiration for the collection from outdoors.”

“Of course,” you say as you smile wide, trying hard not to break the coffee mug in your hand.

If you’re being honest, you had a gut feeling you’d be asked to help with Taeyong’s (apparently) infamous summer shoot. He walks into his studio every morning with hair in a disarray, talking to more people than he might enjoy and the entirety of New York weather against him. There’s only so much time a man can have and under pressure, he’s going to have to choose. It’s easy to feel sorry for someone like him.

This should be the stylist’s job. Jaehyun stands with his chin up as you adjust the fitting, smoothing out creases and making sure the cerulean shirt is pinned right, satin feeling cool and nice under your fingers. Sleeveless is back in trend this summer, and so are low-cuts.

“Careful there,” he says when you hand brushes a little lower, just below the full-grain leather belt.

You hope your face isn’t steaming from the rush of heat but you manage to limit your emotions to a sound of discomfort, remembering the horrendous accusation he’d thrown at you. “I don’t care about your dick, twit.”

Jaehyun laughs, bending a little to whisper. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“You look like you’re having a wonderful time making me uncomfortable.”

“You’re just so easy to work up.”

His dimples are getting on your nerves. You reach up to button his collar, perhaps a little too harsh because he chokes, an uncharacteristic sound leaving his mouth as he winces. You suppress a smile, glad you managed to do something about the look on his face.

The sunlight over this park feels like Christmas come early, with the way Taeyong is flitting from model to model and stylist to stylist with the intensity of a five year old after an ice-cream truck. 

“Is he- Is he usually like this?” you ask, eyes on the makeup artist getting directions from Taeyong.

“I just assumed all of you are this way,” Jaehyun, responds looking at the same sight.

You roll your eyes. “We’re not all crazy.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a little bit,” you correct yourself, watching Taeyong almost trip over someone’s bag in order to greet the magazine’s style director. 

Jaehyun chuckles, eyes meeting yours for a moment before the two of you go about your own business.

You like magazine shoots for the most part. You never find a glass of water anywhere, but some intern or the other will definitely be there to fetch you Starbucks. There’s at least three people fussing over each model and at least two exasperated photographers trying very hard to snap clean shots. The stylist and designer look as though they might explode any minute, although the relief on their faces after it’s all over is something worth looking at. The skies are so bright and blue, you think, for a cosmopolis. The trees and shrubs lining the park are in a state of tranquility compared to the chaos it encircles.  

Magazines might not be as important in an age of social media advertisement, almost part of nostalgia now—but maybe some of you are not yet willing to deny kids the thrill of reading a magazine under their blankets in the middle of the night. It often gave hope to little boys playing dress up and little girls sewing their own clothes. 

You’d forgotten just how exhausting shooting with magazines is. The models must be having it worse but their masks don’t come off easy. If you had ever underestimated their job difficulty, it comes back to throttle you at full speed every time you’re at a shoot.

 Looking good in front of a camera is pretty damn hard. 

They don’t even get to keep the clothes, unless some asshole of a designer decides to pay them in apparel instead of actual money. Most models leave New York in debt. Men are paid even less than women. You’re surprised Jaehyun is as celebrated as he is—or the fact that he was clever enough of a businessman in launching his own high fashion-themed restaurant. You’ve heard he barely visits it, like a careless afterthought. But you’re not one to get carried away by sketchy articles on the internet. All you’ve needed are more reasons to hate him.

You sip the iced coffee, its effect pretty much worn out during humid afternoons. It’s time for a break, but no one’s willing to break momentum. You find yourself feeling a little awkward, as nothing more than a guest with creative advice, and so you sit under the comforting cool of the giant green umbrella at one of the tables. You could sink into your chair were it not so damn uncomfortable.

Jaehyun takes a seat right beside you to your surprise, offering you a box of diced mango before you fervently decline. You still think he’s an asshole. It doesn’t make any sense—why accuse you of unsaid affections and then flirt with you like he never said it? It’s not like you’re even friends, how ridiculous. There are quite a few jerks you’ve met in your life, but Jung Yoonoh really takes the cake.

“What?” you snap when his gaze gets on your nerves.

“I didn’t say anything.” He raises his hands defensively, eyes still on yours. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I enjoy the air conditioned suite Taeyong booked me more than this, yes.” You sigh, leaning back. “I don’t really have anything to do.” 

“I’m assuming he booked you the luxury suite on the fifteenth floor,” he says, chuckling.

You furrow your eyebrows. It’s not impossible that Jaehyun knows Taeyong’s favorite suite to book for guests.

“The view’s pretty nice from there, right? Oh, and you must be enjoying the silence.”

“I actually like the outside sounds,” you defend. “It’s calming.” 

“Not when you’re on the third floor,” he says, shoving a piece of mango into his mouth with a fork. “All you hear is middle aged men screaming.”

You rest your elbow on the table, placing your chin against your palm. The shade is separated from sunlight by a thin line against his chest, pale blue satin glimmering where the sun meets it. Jaehyun’s eyes shine a darker hue of honey under the shade, moving to the box in his hands occasionally before trailing back to the background noise again. Taeyong really does love pretty fits, but this might just be one of the most gorgeous pieces you’ve seen this summer (and you’ve already been through all the ready-to-wear lookbooks you possibly could). A thought passes you in a breeze, that maybe it's the model making it seem that way.

“You’re talkative today,” you note quietly, the sun harsher on your cheeks than before.

Jaehyun shrugs, hurrying to finish all the pieces. He suddenly pulls a face, one you don’t see very often in high fashion websites and Instagram pages. It’s almost cute. 

“Sour.” 

You find yourself laughing, a gentle influx of peace filling the inside your chest. You quickly recover, looking back up to see Jaehyun simply staring at you, breathing. He looks caught off-guard, no camera to warn him. You straighten, your cheeks flushing with heat.

“Is- Is something wrong?”

He immediately shakes his head, more to himself than you. There’s a pause before the two of you are happily distracted. The style director appears to be gesturing at him from the other side and Jaehyun responds with a curt wave.

“You’re doing two different concepts today?”

“Three, actually.”

You raise your eyebrows. Well, they’re definitely taking advantage of the good weather. They could just photoshop it, in your opinion, but authenticity is everything when it comes to magazines nowadays. 

“Well, don’t let me hold you back,” you say, your tone dismissive. “Go get changed into whatever pretty shirt Taeyong has up next in his collection.”

“The next shoot doesn’t have a shirt,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirked upward.

You almost choke on your coffee, blaming the heat for your weak state of mind. You’re just having one of those strange days—just that, nothing else.

You finish the rest of the coffee, cup resting in your hand till you find the energy to get up and find a trash can.  

Jaehyun was right. This time the shoot’s a little too wet and a little too much skin for you to enjoy. The only thing added to Jaehyun above the waist are a dainty red scarf knotted over his neck and a small, flat hoop earring on his left ear. The velvet fingerless gloves, although you’re not very fond of them, complete a rather rugged yet soft look. You didn’t expect Taeyong to come up with something like that. 

Jaehyun’s well-developed physique, while you’ve seen it in other shoots and online articles, is completely different when you’re a few feet away from it. The dark blue cargo pants, silken, are a signature style of Taeyong but the details don’t distract you easily enough. Funny, this is the first time you’re feeling somewhat flustered in a place full of half-naked models. 

You suddenly think of reds and oranges, lilac shrubs and a hint of Burberry men’s perfume. In a way, it reminds you of the strums of the guitar your roommate used to play while you stayed up late, coming up with concepts. Cherishing, soothing—and special, just enough. The corner of your lips twitch and you take out your pocket sketchbook. It’s never too late to add a design to the collection, right? After all, you have secrets too. Maybe Taeyong was right about the outdoors for inspiration. 

Something sets into motion, subtle but sharp.

The next time you walk into Taeyong’s studio, you feel the sun on your face better. Everything seems to be fitting into place, as you smooth through designs at a pace your student self would be jealous of. When Taeyong praises your work, you feel a rush of pride smearing the inside of your chest and you finally feel like everything’s not falling apart. It feels good. It feels like you’re someone.

The days go by in what seems like barely seconds—you know what they say about New York minutes. The mustard cloth draped over your desk to the cottage blue of your curtains, the colours around you change as quickly as the wind. Sometimes they’re abstract—and other times, well, they have more to do with a stranger’s eyes, or the swirls within a coffee cup. It’s the way in which transition occurs around you, that you often forget it moves something within you too. 

You’ve put together some samples with Taeyong, most of them by yourself; the process of making is ever comforting, fabric even more so. You’ve sent the revised designs for production, feeling giddy about whatever is to come like it’s something new. (It shouldn’t be.) 

You fucking hate how different this is. Seoul is nothing compared to New York. The anxiety is nearly ten times worse, the streets are far more attractive when it comes to inspiration and the figure of Jung Yoonoh is no longer as easy to ignore. 

Even after the summer shoot’s over, Jaehyun often comes by to hang out at the studio, dressed in what you would call the simplest fucking thing you’d ever seen and still managing to look just as gorgeous. He blends in well with university students, often wearing the ugliest baseball cap you’ve ever seen, and the look of his face feels much, much worse than ever before. It’s at ease, smug even, but never failing to smile at you when you’re trying to focus. You don’t care how good of friends Taeyong and Jaehyun are—you want to tell him to leave. 

But you just can’t bring yourself to. It’s not that you don’t trust yourself, you certainly do, but whatever New York has done to you, includes making you feel a different way about him. Sometimes you find yourself pressing your legs together harshly, stiffening at any proximity with him and a pool of warmth at the base of your stomach you’d rather not feel.

It’s embarrassing to even think about it—the fact that he makes you feel that way, so hot and bothered like it’s your first time. You blame your lack of going out these few months because after all, anyone could fall in love with runway faces. It doesn’t have to mean it’s him you want. You carry on doing what you’ve been doing for the most part of your career, your best to avoid him. There are more pressing matters, and your head might just implode if you keep on worrying about things (a man, of all) you need not. 

Time passes even faster when all your thoughts revolve around the same thing.

One month. D-30. Whatever the hell you call time before the end of the world.

Your palms sweat a whole lot easier here. It’s a little weird, considering you don’t find much difference in humidity between Seoul and New York. Your heart often catches up in your throat too. Not a great feeling, your heart choking the breath out of you, but you’re used to it. You cope and you learn, that’s what it means to be human.

You pull your hand down before it reaches your teeth. The day ended in a meeting with Taeyong’s production team—everything’s running smoothly so you need not worry, he said. 

Why are those the words that make you worry the most? 

You check the time on your phone. 23:05 and a whole month to go. You better get some sleep for all the meetings you have scheduled tomorrow. You close your eyes and for a while, everything falls quiet.

You dream of New York Fashion Week. People come here to feel included. Everyone wants to be a part of something they don’t understand.

The models walk down the runway in increasingly uncomfortable outfits. You didn’t design any of them. Where are the ones you worked on? You can’t move from your seat, or turn your head from the runway, anything at all. Something’s wrong, everything’s wrong. You don’t belong here. Thunder strikes outside the venue and you wake up with a gasp caught in your throat, and the clock on the bedside table flashing 2:14.

You’ve had enough. You swear you’ve had enough.

You get up out of bed, pacing the giant bedroom, the empty spaces making you feel more and more miserable. The city twinkles with innumerous stars beyond your window, curtains half drawn so they can comfort you whenever you need—but these lights don’t shine for you, or anyone else. They shine for themselves. That’s what it means to be in New York again. 

What time is it in Seoul? Could you call your mother? Joohyun? Everyone must be busy right now—you don’t know what to do. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt so helpless. There’s a reason you’ve been avoiding New York for this long and now it’s come crashing down on you. 

This was a mistake. All of it was a mistake.

You look down at your phone, the light hurting your eyes despite being set to the lowest brightness. You think a little, and then some more. There’s no one else you can call. Even if he’s busy charming all the other employees whenever you see him, even if half the world is in love with him, there’s no one else you can call. This time you don’t stop yourself.

You tap the call button beside the Jung Yoonoh saved neatly. Tapping your foot against the floor nervously, your mind goes blank for a few seconds or so. He answers when you’re just about to hang up, breath hitching in your throat at the sound of his voice.

“Hello? Hello? If this is a reporter—”

“It’s me, Jaehyun.”

The line goes quiet for a moment and your voice overlaps his before he can begin.

“I- I didn’t mean to call so late. Sorry…uh.”

You scrunch up your face at your own voice. This is not getting you anywhere.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, voice lower.

You fall silent, unable to answer without breaking down into tears. You did not call Jung Yoonoh for that. 

“Yeah,” you choke out. “Fine. Completely fine. I just…”

You trail off, trying to get yourself to breathe.

“I’ll send you an address. Be there in an hour.”

You blink back tears, confusion adding to the burning pile of worries inside your head. 

“What?”

“Address. I’ll text you. Be there. One hour.”

“I’m not stupid, Jaehyun,” you snap, strength refilling your voice. “Why?”

“I’m not answering questions, just be there.”

With that, the line goes flat and an embarrassing amount of ‘hello’s get you to realize that he hung up. A notification pops up a minute later and you’re too groggy to decipher it, logging it to Maps instead so you can follow. It’s fifteen minutes away, you realize with a sigh of relief, so you can at least present yourself within the given constraint. 

You can’t grasp what you feel in the moment, the night air and warm streets beckoning you to leave the clamped apartment soaked in fear. You think this is unlike Jaehyun, what he’s doing, but you’re too shaken to care. You need some respite, even if it comes from somewhere you can’t picture.

“You…wanted to meet me at a Korean barbecue restaurant?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn red, as they often do when he doesn’t know how to respond to you.

“I-It’s not that I…Never mind,” he tries to explain, fidgeting with the cloth over his shoulder. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”  

We? You think, eyes scanning his face in confusion. If you want? Where’s the uncaring Jaehyun you’ve known, foreign eyes and impassive lips? He hardly looks the part he’s meant to play—a billboard face with a confident jawline and nothing more behind it. Outside of work—you don’t even know what else to call this—Jaehyun looks hardly intimidating, or abrasive. He seems different, gentle almost, although the dark circles under his eyes might have something to do with it. Maybe he’s too tired to say anything more and that’s it.

But he still came all the way here.

“Aren’t you a little…overdressed?” 

There comes the remark you were hoping to not hear. You just wanted to look nice; you’d hardly call this overboard. The loose, mustard-colored chiffon shirt cinches at the waist, paired with your nicest (only not faded) pair of light blue jeans and shoes that haven’t seen the light of day since you arrived here. You barely ever design clothes for yourself anymore but you thought you looked good in this.

“No,” you defend quickly, feeling your face grow warm. “You’re underdressed.”

You say that, but he clearly looks good in anything he wears. Could you expect any less of  a supermodel? He doesn’t seem to have dressed in as much a hurry as you had. Clad in a plain black T-shirt that’s half tucked into skinny jeans, he’s added his hideous baseball cap and a pair of navy blue shades which looks just as ridiculous as it sounds. You really think he shouldn’t be leaving his house without the help of a stylist. 

“I…I just mean you don’t wear anything other than the same sweater and pants combination to work, so… please excuse my surprise.”

Jaehyun's eyes flicker over your figure before masking it with an awkward cough. You reach out and pull the shades over his head, the look bothering you more than anything else. He doesn’t respond to it, at least not in a way that’s obvious, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do—you fixing his hair and unquestionably awful sense of style.

“There’s a soju place a few blocks ahead. Or if you’re not into that, there’s a noodle shop just at the edge of K-town,” Jaehyun rambles on, not meeting your eye. “If you’re looking for something inexpensive—"

“You came all the way here to give me directions?” You raise an eyebrow. You might even be enjoying this, although your inner voice bites back at you, denying it.

Jaehyun shakes his head, the red in his ears pulsing back up. “No. I…I needed some fresh air.”

“You…have someplace to be then?”

Jaehyun might not realize it, but the answers he gives always have room for teasing. Aloof. Vague. Yet somehow sweet.

“And you’ll go alone? At this hour? No, I’ll accompany you,” he says out loud, trying to play off the sudden vocal inflection. You sigh. Boys will be boys, as they say. Even if they’re twenty-six.

You let him keep you company. Though the first few minutes are painfully quiet, neither of you knowing quite what to say without starting a disagreement, you continue your walk through a city that never sleeps. It’s awkward even, being side by side without you seething at his charming, (undoubtedly) fake smile. He feels real, for once, and you don’t know how to react. There seem to be some gold-tinted cracks appearing in your reality, slowly but surely, and you’re not very good at patching anything other than fabric.

“You know, it’s actually a little relieving to see Korean letters here,” you say, sighing. You never thought you’d be so corny, but it really does feel good being here. 

Or is it him? 

“Thanks,” you add quietly, hoping he doesn’t hear. No, maybe you do. You can’t tell at this point.

“I…I know what it’s like,” he says, so softly that it almost gets carried away by the wind. He clears his throat, an ‘ah’ escaping his lips as he stops abruptly.

“We…We missed the turn,” he declares, a little sheepish as he scratches the back of his head.

You look at him in disbelief. “Jaehyun, how long have you lived here?”

“Oh, I was born here actually,” he says, tilting his face to look at you, blunt sarcasm evident on it. “How many times have you lost your way to the convenience store in Seoul?”

“Literally zero times.”

Jaehyun puffs a cheek before going back to normal and turning a hundred and eighty degrees down the street.

“Hey, wait up!” you huff at his increased pace, half jogging to keep up.

You reach the acclaimed noodle shop, your breath barely within your lungs and swearing at Jaehyun who looks like he wasn’t bothered one bit. He reaches his hand out to help you and you swat it away, chest still heaving with your hands on your knees.

“Dickhead,” you hiss.

“I don’t think I deserved that,” he responds with a widening smile. 

“Asshole,” you say, standing up straight to glare at him.

“What would Seoul say hearing their beloved designer swear like this?” Jaehyun looks almost amused, as if you hadn’t shared an awkward time together, like two teenagers who were forced to walk home together from the bus stop.

“They can go to hell,” you retort. “As can you.”

Jaehyun laughs, a strange sound to hear and you blink a few times, unsure of what to do. You wonder if it’s the night playing tricks or if Jaehyun really is an actual person, not the basket of preprocessed insults you were used to. The cracks are widening—you’re not sure if they’re meant to be patched.

Perhaps you were a little eager to enter someplace warm, but you feel immense relief in this little shop, despite the smell of chili paste and noodle soup wafting through the air. It’s a little empty; in fact, you two seem to be the only people there apart from some students at the other corner, but you sit there in your own bubble, talking with Jaehyun of all people about which singer is better. He laughs occasionally, still managing to catch you off-guard with how honest it sounds and you wonder for a moment, how nice this feels. For the first time in a month, your heartbeat seems to have settled at a normal rate.

“What?” you enounce, a little offended. “What’s so wrong about my love life?”

“You just- You just don’t seem that type,” he explains, his ears as red as the bowl.

“I don’t have time for commitments, Jaehyun,” you sigh. “It’s what happens when you’re good at your job.”

Jaehyun nods, something akin to agreement in his response. 

“So, your, uh, what is it? Training camp? What’s that about?” you ask, in between blowing your food.

“You could really Google things once in a while, you know?” he replies, bringing his chopsticks close to his mouth.

You roll your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not one of your creepy stalkers, Mr. Jung.”

“Nothing to do with that,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s for kids interested in fashion, modeling, photography—stuff.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I just sponsor them. You know how difficult it is to get noticed in…this industry,” he explains, like it’s not a big deal. Nothing ever seems to be a big deal to him.

You nod, unable to help the smile. Maybe it isn’t a big deal, but you’re sure now that you were mistaken. Just a little bit. 

“I was lucky,” you mumble. “I can’t believe they saw those ugly embroidered patches and decided to sponsor me, oh my god. That sweater was hideous.”

Jaehyun laughs loudly. “They saw me cleaning outside my school and decided to pick me up and ship me straight to Paris.”

“Nothing’s worse than the first day.” You take another mouthful, the taste savoury and filling. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure they photoshopped my ears out in the first magazine shoot I had.”

You laugh, leaning in a little closer. “Your first year was rough, huh?”

He hums, his eyes flickering from your nose to your lips. It makes you a little self-conscious, blood rushing to your cheeks at an unexpected pace. Who knew Jaehyun could have such an effect on you? 

Your eyes flutter over his face once again.

He’s handsome. But it’s the sort of handsomeness that tells you, you don’t know much beyond it. You look back at your bowl, sobering up and completing the rest of the noodles.

It’s still midnight blue in the faraway sky as you walk down the streets. Most of the people you see out and about are those drunk off their faces from club hopping or a particularly enthusiastic group of tourists. The watermelon soju, while better with budae-jjigae and arguably the best soju flavor, somehow had little effect on you with the bitter aftertaste still settling in. The crowds in other places would make for great people-watching but you walk in a lonely street that calls for proximity. Beside you, Jaehyun sneezes, the sound of it making you jump on the quiet sidewalk.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun,” you huff, wincing at the sound, “you sounded like a fucking tractor.”

Jaehyun laughs, looking down at the pavement. When he looks back at you, the circles underneath his eyes seem to have darkened and you wonder if yours are the same. Yours can’t possibly be as important as his, though, and you wonder if it’s appropriate to laugh at how dorky he looks.

You find yourself not wanting to walk back into the safety of your suite. Jaehyun has a look of calm across his features, drawing over the landscape around you. New York lights don’t faze him, they only reflect in his eyes. 

The way his soft breaths fan out against his lips remind you that he is human, after all—he has a soul and body, thoughts and its beautiful intricacies. When he turns back to you, you feel those criminal feelings all over again, except this time it’s even louder. It feels so wrong, and yet you can’t help but think of the liberation that could come with his lips on yours. 

You could swear out loud, all the colorful words ready at the tip of your tongue.

“Your collar’s…”

Jaehyun’s voice trails off, his hand moving to fix your flipped collar, and when the heat of his skin brushes your neck, you try to not think of where else his hands could be, his lips could be. 

In fact, there’s a moment within where it’s perfectly reasonable for him to kiss you, the taste almost on your tongue. But Jaehyun moves away, an indecipherable look across his face.

“I should get going,” he says, “I have a- I have a shoot early tomorrow—today.”

You nod, cheeks coloring at your own unsaid thoughts. Just what have you done to yourself? Why is your skin searing, why does your stomach feel upside down and why were you so ready to give in to him? To Jaehyun? You’ve never felt want like this before, this need to press skin against skin in a manner so illicit. 

You part with a short goodbye, the sudden loneliness in your path making you want to backtrack, ask if you can go somewhere else again—maybe there’s a club nearby so you can see him through a round of shots as you usually do. Maybe the bitter feelings will return then. 

When you think of the words you exchanged over the course of so unusual a night—your former unforgiving words contradict you. You hate the realization but being so obscure in front of a camera doesn’t have to mean he’s pretentious. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe someday you’ll even admit it.

You feel a flash of heat in your face. You are not running to Jung Yoonoh—what an embarrassing thought. If the very core of your being isn’t repulsed by it, there’s something wrong with you. 

There’s something definitely wrong with you, love.

You breathe sharply, trying to organize your thoughts. As if the paparazzi wouldn’t have a treat out of this meeting you had with him if they got to know. You’d better limit it to the only one.

You bite your nails out of force of habit. It’s not going to help. You know. But there’s hardly anything else to cool your nerves.

Front row tickets to New York Fashion Week—the most mortifying dream out of all the ones you’ve ever had. The way Taeyong fidgets, you want to believe he’s in the same boat as you—it makes you thankful even. 

Even outside of New York, Lee Taeyong is known for booking out exclusively intimate spaces. There are some props for the pre-show photography, including inked sketches on giant vertical banners stuck to the walls and tables with a messy collection of coffee cans, pencils and a sewing machine. Diverse types of fabric roll off the table in long strips, gently lining the floor till they end midway to another table. It’s a mess—a mess you made look good.

You’d left that and the backstage behind now. All eyes are on the sparsely lit runway, your aspirations coating the air in a thick veil. Are you ready? You won’t know till the first model steps out and till you can elicit a response from the audience.

Jaehyun’s at another venue—career before friendship, or, heaven forbid, attraction. You’d seen the fitting, cape skirt doing daringly well with his long legs clad in black pants, and a classy vest over a ruffled white shirt. You hate seeing other designs before a show, but god, were you glad you’d visited Givenchy to meet Johnny. 

But you’re relieved even, that Jaehyun isn’t here. You don’t have the strength to face him anyway, all your energy directed into this chasm of whatever you’d call six months of effort. You want to call yourself accomplished. You want to be proud of yourself.

So this time, you remember all twenty-six minutes of it.

God, they look so beautiful up there, when they’re being looked at, seen for what they are—you’ll never get over it. There’s still hardly much to remember, except this time you’re happy to do it all over again. Effort only exists if it’s acknowledged.

It settles in quite a while later, the weight of all you’d done. You could almost cry, but that’s better left to pillows and the unrelenting skies above a midnight-coated rooftop. This is your moment. For once, you’re anything but afraid. 

Afterparties are still not your thing. 

However, you had your nicest outfit picked out and Lee Taeyong’s fancy, themed afterparties are something notorious among your colleagues. You’ve heard designers tend to go all out, wearing the best things they’ve designed even if it makes them a little embarrassed to be wearing their own work.

You feel a sigh leave your lips as you finally find a place to sit, your earlier conversations leaving you drained of social energy. You don’t feel alien—it’s strange—and their compliments feel almost warm. The music playing over the speakers is something, you’re sure, from a 60’s American movie, and while it has its own strange allure, the champagne gives you a larger dose of relief. 

In fact, if you’re not mistaken, it’s quite like the ballroom in Paris, although significantly smaller. Burgundy wallpaper and lit up crystals hanging in hexagonal shapes across the ceiling—it’d look lovely on a dress too.

Taeyong’s speech, of course, gives you a spike of anxiety with the sudden announcement of his label’s future, a brand now. He smiles on the small podium, everyone admiring his radiance when suddenly he gestures at you, the glass in your hand feeling hotter and hotter.

“…I couldn’t do this without the only designer I felt was up to this—the first designer to work under my brand, as of now…” 

You try not to blush under all the pairs of eyes that turn to you. 

“(name), thank you.” 

Success feels good. Gratitude feels even better.

Everything feels natural, as if a dream gone right. You’re no longer afraid of the world you stepped into, or the accumulation of feelings that molded you into the person you are now. The confidence you so chased after as if it were morphine, you’re going to be keeping an eye on it before it can run away again.

There’s still one little problem to your night of triumph, though. 

Jaehyun hasn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you entered, a conversation yet pending. You already know he looks good in the plainest of T-shirts, so it might be a no-brainer that he looks absolutely stunning in a suit. The crystals lining the lapels of his coat glimmer amidst the crowd he’s gathered. It’s hard to come in contact, however. He’s magnetic, almost formidable in the way he attracts attention, and you know it’s something that comes with being a man of few words. 

“You’re not enjoying the party?” you ask, taking in Jaehyun’s figure on the veranda overlooking the garden. He sits on one of the mahogany chairs, swirling the glass of champagne with a look of indifference coating his eyes and lips.

“I am,” he says, turning to face you. “Needed a short break.”

“I suppose being the most attractive man in the room needs a break,” you say, taking a seat beside him.

A wry laugh leaves his lips, as he lays his eyes on you. “You don’t seem bothered by it though?”

“I believe that pretty is as pretty does,” you say, your lips twitching.

Jaehyun smiles, furrowing his eyebrows yet still. “You think multimillionaire companies are built on things like inner beauty?”

He’s right. What’s inside is beautiful—it’s too idealistic a phrase. You sigh, adjusting your sleeve. It’s a difficult life, walking the runway no one dares to step on. 

I think you’d make that cut too, you want to tell him.

“You know the best thing I got told today?” you ask, diverting the stream of conversation. You think he’s a friend. Even if it could be the champagne talking. Even if you want something more than the innocence of friendship. 

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Did Cristóbal Balenciaga’s ghost show up to compliment you?”

“No,” you emphasize, laughing at his pronunciation. “It was this girl. A student. Said she wrote an essay about me.”

Jaehyun hums, dimples marking his cheeks. “I didn’t know a student could get you so giddy.”

You laugh, looking down at your hands before resting your gaze on him again. He leans forward in his seat, strands of hair falling over his face from the rest and a contemplating look over his features. He looks much, much different from when you first saw him, and even handsomer, if that were possible. He’s grown up from the awkward boy you saw in the press release pictures of the Saint Laurent Fall Collection—he looks sharp and valiant on front covers, his shoulders broad and his eyes darling. Jaehyun is still unironically the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. He might even be one of the sweetest, inside out. 

You look to his lips, full as ever. Perhaps you have something to confess. Secrets aren’t meant to be kept so long.

“Jaehyun,” you call, bringing his attention before faltering. It’s not like you’re the only one fawning over his smile. You get up instead, excusing yourself. “I’ll see you inside I suppose.”

“You know I like you, right?”

You turn around. “What?”

Jaehyun gets up, brushing his suit and fixing the lapels. The gentle night haze and the contrasting calls of the brightly lit party inside brush over an effect you’ve never felt before. “I…I like you. It’s pretty straightforward, I think.”

You deny it, or rather, some repressed little emotion inside you denies it vehemently. “Jaehyun, really. I admit I was a complete asshole to you and- and...it was…kind of you to accompany me that night but—”

“Stop. Don’t- Don’t call that kind. You’re not seeing the full picture.”

You stand there, unsure of what to do as you feel your chest grow warmer. Jaehyun turns his head upwards, letting out an audible breath. You can see conflict on his face, the struggle of someone still mulling over the perfect words.

“I don’t hate you. I never really hated you even if I wanted to.”

You suppose it wouldn’t be the right time to say that you might have indulged in that.

“I did,” you confess. “I hated you for a very, very long time, Jaehyun.”

“I know,” he whispers, looking straight at you. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging—”

“Jaehyun, I don’t care about that,” you say, your voice rising, “You told me you felt suffocated in bow ties and laughed when I asked if you wanted to run away with me. I just ended up thinking you were a goddamn liar.”  

“Fine,” he says quietly in his baritone timbre, sounds of the chatter from inside numbing away. “Then let me be honest.”

“When I met you, I thought there was someone like me doing just the same—so…suddenly in the midst of everything. Even if you were a complete asshole to me. You were still real.”

He phrases it delicately, lilting, as if that hasn’t been your whole purpose here.  He’s only a breath away from you, but you don’t want to push him away this time. There’s a moment’s pause.

“Between work and myself, which is more important? For once, I thought I could answer that question.”

Your breaths are soft and shallow as they fall, trying to understand his words.

“And then you just fucking stopped. You stopped flying out and I’d barely see you outside of Seoul like you- like you gave up or something. I didn’t understand—what happened to you?”

Jaehyun looks at you with a hardened expression, ears turning red as if he hadn’t expected this outburst of truth. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. It’s not like him to open his mouth and let out words that are raw and honest; it makes you feel the weight even more. You were still kids that night. You’re not anymore.

“Jaehyun,” you whisper before reaching your hand out and placing it against his cheek.

It’s so hard to not take in the details. The prominence of the muscle by his mouth when he speaks, the fine lines by his nose which appear sporadically or the look of complete reverence in his eyes when he’s staring at you like this—everything those runway shots can’t possibly capture. Your eyes trail to his lips, your own drawn to it with a desire you don’t know how to comprehend—and don’t quite wish to, either.

You want to believe he made the first move but you give in so easy, it’s alarming. Your lips move against his in a rhythm new and frantic, his hands gripping you with full strength at the waist and you part your lips to allow a deeper kiss. Your hands are free to roam his perfectly styled hair, tousling it in a fashion that makes him groan, only to push you harder against the wall. 

“I should’ve- I should’ve let you kiss me that night,” he mumbles against your lips. “Maybe I…I wouldn’t have made you hate me.”

“Maybe you should shut up and kiss me right now,” you respond, your tongue pressing against his, effectively doing the job.

It’s not difficult to see stars when his hips press against yours, his hand resting on one thigh to pull it up slightly. You feel the impact of it head-on, almost moaning out loud when his fingers press harder against the back of your thigh.

“Tell me- Tell me you want this,” he breathes out when he breaks the kiss.

You respond with reconnecting your lips, your tongue sliding against his in fervent affirmations. You’ve already forfeited your modesty, there’s no reason to stop.

You leave early, getting into the car you’d booked for the night. It would be far more embarrassing were it not for the separation between the front and backseats, when Jaehyun’s hands are up your clothes and his lips rough against your neck. The lip colour has smudged by the side of Jaehyun’s lips, a short giggle escaping you when you notice. It’s not enough to halt the kissing, or feeling each other up —something that feels long overdue. You try to keep your sounds to a minimum but Jaehyun seems to not care about things as worthless as shame, at least for the moment.

“Well, you’re about as graceful as a sea lion when you’re off the runway,” you hiss when Jaehyun’s teeth prick your skin.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” he responds in a low tone, the rest of his retort pushed away by his lips against your mouth.

You don’t have time to take in the details of Jaehyun’s apartment because he’s already carrying you to the bed, your legs around his waist and continuing to kiss you as if making up for something. All those years, you could have been doing this. Maybe you do have some regrets.

The material of his dress shirt feels expensive but clothes are not what you need right now. His phone rings once but he drags a finger over it to reject the call, his mouth still pressing against your collarbone. The only sounds you hear are rugged breathing and you fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as you pull it over his shoulders. The city lights below you reach through the drawn curtains, all the unrelenting complicacies left behind in those faraway streets.

Jaehyun makes a sound of annoyance at the phone ringing yet again. He breaks apart from you, receiving the call while his fingers massage his temple.

“Hyung, I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later—”

“I was just wondering where you disappeared and you don’t even grace me with a hello?” Johnny’s voice rings clear in the all too silent bedroom.

“Hyung—”

“Wait a minute.” There’s a pause within which Jaehyun seems to tense up. “Are you fucking? Like did you leave the party to get la—”

“Hyung. I’m hanging up.” 

The coral pink spread over his ears is almost as pretty as the look of pure annoyance over his face.

“That—”

“Didn’t happen,” you complete, giggling. If someone were to tell you’d be seeing Jaehyun like this a few months ago, you wouldn’t know whether to be embarrassed or exhilarated.

You place your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling him into another kiss.

Sex is barely ever beautiful—even if it’s Jung Yoonoh over you, planting kisses from your mouth to jaw, neck to chest and whispering sweet, delicious words against each part. He certainly knows how to use that tongue of his, better than you’d expect from a boy so pristine.

It doesn’t matter if it’s not beautiful, when it’s just like a slow dance—in shared solace and love out of time. You bite your lips to stop smiling too often for it to feel as serious and indifferent as all the other times. Sometimes you feel Jaehyun grinning into the crook of your neck, the giddiness of love taking over the movement of your hips against his. The perfect anatomy of his, paired with his candied words makes you think that maybe you do fit together.

Jaehyun pushes into you at a steady pace, your fingers digging into his back and over his shoulder blades only to draw out sounds more pleasing to your ears. You let someone else take charge for once, his praising whispers of ‘that’s my baby’ or ‘you just look so good’ far too teasing but he follows through, your body barely able to respond apart from shaking and shuddering till you reach your high. 

The sound of skin against skin dies down well into the night and you get cleaned, still blissed out from making the summit of all your senses. It’s warm inside, despite turning the air conditioner on.

“Jaehyun,” you call, lowering yourself to press a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Hm?” He gives you a drowsy smile, arm under his head and hair sticking to his forehead funny.

“Did you really not hate me? Not even once?” You rest your cheek against your palm as you lie beside him.

Even under the dim lights, it’s not hard to spot the blush on him when he positively glows. Jaehyun reminds you of warm auburn and the touch of cool satin—it’s easy to make things, find inspiration in love.

“Oh my god, you were lying!” you accuse, sitting up straight. “There’s no way you didn’t hate me. I called your modeling as good as a coconut’s!”

“As you so love to remind me,” he mumbles.

There’s a brief moment before the two of you crack up, his deep laughter perfectly mismatched with yours. There’s hardly many sounds on the eighteenth floor, but maybe you’ve always been yearning for this privacy—this proximity in shared laughter and warm touches. 

“No, I didn’t,” Jaehyun answers your question after it’s quiet once again. “I thought...I think you’re…”

Jaehyun trails off, his eyes flickering over your face before fixing on your lips as his own tug into a smile. He gulps. “I think we’d be in trouble if the paparazzi saw us throwing choice words at each other, don’t you think? You were barely out of school then.”

“Me?” You laugh. “You were thinking about me?”

“And a little bit about me.” 

You fall asleep against Jaehyun’s chest with the certainty of kinder tomorrows, a thing he teaches you through whispers against the pillow and fingers playing with your hair. There’s something private in the way he holds your face, something delicate and homely running from his long fingers to his flushed knuckles and the rest of his hand as it presses against your cheek. It’s warm here, and safe, and maybe home is where the heart is, after all.

“Really? You’re not even a little bit sad I’m leaving?” you ask, placing your hand over your heart. “Who’s going to help you when you’re getting bullied in the workplace now?”

Doyoung huffs in annoyance, placing the box down beside the moving truck. “You’re the only one who bullies me in the workplace.”

You adjust the ugly baseball cap on your head, the one Jaehyun had pulled over your head in an attempt to stop you from complaining about his messy apartment. You hadn’t realized you’d worn it all the way to Seoul till the articles about your questionable choice of accessories had surfaced.

“Your boyfriend’s calling,” Doyoung says, making a face as he picks your phone up from the box near him. “I can’t even believe this. All those years of flirting and—”

You snatch it from him, glaring at him for the choice of words. He raises his hands defensively, rolling his eyes at your sudden movement.

“Are you sure you don’t want me flying to Seoul?”

“Unless you’re planning to work in a truck rental.”

You hear Jaehyun laugh on the other side of the line. Is it normal to have blood rush straight from your chest to your ears at the sound of laughter? You hope that doesn’t change.

You’d visited him a day before your flight. It hasn’t been all that long but Jaehyun certainly makes it out to be, just so he can use his cheesy one-liners. You try not to smile thinking about how he had flung his hair band out, immediately tousling his hair back into a pretty mess and struggling to keep a straight face when you’d visited out of the blue. Jaehyun wakes up at one in the afternoon when his schedule is empty and it had appalled you enough to help him out with basic chores before you left. (It didn’t end well. He kept putting his chin on your shoulder and sneaking his arms around you while you did the dishes.)

“(name)? (name), are you daydreaming again?” 

You sigh. “You can’t wait three more days, Jae? It’s, what, one in the morning there!”

“Do you want me saying something cheesy?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I don’t think I can sleep without waking up to your face.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, unable to grace him with a response. The dreamy languor in his voice is more than recognizable and if you’re not mistaken, he’s going to be saying something highly inappropriate.

“Do you know what dream I had last night?” he asks, the smile almost evident with how suggestive it sounds.

“Jaehyun, no,” you warn before lowering your voice. “I swear if it’s another dirty dream—”

“Come home and I’ll tell you all about it. With demonstrations.”

This time you can’t help the laughter, trying to mask it with a cough only to fail. You push the back of your hand against your cheek in order to soothe the involuntary blush. Your perfume smells just like him, and you realize suddenly why he’d gifted it to you.

“That definitely makes me want to leave faster,” you quip.

“I certainly hope so.”

It’s different now, especially if you remember your feelings just last February. Change feels easy for the first time in your life. You check off your list of items, counting the boxes as they’re lifted onto the truck. It took a good amount of thinking, and a bunch of fights before you could decide. New York isn’t so bad. Not when you have reason to be there. You’d like to call it love.

A list of things you do appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.

[yeolmae-s]

a chanbaek analysis from a veteran exo-l

before anything else there are a few disclaimers i'd like to make:

i am writing this analysis right now because as a non exo stan i'm not into chanbaek that much anymore. of course i like them to some degree since i'm writing this and all but it's nothing in comparison to the way i felt about them two years ago. so i feel like it's easier to keep a less clouded (?) state of mind being where i'm at right now, mentally, in regards to them. i feel like i can look at things more objectively, which is why i decided to write this and share it with you all.

for all the smart asses out there, this is a ship analysis. yes, i’m reading too much into everything. that’s what an analysis is.

all translation credits goes to @/fyeah-chanyeol

i'm a chanyeol stan. this analysis will, most likely, have more information about him in comparison to baekhyun. this is simply because i consumed more content about him since he's my bias (such as magazine interviews, fancams).

i don't stan exo anymore, but it's not because of anything they did. i liked them for a long time and made a lot of different friends because of this fandom, therefore i experienced a lot of hurt, scandals, fights and didn't deal very well with many things, so i decided to leave. this didn't happen because of exo themselves and neither did it happen because of the fandom itself. it happened because of the relationships i had.

that being said, i haven't been following them closely for the past year and a half, but i still keep up with stuff a bit, although not chanbaek related stuff since i gotta dive in kinda deeper for that lmao. so this analysis is mostly in depth for 2012-2018. if anything that you perceive as significant happened after 2018 i'm more than willing to hear your opinions about it.

so, let's get started!!

MAMA ERA

I have always felt like Chanyeol and Baekhyun's relationship was strange. I started shipping them when they debuted and more specifically because of the 130128 ISAC. When I was younger I didn't see a lot to discuss in their ISAC interactions besides it being cute and shippy, but I've started to look at it differently now.

I think everyone knows how ISAC is known for being basically a stage for fanservice. The whole "dating ground for idols" issue aside, judging from the amount of attention they direct towards the fans who manage to attend the event, idols are clearly instructed to perform fanservice. EXO's first ISAC had to be full of it, obviously, and they did give fans a lot to be happy about, content we still get giddy about to this day, and I'm sure they were instructed to act like this to please us. I don't believe that fanservice equals "false interactions": if two individuals are talking, touching each other, they are interacting, even if it is a carefully planned setting made specifically for pleasing fans. They still get reactions out of one another through these interactions, it is still relevant to the way these people's relationship will develop; even though these acts are done with the intent of pleasing a crowd.

Don't get me wrong, though. I don't think the 2013 ISAC fanservice changed anything in Chanbaek's relationship. In fact, I just want to use it as a way to illustrate something I will explain later on.

To be remembered in an industry you must have an image. You won't be getting anywhere without a carefully constructed visual image. Marilyn Monroe is always used as an example of this: she's someone you can easily make a costume of and people will instantly recognize it as her. She's basically a concept by now: blonde hair, red lips and white hair. These aspects take our mind back to her instantly. Of course, most celebrities don't achieve this type of icon status, but it is still important to cling to a specific concept/image of what you want your celebrity self to be perceived as. Without this, you'll be forgotten as soon as your career ends.

When Chanyeol debuted, he clung to the first trait they gave him: being a happy person, a.k.a "happy virus". If you were not an EXO fan back in 2013 then it's likely you're not even aware of this nickname that was given to him, but it's basically just what it sounds like (lol). He was bright, energetic, had a "teeth rich" smile (another nickname that was given to him back then), was able to give 10/10 laughter reactions to MCs and to his members jokes, was always enthusiastic to interact and smile towards fans. He even introduced himself as "happy virus Chanyeol" in interviews (and later on that changed to "EXO's voice Chanyeol" or "EXO's rapper Chanyeol").

I feel like Chanyeol was very much aware of this "must have" that I mentioned, this need to have an image pasted into yourself and have that image be what people will remember you as. We're all complex and multifaceted individuals, but the general public needs something simple to grab on to, something easy to remember. That happy guy from EXO? I know who he is! I'm sure this is the path Chanyeol chose, back when he debuted: to pick a trait given to you by the public and make it a huge part of your image.

However, that image of him didn't last very long. It certainly became tiring to worry so much about how he was being perceived, to carefully construct something so his career would last, specially when his group had so many scandals and went through a sudden burst of popularity that changed their lives completely. By 2017, Chanyeol already had a change of mind in relation to his career, these changes being mostly due to how he felt about music and what he wanted to do with it.

He recognized himself as having always being impatient, which might be the reason why he clung to a specific image so fast right after debuting:

From Fall Magazine in 2017

"At the moment I just want to enjoy myself with the music as it comes, without feeling as though I have to do something. It isn’t a greed from impatience, I could call it more of a greed to do better."

"When I first debuted I thought I was very optimistic, but as time has passed I think a more reserved side of me is showing."

"I think I've grown in many ways. Maybe it’s because it’s as though I perform everyday, but the stage has become comfortable for me. Shall we say I’ve become more calm and composed? [...] I think I’ve become more mature."

He matured. He's still bright and energetic but he's also more reserved. He managed to keep up the fanservice that his fans adore in a way that is more fitting to his actual personality. It still is an image, but an image that's not as exhausting as his previous one, with its strict demands to act in a certain way all the time. I remember specific interview with MCs demanding him to smile (although jokingly, of course) saying things like "Aren't you EXO's happy virus?", so I'm sure he felt pressured.

This is interesting to think about when put side by side with his relationship with Baekhyun. Back when they debuted, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were close friends that clearly felt comfortable with each other, and it isn't surprising to think that Baekhyun would be Chanyeol's first pick when he thought about doing fanservice with someone. Of course, I can't exactly pinpoint their first fanservice moment since I'm not a walking EXO encyclopedia anymore, but I can say with certainty that both of them felt like it worked as soon as they first tried it with the fans, and that's the reason why they kept doing it. Conveniently, they were both good friends, so all was good.

Until well, it wasn't.

At some point, Chanyeol's interactions with Baekhyun seemed too eager for Baekhyun himself. There are various moments where this is visible, such as this one:

Why are you grabbing my wrist out of nowhere young man........

Or...

That one pic where Jongdae, who was in front of them, looked so damn uncomfortable I can't even bring myself to google it

Of course, they had some over the top fanservice that did work out pretty well, such as this one, both of them imitating Jonghyun's and Taemin's Internet War stage, which seems a little scripted now that I look at it properly, with Baekhyun seemingly expecting Chanyeol to do whatever it is that he did on that day. (Can you imagine this: both of them backstage, watching Jonghyun's and Taemin's performance in silence, and one of them just blurts out "We should do that too!". What the fuck was going on)

By the way, if you have never seen the original Internet War performance, you can watch it here.

This is what they were imitating.

Tumblr won’t let me upload the gifs for this moment for some reason, so here and here.

You can't tell me Baekhyun wasn't expecting it already, lol.

Now, know what this moment reminds me of? ISAC. On their Internet War imitation moment, Baekhyun seemed fine, playful, even, agreeing. During ISAC, however, doing basically the same thing again (this time on a lighter way even; since they weren't, you know. Imitating a strong performance such as Internet War.), he appears reluctant. It's a bit painful to watch.

What changed? The ISAC event happened a few months after the SMTOWN concert where they did the Internet War thing, so what made things become so different?

If this has enough likes I’ll make a second part!

[haikyuuhimbosandhypebeasts]

Snow Fell

A/N: Back at it again with the Anilysium collab posts! Took a lil bit out of me since I got hyper fixated on YTTD again along with moving house, but I figured I’d try to keep my writing spirit alive. Along with this I’ll be making something for a very special someone for Secret Santa and I have an entry in the NSFW collab this month as well. Keep an eye out if you’re a Yanfei fan. Now have some vaguely holiday themed angst.

Ship: Beidou x gn!reader

Genre: Angst (no comfort.)

Trigger/Content Warnings: One sided feelings, reader is a little creepy sometimes, a crewmate looks at you in a creepy way as well, alcohol consumption (recreational).

Word Count: 565

Masterlist: Click here for holiday cheer from fellow authors!

“I’ll drink to that!” A merry sailor said cheerily, wrapping an arm around his meek mate’s shoulder and lifting his mug high in the air. Before his more experienced comrades could comment on his joviality and hush him, though, he threw the creamy, festive beverage in his cup to the back of his throat.

“That was my drink, asshat,” you mumbled disdainfully at your crewmate. He seemed to not hear you, so you turned your attention to the scenery outside.

It was beautiful for the holidays, really. Glittering snow stacked on top of cobblestone paths, dyed orange from street lanterns- it looked just like some scene out of a landscape painting. You weren’t often free on the holidays- to be honest, you can’t remember when you last had a break on a day when most things were closed. You often ran errands for the captain of The Crux, Beidou. This wasn’t out of laziness or anything, but she was rather a busy woman who could be out slaying wicked beasts with her massive weaponry and electro vision and you wanted to help her any way you could. This came out in little favors here and there- one day you caught her when she was passingly mentioning how hungry she was under her breath while you were docked at Liyue and you had brought her some spicy dish from the Wanmin restaurant. You remembered the way her face lit up subtly upon seeing the food. The memory soon turned into your motivation.

You craved approval from Beidou, her fruity voice cascading smoothly to your waiting ears. You longed to feel her pat your back in approval or notice you more than the rest of your crew. You started to find yourself jealous of whoever she snuck off to see in the middle of the night for “business meetings.”

But to be honest, it was entirely your fault you felt this way. Your longing was starting to change you, to reflect in your morals of treating everyone equally- your bias was plain as day anymore. I mean, who else would you be memorizing dates and dishes and outfits and occasions for?

The drink thief from earlier eyed you conspicuously, gaining attention from his meek partner, making a note to drag along the curve of your waist before landing on your face.

“Y/n, are you thinkin’ about the captain?” He asked bluntly.

“D-don’t say that!” The partner hissed, then looked up at you with a nervous gaze, “Sorry, y/n. He’s had too much.”

“Naw, I haven’t!” He hissed, “‘m just worried. They look miserable without Captain Beidou bein’ here.”

“Shut your mouth,” you said impulsively, not thinking about the position it put you in to deny it so quickly and vehemently.

You faced the window again begrudgingly, trying to hide the expression of guilt and bitterness that displayed fairly plainly on your face.

The worst part was that he was entirely correct. You wanted the security of seeing Captain Beidou next to you for tonight, not possibly enjoying festivities with someone else. A wave of shame washed over you when you thought of how selfish you were acting with someone as great as the Captain herself. You were just a measly crewmate, you had no right to try and think of her like that.

The fight you had with yourself internally only grew louder and louder.

Snow fell.

Want some good holiday themed sfw fic? Here’s that masterlist again!

[sub-k-pop-archive]

what are ur favorite blogs?

Hi! So, I currently follow A LOT of blogs, which made this quite hard to put together, but I tried, lol. If you’re on desktop, you can actually find a few of my favorite blogs listed on my Tumblr page :)

But yeah, since I’m mostly into NCT and SKZ at the moment, this will primarily consist of sub!idol blogs that write for those two groups. Also, I’ve added some non-smut / non-sub!idol blogs that I really like, in case you’d like to check those out too.

With that said, here you go!

Disclaimer: If you aren’t on this list and I follow you, please, don’t take it personally. These blogs are just a small sample of all the blogs I follow and love, so don’t worry, you definitely belong on this list as well! If I follow you or archive your fics, then I love your writing without a doubt ♥

Sub!idol blogs

@drippinlovetalk - one of my favorite blogs of all time. If you’re not following her already, I highly recommend you to do so. Nothing but creative, well-written, and just overall amazing fics. It doesn’t matter who your bias in NCT is, you'll end up reading everyone’s fics anyway because they’re all great.

@lovingonrepeat - love, love, love her blog!! Her fics are so nice to read, I love them. I tend to get distracted easily when I’m reading, but her stories are just so well put together that it’s impossible to stop, lol. But seriously!! I’ve re-read all of her fics multiple times, they’re just that good ♥

@capriccio-con-espressione - oof, this one. Her fics are very intense to me, in a way. I don’t know how to really describe it, but once you check out her work, you’ll understand what I mean. There’s always something to them that makes them really memorable and stand out. And don’t even get me started on her sub!Kun fics, it’s embarrassing how many times I’ve re-read those, lmao. And the sub!Winwin one too!! Gosh, I loved that one so much as well!! Seriously, just check out everything she has, you won’t regret it.

@kisskissbanggang - I love her fics, oh my god. Both the sfw and the nsfw ones, they’re just something else. If anyone wants to read some amazing sub!idol fics with a great plot, character portrayal, and just everything in general, this is the blog for you! I especially love her sub!SKZ fics, but she writes incredible NCT fics as well. They’re just all lovely tbh :’)

@lavenderbexlatte - !!!!!! Another blog that not only writes great sub!idol fics, but they have immaculate plots as well?? And it all just comes together so nicely?? And it’s so captivating too?? Ugh, I just love reading her work so much!! So go and support her as well!! She’s incredibly talented and definitely deserves more love and attention!!

@submissivekpop - one of the first sub!idol blogs I’ve followed, and I still love re-reading her fics to this day. Well-written, great to read, and just overall amazing. I’ve always loved coming back to her blog and checking out her fics whenever I discovered a new kpop group, she never disappoints ♥. Please, give her lots of love and support, she deserves it so much :)

@artificialvoe - another one of my absolute favorites!! I’m a sucker for sub!idol reactions, and this blog is just heaven for me. Lots of different groups, themes, kinks, etc., there’s something for just about everyone. (I’ve also discovered quite a few kinks thanks to this blog, but that is a story for another day entirely-)

@sluttyten - also one of the first sub!idol blogs I’ve followed and one that I still cherish to this day. You have it all here - reactions, imagines, oneshots, series, everything. So much content, talent, and just all things great in one place. I don’t think I’ll ever stop recommending her blog, it’s one of my favorite accounts on all of Tumblr. I’ve literally spent most of my time at my part-time job reading her work, and it made it 1000% better.

@submissive-bangtan - ugh!! The power, the skill, the execution!! If you want to read a perfectly written fic with lots of plot, great dialogue, and beautifully described scenery (in other words: a fic that’s tastefully horny with a great deal of talent), this is a blog for you. It’s also one of the first blogs that introduced me to sub!idol content (and awakened the inner dom), so it holds a special place in my heart. But wait!! There’s more!! Not only does she write great fics, but she has so many interesting astrology & kibbe posts as well!! What’s not to love? Exactly, it’s all amazing. Now go and give Caro the love she deserves, damn it >:(

Non-sub!idol blogs / non-smut blogs

@warmau - my comfort blog, omg. I love her writing style. All of her stories pull you in so easily and are so fun to read! If you ever want to destress, relax after a hard day, or just want to enjoy a heart-warming and beautifully written story, check out her fics!! All of them, in fact!! Right now!! Go!!

@jenomark - I’ve been reading her work today for like what? 5 hours straight? Well, guess what? I don’t regret it in the slightest. As I’ve said, I’m a sucker for reactions/headcanons/imagines/etc., and there are just so many!! And they’re so good too!! How have I not discovered this gem of a blog sooner?? I’m in awe :’) 

@neokollection - even though she’s on a hiatus right now, I love going through her blog every now and then and re-reading her work. Another blog that’s just great for whenever you want to relax and be all soft and comfy :> Please give her lots of love, she’s an incredibly talented and hard-working writer ♥

@hoe9for9kpop - so many groups to choose from!! So many incredibly well-written fics!! I’m in love!! One of the first blogs I’ve followed and one that I definitely have a soft spot for. Her content is very diverse, so whatever it is that you’re looking for, you’ll definitely find it here. And not only that, but you’ll discover so many other amazing fics too! Please read them all, they’re great :’(

[tf2strategist]

So, self insert ocs.

As someone who’s blog revolves around this one, I have some thoughts on the post.

Edith was originally a self insert oc. However, since I wanted the fic I was writing to be a sort of love letter to the community, I decided to expand her personality and try to make it so that she could be projected on by anybody. Or at least, as many people as possible. Speaking a second language, feeling out of place, having anxiety about going places, making impressions, the things in her past and mistakes she’s made, all of these things are a mixture of what I feel and what I’ve heard others feel a lot, and so I added them.

But she is, in fact, her own character and 10th class, whom I love a lot. Whether or not she is so wholly unique that she stands out, I don’t care.

But what I did care about, ironically enough, was making an impression. And that came with the mechanics of her class. 

Just because you have a self insert or 10th class OC, you are not obligated in any way to explain what their purpose is, what their reasons are, so long as YOU are happy.

For me, I wanted to come up with a unique 10th class that had her own mechanics, but that’s because I saw untapped potential. If she were to be in the game, it would be near impossible for those mechanics to actually work due to map limitations. 

And that’s the thing, because she’s a work of fiction, it doesn’t matter.

That means I can get as creative as I want with her, because she’s not part of the game. 

As for shipping, my personal rule is not to ship her with any of the mercs! Not in the main fic, anyway. Might make some spinoffs if I ever finish the main one, but I felt that many had a bias towards certain characters they liked, (which is absolutely fair and I love those kinds of fics either way), and I wanted to keep it so that she could have varying relationships with everyone and not just romance! It’s for personal reasons, not influenced by anybody else.

 However, I immensely enjoy seeing people shipping their ocs and self inserts with the team! Why the heck do you think I post x reader headcanons sometimes?

In the end, your characters are not more or less valid, and you don’t love your characters more or less depending on how developed they are.

As long as a character makes you happy, as long as the relationships they share make you happy, as long as you are content, then nobody, and I mean NOBODY can tell you how YOU should write YOUR characters.

You can take overdone concepts and expand upon them in your own way, because your character is unique to YOU.

You can give them modern day clothes and use tropes because your character is unique to YOU.

and YOU,

can do whatever you DAMN want.

You are valid, loved, and your characters, your self inserts, your tenth classes are yours and yours only. I support you all the way!

Do not send hate/harassment towards the author of the post being mentioned here, you goofs. 

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

You don't have to worry about me, thanks! I am DM'ing with a kataanger who gave me the tea. She says ya'll don't really like it but since you can't do shit about it you pretend not to care. She also said you and others would blacklist her if she expressed this publicly. Seriously? Someone expressing anger that a VA for her ship craves another, and you people would act like that to her? If Mae Whitman can have an opinion why can't this Kataanger, who thinks Mae is "kind of acting stupid"?

Hi anon!! I am super glad to hear you won’t be sending more of those asks - again, I know you didn’t mean anything negative by them, but it did a little bit give off the wrong impression. I’m also glad you’ve found the answers you were seeking! However, I have to point something out here. My friend, you are demonstrating a clear example of confirmation bias.

Confirmation bias is “the tendency to process information by looking for, or interpreting, information that is consistent with one's existing beliefs.” In other words, you were looking for someone upset that Whitman liked Zvtara as well as K@taang. And that’s totally fine! There are always people with different opinions in fandom, and you should not feel ashamed for wanting to hear those different perspectives.

However. Just because one person is upset about Whitman liking both ships does not mean every single K@taang shipper feels the same way. It is concerning that you would assume this one fan speaks for the entire fandom, yk? Like, I’ve gotten some nasty asks from Zvtara shippers, but I would never be so callous and uninformed to assume they spoke for the entire Zvtara fandom. Most Zvtara fans (as in, people that are not the rabid stans, who I have no doubt you try to distance yourself from, too!) are lovely people who are content with making and/or supporting fanworks. So why would you assume this one K@taang shipper, particularly after hearing from several others, is preaching the Gospel truth? Several people have said we don’t care about VAs, yet you think we’re all lying based on the word of this one person?

Trust me, anon. A lot of us do not care about Whitman’s thoughts one way or the other on the atla fandom. At the end of the day, she’s just a VA. She wasn’t in the writers’ room. And while it can be cool to hear what VAs think, they didn’t construct the narrative, yk? I love that VAs have fun in their roles and with their characters and hey, if that includes shipping, great for them! I have mad respect for Whitman for enjoying both pairings and successfully staying out of ship wars. I mean, that’s pretty legendary of her. But also… her opinions are irrelevant to me, at the end of the day. I will continue writing fanfic because I love atla, because I love the complexity of the narrative, because I love the friends I’ve made through this fandom. Why would a VA’s thoughts ever change that? Why would we get so angry about something out of our control, lmao?

I promise. Most of us don’t care.

Again, there are some who do, and that is totally fine! I’m not sure why the person you’re talking to thinks we’d blacklist them, lol - they’re simply presenting a different perspective than us. I mean,, that’s not a reason to blacklist someone fjskdljfasldksalks. Of course, I am totally comfortable with people using the block button liberally - curate your own online experience! But generally speaking, a slight difference in thoughts on VAs is not going to incite blacklisting.

So, to the K@taang shipper you’re speaking to - you’re not going to be blacklisted! It’s totally okay if you do care about Whitman’s thoughts. No big thing! However, I do take issue with the suggestion that you think the rest of us are lying when we say we don’t care about Whitman… Like, if you do care about Whitman, what’s so weird about the rest of us not caring about Whitman? Again, no one will blacklist you lmao. But consider not treating yourself as the voice of the K@taang fandom - all one individual can do is express their own opinion. You can’t speak for everyone else, yk?

Anyways. To sum everything up:

“ya'll don't really like it but since you can't do shit about it you pretend not to care”

Nope, we actually just don’t care! Whitman is free to have her own thoughts and feelings like any other fan of the show. Doesn’t impact our lives, lol!

“you and others would blacklist her if she expressed this publicly”

Also nope. In the grand scheme of fandom, this is a super minor difference in opinion. A majority of people are not going to hit the block button because of that, yk?

“Someone expressing anger that a VA for her ship craves another, and you people would act like that to her?”

Nope again! The K@taang fandom is honestly super chill. I think the person you’re talking to is just a little nervous about having an opinion that differs from the majority, which again, there’s no shame in! Fandom would be quite dull without such differences. Also, like I’ve said before, Whitman has expressed positive affections for both Zvtara and K@taang. Honestly, I’m a little confused why you’re so dead-set on the idea that she despises K@taang?? Why does it matter that she likes both??

(Hint: it doesn’t matter, which is what I’ve been saying all along, lol.)

“If Mae Whitman can have an opinion why can't this Kataanger, who thinks Mae is ‘kind of acting stupid’”

They are more than welcome to have their own opinion! In fact, we can all have our opinions. Allow me to list some examples:

1) Whitman likes Zvtara and K@taang.

2) You want Whitman to only like Zvtara (or so your asks have led me to believe).

3) The person you’re speaking to wants Whitman to only like K@taang (or so this ask had led me to believe).

4) I don’t care one way or the other what Whitman thinks! Doesn’t change anything about my personal fandom experience or the canon narrative of the show itself!

I hope this clears things up, anon! I don’t want there to be any further confusion in this matter. Like I said - my friends and I don’t care about Whitman. You and the person you’re speaking to do. It’s… not a huge deal that we disagree?

I guess, then, that maybe you should ask yourself these questions: Why are you so adamantly against recognizing that fans are capable of holding different opinions?

Why were you so desperate to find someone who supports your hypothesis that you sent the same ask over and over to several different people?

Why weren’t you willing to accept the answers you then received that some K@taang shippers don’t care what Whitman thinks?

I can’t answer these questions for you, anon. Right now, to the many people who have viewed the asks you’ve sent on this subject, it seems you were just looking for a fight (which I’m really, really hoping you weren’t!), and that’s not a fandom environment anyone wants to foster. But if you truly wanted to know…

Wouldn’t you have taken “I don’t care about VAs” as an answer?

[bytheangell]

Tbh I found everyone kinda irritating. The only characters that didn’t annoy me were Ariadne, Alastair, and Thomas. Everyone else though 😬😔😩

Listen, I get it. I’m sorry you feel that way since that means you probably didn’t enjoy like 95% of the book, but I get it. Ariadne really started to win me over this book, which I was very glad for because tbh I didn’t really care about her one way or another before so I’m glad to tip her out of that personal neutral zone! And I, very obviously if you’ve been around my blog at all for more than 5 seconds, have a Thomas and Alastair bias you can see from space. 

But I am a very ‘Can find something to love or at least enjoy in nearly every character’ sort of person, so while everyone was making seriously debatable personal choices, I wouldn’t say I found them irritating. I thrive on angst, no matter how ridiculous the set-up, so really the more irritating choices were at the very least angsty moment plot fuel, lol! 

However, I particularly liked the Merry Thieves and all of their moments this book, especially Christopher who I continue to love more every time I’m exposed to content of him. They’re probably the moments and interactions I genuinely enjoyed the most throughout. And it was so nice to see Cordelia finally feel accepted and welcomed by the group, no matter what happens between them. 

And while I wouldn’t say the characters irritated me, I guess the most ‘frustrating’ (would be a better word for me) bits for me were probably watching Lucie and Grace’s entire plot unfold this book. I get their motivations, and would I do anything different to try and bring back someone I love? ...I mean maybe. I’d probably listen to the people constantly telling me ‘hey don’t do this, there’s a reason no one will help and it’s because this is the worst idea ever’ when they’re immortal and know better, but who knows. So while I could stand back and go ‘yeah okay i get it this has to happen for the plot’ it was definitely frustrating to watch Lucie be so easily overlooked as everything else happens that she could get THIS FAR INTO RESEARCHING NECROMANCY AND COMMANDING GHOSTS that no one noticed her helping Grace. (because doing a thing that Tatiana wanted done, for any reason, should’ve been A MILLION RED FLAGS) 

But I still love them as characters (if everyone just made choices I liked there would probably be no plot jfkdslfjklsd), and I’m super curious to see where this all leads for Lucie in the next book. 

[llenvs3000]

What Does the Future Hold?

This has been an interesting and intriguing semester for me. I have always been a fan of writing, so being able to do so for this class, especially on topics that are so interesting to me, has been a great experience. It has also been a great way to interact with my peers during a time of distance education, and I enjoy seeing how everyone has a different approach to things even when we are all writing about the same topic. I feel as if this has expanded my horizons because in some cases I approached a particular topic a certain way and was able to read someone else’s interpretation and reflect upon my own ideals (and sometimes even change them). Because of this, I wanted to thank everyone for an amazing class this semester and for making these blogs so much more enjoyable.

When I think about the term “ethics”, I think about what is important to me and what I believe in. While not exactly the same as morality, the two are very closely connected. Morals are typically what drives a person’s ethics; to me, morals are what you believe in, and ethics is how you act upon those beliefs. I, personally, like to consider myself a very morally driven person – I have a very strong internal sense of right and wrong, and I am not afraid to voice this if need be. I feel as if this may affect my role as a nature interpreter in a number of ways.

As a nature interpreter, I believe that I have a responsibility to remain inclusive and respectful to anyone I meet while working in the field. Inclusivity must be met in a number of ways, all the way from different learning styles to our inherited privilege (Beck et al. 2018). Going back towards the beginning of the semester and the importance of “unpacking your invisible backpack”, as someone who is privileged, there are some things that I don’t understand when it comes to the struggles of others because I have never had to deal with it myself (Gallavan, 2005). It is my responsibility to work on myself, to rid myself of any unconscious discrimination or bias that I may have learned due to the systemic nature of many of these issues. This is something I am all too familiar with – some of these ideals get internalized from a young age, and it is our responsibility to make the effort to unlearn them. I may not be perfect, and there are still things that I need to learn and mental roadblocks that I need to overcome, but I consciously make an effort to make myself a better person so that I can be respectful and inclusive to all, and I feel as if that is very important if I am considering a career in nature interpretation.  

Another way in which my personal morals and ethics may influence my role as a nature interpreter is what motivates me to do this work in the first place. As mentioned in the course content, there are so many issues impacting the natural world that we need to be worried about. These are ongoing issues that have been changing and shaping our world since before I was even born and will continue to do so after I die. Many of these issues can feel very discouraging and may lead to feelings of helplessness. I will never forget when my mother said to me: “Don’t have kids. Don’t bring children into this world, because it is going to sh*t.” She meant it, and I can see where she’s coming from; sometimes it feels like we are taking a step forward, other times it feels like we are taking two steps back. Every day, we watch human greed trump morality, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t discouraged at times as well.  

What’s happening in the world isn’t pretty. Photo retrieved here.

However, kids are the future. We as students are constantly told that we are the future, and this is true – it is our responsibility to try and change the things that have been implemented before us, even if it seems impossible. As mentioned in the course content, we need to pass down hope, hope that future generations will go past sustainability and into regeneration (Hooykaas, 2021). If we pass down the message that this is the way things are and that things will never change, no effort will be made to make that change. This is why I want to become a nature interpreter – I want to pass down that message of hope and the feelings of wonder when it comes to the natural world, just as those before me have done for me, because if it isn’t, nothing is going to change.

Of course, I worry when I think of the future. I even worry about things that will happen long after I am no longer alive and therefore have no personal effect on me. But I would rather pass down feelings of hope, hope that the next generation will be better than we are, take bigger steps and achieve bigger things. Because if they don’t, there may not ever be people that will.

References Beck, L., Cable, T., & Knudson, D. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage for a better world. Sagamore-Venture Publishing. Gallavan, N. (2005). Helping teachers unpack their “invisible knapsacks.” Multicultural Education (San Francisco, Calif.), 13(1), 36–. Hooykaas, A. (2021). Unit 10: Nature Interpretation’s Role in Environmental Sustainability. University of Guelph Courselink. Retrieved from https://courselink.uoguelph.ca/d2l/le/content/666945/viewContent/2597605/View

[myimaginarywonderland]

My dream FE teams for now

First off, this is more focused on getting competitive teams than the one I would like to see but there is also my personal bias in some.

If someone wants to discuss this feel free and also share your teams!

Audi: Nico Müller and Réne Rast

I feel like this one is pretty self explanatory? Réne (no matter what opinion you might have about him) is an outstanding driver and the fact that he has outscored Lucas, one of the best Formula E drivers, just shows his talent. If they don't take him, they would he stupid. Also, I have heard him giggle today and my opinion changed from "I don't like you" to "I want you to get this seat", so here we are.

I originally wanted to put to Amna Al Qubaisi here as I really want her to be in Formula E ( she has some really impressive records and looks promising and I want to see her true potential someday.) However I think putting her here in the next years would be too early as I think she still needs to get some more experience in order to improve as a complete driver. We know how much of a leap FE is in comparison to other championship so I didn't want to just throw her in here. So, Nico seemed like the best and safest choice for now eventhough I will need him to prove hot show his talent a bit more. With Nico and Réne Audi would be one of the strongest line ups and I am sure that they would be one of the most competitive. I don't entirely want to rule Amna out, let's see how she develops and where she goes so we can compare her performance a bit to Nicos. For now though, Nico and René would be safe and obviously talented choice so I went for them in the end.

BMW: Maximilian Günther and Oliver Turvey.

For sure I would keep Max at BMW. He has a bright future and great potential/talented. I am excited to see him battle more at the front next year.

I really wanted to keep Alex but since my goal was to change basically every line up, I decided not to.

And thus, Oliver Turvey was put here. This is for two reasons. One being, he is a driver with a lot of insight and patience (since he stayed with Nio this long) which could for sure benefit the BMW team and potentially help them figure out the problem they had in the second half (or maybe we just thought they were better than they actually were). The second reason being, that I just want him to get a good car and finally show the potential he has. That man has not had the chance to prove himself for so many seasons which needs to finally end.

This would be the most quiet and shy team on the whole grid but somehow I could actually see this working out in a way.

Techeetah: JEV and Antonio Felix Da Costa

No doubt about this. 100% want to see them go more head to head next year. Probably the current team with the most talent. Also, JEV can never leave Techeetah (or I'll have a breakdown) and Antonio seems like he is really getting along with the team and bringing out the best in JEV. I am excited to see how they push each other in the coming year.

This will not be changed and be the only team that I will keep like this mainly so I I can see how much they actually help be the other be a better and complete driver.

Envision: Robin Frijns and Alice Powell

I want Robin to stay at Envision and have shot at a championship. Also, I feel like he really fits in with the team.

I mean, Alice has had some good performances in here past and since FE is the most competitive grid with the best teams, get her in there asap.

Also, I would really enjoy someone more reserved and quiet next to Robin. I have a feeling they would get along and really help each other develop as drivers.

Dragon: Sergio Sette Camera and Jérôme D'Ambrosio

How hesitant I was to put Jérôme here. I was truly struggling. But I feel like the team need a practiced and capable driver like Jérômeuno to get back on top again. Also, I couldn't just let him go and him going back to the team he started with would be really nice.

Sette Camera has been amazing so far and when I saw how happy he was to get this chance and how much he wanted to stay I knew I had to give him a place here. I also feel like he has really gotten how the Dragon car works so that's just another bonus.

Mahindra: Daniel Abt and Alex Lynn

This would be my favourite line up, ever.

Daniel is one of the drivers that has been on the grid the longest and he deserves a seat in a front running team. Also, I feel like this would be the perfect team for him. A family atmosphere, people that appreciate him and a team where he isn't automatically second driver (I might he pissed about this but I definitely get why Audi did it. This is not to say that he was always restricted in his driving, he definitely had races where he was great but I feel like being in a team where he isn't seen as second driver or the son of the owner could truly make people realise that he is a talented driver by himself without any relations.) Let's see how well he does when he has to prove himself. l know he might not be the best driver but he for sure is consistent and has some great results. That consistency and experience could really help Mahindra get back on top since this year they were nowhere near the front.

Alex I really want to stay here for next year. He has had amazing qualifyings and I feel like he has also shown his race peace this year. Give him a chance in a good team.

And besides, if there is a team that I will always adore it is Mahindra. The family atmosphere, pure emotions and happiness as wells as passion that they have and that Dillbagh brings to this team is just incredible. And pair that with Daniel's friendly character and Alex's joy when being in FE and you could have to most happy team in the grid.

Mercedes: Stoffel Vandoorne and Nyck De Vries

This might be the other line up I want to keep. Purely because Mercedes is truly becoming more and more competitive and the pace they have is also quite good.

Stoffels win proved this and then Nyck second place further added to this.

And I am so excited to see what Nyck can do as he has had amazing qualifying results and showed that he isn't afraid to make a move. This duo is not only cute and they genuinely get along really well but they could also push each other. And let Stoffel have competitive car.

Nio: Sam Bird and Alex Sims

Listen. I didn't originally want to do this. But then again, this team deserves something. And I think that something could clearly be there if they had this duo. Sam brings the skill, the knowledge that could help them improve and together with Alex I actually think they could help the team get better. Also, I didn't have the heart to let Sam go yet. The more I think about it, this would actually be beneficial to the team. A knowledgeable drivers as well as one that brings patience and the necessary skills for development. I think if a duo could help this team it would be these two. Also? I would really like to see them as team mates? It could totally work out but also not. I think this team needs a total change which both Alex and Sam would be.

Nissan: Oliver Rowland and Sebastian Buemi

This will be the last team I keep like they were.

Why would I change it? Oli and Seb get along so well and truly bring the team forward. Another bonus is that both are really talented and Oli is not afraid to make moves as well as challenge Seb which he is able to because he is really talented and great driver. He is truly an aggressive driver (in a good way) which Nico never was so Seb did not have any that really threatened his position which Oli is able to.

And they both are in the mix for podiums as well as wins (Oli's win this season was incredible and frankly showed why they choose him in the first place.)

Also, I didn't know who else to put in this team next to Oli and I can't see Seb leaving them somehow. He has been with them since season 1 and they have done so much together, so the only instance in which he would leave them would in my opinion to retire which is still way too early. He is one of the best if not the best driver and still as good as ever. The car was lacking but I think that during the break they caught up to the others and will be on their level next year.

Jaguar: Mitch Evans and Sascha Fenestraz

Mitch is pretty obvious. That man has some serious pace and is a competitor through and through. He is also the one that (in my opinion) brought Jaguar to the position they are in right now. Next season (if they have the constant pace to be a challenger) he will for sure be a threat.

And Sascha has had such a good junior career I don't know why he isn't in a higher series. Get this boy a seat somewhere. And where better than the most competitive, hardest and crazy series than FE? I am excited to see what he does in the future and I would love him to get a seat here someday.

Porsche: Pascal Wehrlein and André Lotterer

I mean, who wouldn't want that? And we even got it, hell yeah.

André is really great at Porsche and I think if they develop more, they could for sure be a competitor. From the driver he was at Techeetah, either crashing/being out of the race or getting a podium to the driver he is now, consistently getting points and also good results, he has truly progressed and also understood FE more.

I feel like both of them fit into the Porsche brand (the one I have in my head being drive fast and be pretty) and I am so excited to see the content and racing they will provide next year. Probably the team I am most looking to.

I want Pascal here because since his rookie season he has been impressive but I feel like there was always something lacking (on the cars he drove) and that something could definitely be found here.

Venturi: Edoardo Mortara and Neel Jani

Hear me out everyone. Edo for sure has to stay at Venturi because this is where he belongs. I can't really explain it but I think he perfectly is the lead driver of the team and he has proven again and again that even if the car is not that good, he can perform in it. I don't want to see him anywhere else because I feel like he has a connection to the team (his crying because he couldn't win for them being one example) that will even be stronger if they are more competitive.

As for Neel, I have got to say and the beginning of the season I didn't really care for him and probably wouldn't have given him a place here but the way he just got on it at the end of the season really convinced me otherwise. He was struggling but something just clicked and I think that in his second season he could show that he has understood the racing and pull out some great results. And where else than in Venturi? I think he could benefit from having Edo as a teammate as Edo has a lot of experience and could probably help him become a fuller driver.

Also, I feel like having this driver line up could push Venturi as a whole to become the competitor everyone always thought they were.

[ohoshi]

since Tumblr decided to eat up two of my asks I sent for you, I’m back hoping this reaches to you this time #bringbackmyasktumblr

n e ways , helloooo I’m your personal carat anon and I hope I’m not too annoying. I’m pretty shitty when it comes to coming up with questions so bear with me. I hope we get to know each other <3

First, I love your content alott. Second, I’m pretty sure your bias is hoshi but correct me if I’m wrong. What’s your favourite thing about him? Who’s your bias wrecker?

what is your favourite svt album of all time, like album shuffle to which you can do chores to, go on a drive and sleep to. Your favourite subunit?

What’s your favourite type of content to create ? And a fun fact about you if you’re comfortable sharing !

-cloud anon ☁️💎

hi anon i'm sorry your asks got eaten i imagine it annoyed you :(

first of all you're not annoying!!! and don't feel pressured to ask many (trust me i can talk and ask for both of us) or super fun questions !! it's okay<3 we're all here to have a good time<3 (and you asked more than enough!!)

thank you for loving my content<33 🥰🥰🥰

yeah no you're wrong my bias is wonwoo i am an obvious hoshi simp aren't i!!! ksgskssgakag tbh i ult him for many reasons; and oh boy did you really ask why!!! you might regret that:

first of all he's a main dancer and somehow i always fall for them (since i am a dancer myself there's your fun fact akagajag but tbh i haven't been active in a while :/ life is busy :/ the most i do now is cover kpop choreos) but not only is he a main dancer he also choreograph their dances !!!! which had me so !!!!! 😯😯😯 when i found out about that a while ago

actually lmao i have a funny story you didn't ask for but you're getting anyway at first i didn't like him akgsjag he seemed annoying (lol i was right) </3 aso i was kinda.... judgy.... and my friend said oh he choreographs their dances and my jaw dropped A 14 YO CHOREOS THEIR DANCES!!!! (he looked younger than me) and she was like noo he's a 96 liner; 😯😯 he's bap's zelo's age no way!!! and yeah!!! i didn't bias him at first, he was always in my bias wrecker line but i was always fighting him (is it just me or do you also fight your bias wreckers not ever letting them become your bias!!! like no cora you will not bias hoshi!!! but i like him so much :( NO YOU WON'T!!!! OR ARE YOU NORMAL LOL) and i think around gda this year i let him defeat me and become my bias and i've been living my best life ever since <33

and so i have mad respect for choreographers!!! that's one of the reasons too!!! i think he's so talented and it's not talked about enough (kpop fans seem to sleep on seventeen in my opinion if you know what i mean? like no one seems to acknowledge how great for example main vocalists of svt are? but that's all pledis' fault for being incapable of promoting their idols) when he dances i feel like i'm watching the purest form of art (am i corny? absolutely)

his voice!!! i really like his singing voice :((((( he's so much fun like there's always something happening around him, i can never forget he exists for longer than a few hours?????? idk i like his chaos :/ ALSO!!!!!! THE ONE THING HE HAS BUT MOST IDOLS DON'T!!!!!! he's a shawol. we both are. i just love that so much about him lol i fangirl twice as hard whenever he mentions shinee or is with key or smth shagskgaskgsksgsjs

i lvoe these little things i could talk about for 20 pages but let's stop here, yeah????

my bias wreckers are junhao and dk!!!! but in reality it's #1 hoshi #2 everyone else, i really like all of these boys a lot yk

my favorite album is al1! nothing tops al1 for me, i liked the way it was promoted, i loved every single song on that album, i liked the aesthetics, i liked every single choreo SOOOO MUCH KSGSKSSH i could also talk about why dwc is so good on 20 pages but let's not<3 and since you mentioned an album i can do chores to kagakag i have to be honest lately i've been doing laundry while listening to love&letter rpkg sjagaj it's been my routine for some time now but!! what about you!!!!!! what is your favorite album???? TOP 3 BSIDES!!!! what are your favorite bsides?? also what are your thoughts on your choice??

my favorite subunit is performance for many obvious reasons!! (dancers, bias + bias wreckers + annoying little bro<3)

my favorite content to create is gifs i just like that the most, or i enjoy making gifs the most jsgsja i also like making gfx but i feel like you need to be more artsy for that and i am just.... not that person 😬 what about you!! are you a content creator? what type of content do you make?

who are your biases?? and how/when did you get into svt?

[lori-hime]

I haven't written much about what I've been up to lately, so here's some word salad updates~ 🥗

NijiGaku Anime

So I started watching the new LL. I hadn't been keeping up with SIFAS' story, but I did read some of it when it first came out. I gotta say, I'm really enjoying all of the changes they decided to make for the anime version of the story, to both the characters and story. It's starting to feel like something coherent. The story in the game was ok, but the main thing that interested me was the interactions with Muse and Aqours, overshadowing the actual "plot" and even Nijigasaki themselves. But the anime really made me interested and excited about the story and characters again. I would be a little annoyed about the personality and dynamic changes, but honestly, I'm used to it by now. LL always ends up doing this sort of thing, and the personalities only seem to become solidified after the anime airs.

A little disappointed in Kasumi's change in some vague ways I don't really feel like describing, but honestly it balances out because Ayumu is fantastic now (previously one of my least cared for of the group.) Yu's personality is surprisingly super gay fun and I'm really excited for her and Ayumu's dynamic in particular. They're so cute. Seriously feel like I'm gonna ship them hard.

I also really like Rina's initial personality in this. Not only is she bad at expressing emotions through her face, but she also seems bad at expressing them through words too. I feel like this is gonna be much more interesting than her already being cutesy and genki like in the promo stuff and SIFAS.

When Karin was first shown, I had mixed feelings. At first I was like oh god I'm gay and she's beautiful. But the whole sexuality flaunting thing kind of put me off for several reasons I don't really wanna get into explaining. I really didn't know how to feel. I started liking her a little more during SIFAS, when she competed against Muse in DDR and lost... started feeling like I was getting a glimpse of her real personality without the whole sexy idol persona. Although not much has happened in the anime with her yet, she's giving me Nozomi vibes and I love it. I actually think if I had gone into this without previous knowledge of the characters, I'd be betting she'd become my fave for sure.

My list has gone from Kasumi > Rina > Kanata / Emma > Karin > Ai > Setsuna > Ayumu > Shizuku to Yuu > Ayumu > Kasumi / Karin > Rina > Kanata / Emma > Ai > Setsuna > Shizuku

Still biased a bit towards characters that have shown up more in the first two eps, so it'll undoubtedly change. But It's really interesting how much the characters I already felt I had good placements for changed so much.

Edit for episode 3, because I didn't post this fast enough. Student council speedrun was fantastic. Yu continues to be incredibly gay. I wonder how this episode will affect the ships people will gravitate towards. LL has always been a fairly monoship fandom, heavily gravitating towards specific pairs. Of course that's largely the fault of canon itself, often pushing and developing single ships. Well, I suppose we saw a big change with Aqours, though, especially with season two. But even then, the ships tended to stay at least between girls of the same year (aside from my rarepair, shout-out to YohaRiko.) Now, I wonder. From the very beginning, before Yu even had a name, it felt like they were really pushing the shippy stuff @ the viewer. I wonder if that’s still gonna be the angle. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it yet. I really want to see more YuAyu rather than YuSetsu, but I can't really be mad at more gay content unless they try to make it a DEEP story and then fail to resolve it but haha they'd NEVER do that, I'm sure!!

As for the others... I'm guessing they're gonna push RinAi, KarinEmma, YuuKasu, and maybe YuuShizu? My original guesses were that AiKarin would be a thing, evoking NozoEli v3. But I guess that'd be too predictable a third time. KarinEmma sounds like it could be cute and sweet, RinAi feels like it has adorable potential, and YuKasu vs. YuAyu sounds like it could have some good comedic rival-y potential, given they don't make Kasumi super serious about it and make it really angsty. Not that a cute idol show would ever do such a thing haha!!!!!

Higurashi Gou

Also started Higurashi. I doubt many people know this, but I used to be a major Higurashi fan before I got into Touhou. It was my main "fandom" I guess, even though there wasn't really that much of a fandom to interact with comparatively. Anyway, despite that, I didn't think I'd get into this remake super hard... but I'm really loving it so far. The art style is really pretty and eye candy, and it turns out it's a direct continuation of the story rather than a remake. Very excited to see where it's going, and also to see a lot of my baby Rena again.

An interesting difference to me as I'm rewatching are my feelings for Keiichi. While I don't hate him, over the years I've really grown tired of the generic male leads (especially in harem anime) like him. Of course, he's definitely not AS generic as they come, or maybe perhaps that's just my bias from when I used to really like him. The me back then found him unique enough to stand beside the girls. Nowadays, I definitely can't say the same. At least he doesn't grate on my nerves as much as most other harem anime protags do, however. I feel like despite lacking the quirks that make the girls so likeable and unique, he still has something going for him... perhaps the fact he's framed as inherently different from everyone else, because he comes from the city, and the way he acts a bit more realistically to the scary things that are happening. Although those things are obviously explained away later, at least for now I still accept him for what he is, old bias or not.

Genshin Impact

Been playing Genshin Impact religiously and loved every second of it. Though I've caught up with the main story content, so sadly it's slowed down. I'd never heard of this game before it came out, so I was absolutely wowed that such a game was f2p. I've heard a lot of people criticizing it because they added gacha in at the last minute, and I definitely understand being annoyed through the pov of someone who was anticipating it. But part of me is still really thankful that the game is free at all. I suppose that full but paid 60 dollar game would still be a better experience, but because of my non-existent budget situation, I may not have ended up playing it at all.

Aside from the arguably shitty monetization practices, however, the game is fantastic. It really is as similar to BoTW as people have mentioned, and I really appreciate that. BoTW, from a gameplay standpoint, is absolutely my favorite game. It's exactly what I want from any given game. So I really appreciated this. The story and characters of Genshin are also really interesting. I really like Qiqi, Venti, Fischl, and Xingqiu, among others. I spent a while rerolling for Qiqi or Venti 5*s, and eventually got an account with Qiqi. Venti on the other hand I've been trying to roll for but sadly haven't gotten. I have 1 roll left before the banner ends, so hopefully.. My friends whaled him for me. I swear I tried to stop them! I owe them my soul...

HoloLive, Pikamee & Vtubing

I briefly started getting into HoloLive a little while ago. After the Aloe stuff, I started worrying a bit about how the company handles these situations as well as the girls' freedoms and how much of their donation money they actually get.. (I made a post about it a while back.) After a while my worries died down a bit, but then came back full force with the Coco and Haachama situation. After that and one too many uncomfortable sexual jokes, I decided to just distance myself from HL. It's a shame, because I really enjoyed their personalities, but it was making me feel uncomfortable more often than not.

I told myself it’s fine, I’ve got Pikamee if I ever feel like watching vtubers again. And then like a week later... Well, it’s not really something I wanna talk about here, but she made some posts on twitter that made me too uncomfortable to continue watching her either.

On a much lighter note... A friend of mine showed us how to use prprlive and facerig to use the Touhou CB Live2D models, and Asa and I played around with Mokou, Kaguya, and Lyrica’s. It was quite fun, and I do look forward to using the Kaguya one for private streams on one of my servers. I’ve actually always wanted to try out vtubing stuff myself, but not really publicly. Of course, the costs for getting a model drawn and made specifically for me are too much for something I’m not really committing to, so this is perfect. I’m excited~

Touhou Cannonball & Kagura Thoughts

It’s been a long time since I talked about Touhou CB on my blog, and I’m pretty sure I left things on a pretty bad note. Mainly dissatisfied with Mokou’s portrayal for pretty shallow reasons on my part, despite they game having just started and having a lot of room to grow. And grow it did. While I quit pretty early in because of that, Asa decided to take over my account. She realized that it was pretty easy to upgrade any given character you had to a 5* without having to rely much on the gacha. She ended up playing a lot with the goal of upgrading everyone we had. I came back to it around July and actually had a lot of fun with it. The cast had gotten much bigger and we really enjoyed playing on multiplayer. It wasn't the best game ever from a gameplay standpoint, but it definitely had it's charm. The announcement of its death, although unsurprising, came at the worst time. Asa and I actually cried a little when we saw the announcement, ngl. The game had such good, wholesome, Touhouy vibes to it. Nonetheless, we made the most out of the last month or so after the announcement. We played a LOT of multiplayer and had a lot of really cute and good interactions with other players. Near the end, we realized that Lyrica was the only character from the normal banner we were missing, so we grinded like crazy (mostly Asa) to try to get her... we ended up getting a number of 5*s but none Lyrica... she eluded us to the very end. It was quite sad, but how hard we worked for it still felt satisfying somehow. We were able to max out our multiplayer level and complete a ton of goals we wouldn’t have otherwise.

So after this bittersweet experience with Touhou gacha, and all the scummy things I've been hearing about Lost Word, I've been thinking like... I'm done with Touhou gacha, at least for now. Don't wanna hear anything else about it for a good while. And then the 25th anniversary hits and they announce Kagura. Ugh. Please, give me a break. Needless to say, I'm gonna have to give it a try. Touhou is my life, I love rhythm games, I love Touhou music, and I love character collecting games. And I've been waiting for something to replace SIF gameplay in my heart for a long time. I'd banked my hopes on SIFAS but it's really barely a rhythm game so.... at least now that I've gone through CB's death and seen how cruddy LW is, I'll have lower standards and not get my hopes up too high.

If you got this far, thanks for reading my rambles and have a good day~

[quentinblack]

The Squib

Featuring: Gawain Robards & Walden Macnair (with Harry Potter, Rhea Savage and Femi Wakanda)

Warnings: Swearing, Mature content

Link to full story on FF.net

Walden Macnair looked absolutely terrible. He was about as broken a man as a man could be. The Death Eater sat, if you could call what his broken back was allowing him to do sitting, in a hastily erected bean bag on the marble floor of the interrogation room.

The bean bag had been the only thing that Macnair had been able to sit in or on without screaming in agony for the best part of a week - and judging by the look on his face he was now about as broken mentally as he was physically.

An eager looking Gawain Robards sat opposite him in a fairly comfortable looking oak and leather chair. The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement aimlessly fiddled with his quill as he studied the notes in the pieces of parchment on the table in-front of him.

Robards was the only one who was on the interrogation side of the chamber with Macnair. Harry, along with Rhea Savage and Femi Wakanda, the pair of whom had spent the most amount of time interrogating the Death Eater in the last fortnight, were behind the charm-field section on the other side of the room.

The charm-field, which Harry had discovered was a quintessential feature of almost all interrogation chambers, allowed for other Ministry agents to watch an interrogation without the suspect being able to see or hear their presence.

They were actually very reminiscent of the sort of glass-mirrored screens that Harry had once seen on old repeats of ‘The Bill’, a police-detective program which regularly aired on the muggle television. He had often watched that and another similar detective show called ‘A Touch of Frost’ on the few occasions that the Dursley’s had gone out for the day and left him to his own devices.

A common theme of those sorts of programmes was the “good cop, bad cop” routine, where one detective would aggressively interrogate the suspect, whilst the other would be somewhat kinder. Harry was not quite sure on the exact phycology of this method, but it seemed to work for the fictional police officers.

It was fairly safe to say that Gawain Robards liked to take an altogether different approach to his questioning.

His approach was less “good cop, bad cop” and more just plain old “bad cop, bad cop”.  

“I always thought you did lack a spine, Walden,” Robards said sarcastically. “Life imitating art I suppose,” he added with a smile, enjoying his own witty remark considerably more than anybody else watching on had seemed to.

Macnair said nothing. He merely glared at Robards with an intense look of fury and pain on his scarred and slightly wrinkled face.

“I’m sure that Savage and Wakanda have already informed you of the considerable case The Ministry has against you, Walden. The charges that landed you into Azkaban several years ago in the first place were not too pretty, but since then you broke out of prison, continuously colluded with The Dark Lord, played a crucial role in the illegal international transportation of many murderous giants and of course, most notably, are the prime suspect in the murder of Broderick Bode. Do you have anything to say in your defence?”

“No comment,” Macnair spat.

Robards grinned nonchalantly.

“As I have said, the charges levelled against you, much like the state of your back, are not pretty. However, any cooperation on your part that may lead to the arrest of one of your comrades will of course be heavily considered when you are sentenced.”

Macnair rolled his eyes in disgust.

“You want me to betray my friends like some kind of traitor…and for what? A couple of years shaved off of a life sentence?! I’m not fucking stupid, Gawain. I know that I don’t know enough to receive a get out of jail free card like some of the others might. Sure, I could sell out Selwyn to you, but you won’t drop all of the charges against me even if you did manage to make an arrest. I’d sooner take my chances on him and the others that got away doing some damage and breaking us all out of here.”

Robards sighed heavily.

“You really think that a handful of stragglers are gonna manage to do some damage to us and break you all out?!” he asked in an incredulous manner.

“I don’t see why not! You would be incredibly naïve to write them off,” Macnair snapped back defiantly. “Judging by how emotional your little bitch has been in the last few days… I expect they already have done some damage!”

Savage swore under her breath next to Harry, as Wakanda, who towered over the both of them in her leather heeled boots groaned.

“I warned you, Savage. I told you that you were emotionally compromised. You should have listened to me when I-

Savage loudly shushed Wakanda as Robards began to speak once more.

“You know, Macnair. I think you’re the one who is being incredibly naïve,” Robards said. “You talk about bargaining to get a couple of years off of your life sentence… I don’t recall saying anything about a life sentence. The act of murdering an unspeakable is a crime that has historically carried only one possible sentence… and it is not life, but death.”

Macnair eyed Robards with a slight sense of caution, but Harry observed that he did not truly yet seem to believe what Gawain was suggesting.

“You won’t execute any of us,” Macnair attested in an arrogant tone. “The Ministry hasn’t executed anyone in decades. Barty Crouch liked to make out that he was tough on crime at the end of the last war, but even that silly old shit never sentenced Dolohov, Black or the Lestranges to death… and they committed the worst crimes of all.”

Savage stole a glance at Harry when Macnair mentioned Sirius.

It had been just three days prior, on the same day that Hagrid had received a pardon of his own that Kingsley had also posthumously cleared Sirius of all charges against him.

Harry was very glad indeed that Barty Crouch had never sentenced Sirius to death, for if he had then Harry would’ve never even met his Godfather for the fleeting few years that he did.

Robards glared at Macnair with something between contempt and pity in his eyes.

“Do you know why Dolohov, Black and the Lestrange trio were never sentenced to death for their despicable crimes?” Robards asked in an irritated tone.

“Everyone knows why,” Macnair replied confidently. “Barty Crouch believed that a life-time of the Dementors was a much harsher sentence than a killing curse, although I guess he never banked on The Dark Lord returning to power and setting everyone free.”

Robards chuckled to himself and violently shook his head at Macnair.

“The only thing he never banked on was his son falling in with The Dark Lord. Allow me to let you in on an age-old Ministry secret, Macnair. Barty Crouch was full of shit. He never believed any of that bollocks about life sentences being the harshest sentence once could suffer, although I’m sure he said it enough times that even he might have believed it in the end.”

Robards rose to his feet and wandered over towards a fearful looking Macnair, who could do nothing but look up at the head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement as he towered over him.

“Dolohov and Black were never meant to have life sentences. They were both in line for the death penalty – and they would’ve gotten it too, if Barty’s own bloody son hadn’t have winded up getting caught torturing the Longbottoms with the Lestranges. That left old Barty with quite the predicament. He couldn’t execute Dolohov, Black and the Lestranges but spare his son – the cries of bias would’ve finished his career. But he couldn’t execute his son either, as that would’ve finished his marriage. So we got the compromise option. It all worked out very well for The Dark Lord and his cronies, probably the only reason why you recruited the useless little fucker in the first place!”

Macnair said nothing. He re-positioned himself slightly, trying not to make eye contact with Robards and swearing under his breath in pain as he did so.

Harry trembled slightly at his new-found knowledge that Sirius may been sentenced to death if not for Barty Crouch Jr’s turn to the dark side. It was hardly a glowing endorsement of capital punishment.

“The mood of the public is one of finality, Macnair. They want some closure. They want some justice – and unlike Barty Crouch, as you well know, I do not have a child in the docks awaiting sentencing-

“You don’t have a child full-stop,” Macnair spat.

“Oh, Merlin,” Wakanda sighed under her breath, as Savage swore violently.

An enraged Gawain Robards instantly pelted the defenceless Macnair square in the head. The connection of his shoe to the Death Eater’s nose saw it break on impact, making a loud crunch and crack in the process.

Blood began to trickle down Macnair’s face and onto the cream coloured bean-bag, as he cried out in pain at the abrasive movement this had caused his injured neck and back.

Harry looked on in utter bewilderment at what had just happened, as Wakanda exhaled loudly.

Savage turned to him with a saddened look awash her pale face.

“Gawain’s daughter,” she whispered. “She… she died when she was only seven years old… dragon pox.”

Harry suddenly understood Robards’ extreme reaction and wondered if Macnair had known, judging by the look on Savage’s face he assumed that he probably had.

Robards began to pace frantically in-front of Macnair, as Wakanda eyed her boss with great caution and concern, perhaps fearing any further retaliation, although he seemed to have calmed down a little.

“You know actually Walden, I’m glad that you want to talk about family,” Robards said with an evil looking grin. “Savage and Wakanda took the liberty of informing me last week that you didn’t actually want to speak to or see any of your family at all. I must confess, given your reputation years ago at the Ministry as a devoted family man, I considered this development to be, well, strange.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Macnair replied, to which Robards grinned with glee.

“I’m sure you remember your wife used to be quite close to mine once upon a time, so naturally I felt given the circumstances it would be my duty of care to reach out to Cara and make sure-

“You shut your filthy mouth, Gawain! Don’t you dare talk to my fuckin-

Robards motioned to punt Macnair in the head once more, but he had only pretended, which nonetheless still caused Macnair significant pain as he had flinched when reacting to the expectant kick.

Macnair tried to spit at Robards, but due to his hunched posture he succeeded only in spitting on himself.

“Oh, but I did dare to talk to her, Walden!” Robards jibed. “And I’m very glad that I did. Cara was most forthcoming about the issues in your broken marriage… and it all seemed to stem back to one thing…

“Don’t you fucking-

“The Squib daughter of a Death Eater,” Gawain mocked triumphantly, as Macnair looked shattered at Robards having discovered this revelation.

Harry noticed that there was a different kind of pain on the Death Eater’s face at this divulgence though. It was not one of discomfort or anger, but rather, for the first time Harry saw vulnerability in Walden Macnair’s eyes.

“The way Cara tells it, most of the blame falls at your feet, Walden. She thinks that little Niamh was so embarrassed when her Father got sent to Azkaban for being a Death Eater that she started repressing her magical abilities, so much so that she never actually has shown any magical abilities.”

Macnair, defeated, said nothing at this point. Harry watched the blood trickle down the pathetic looking man’s nose. He was no longer even bothering to wipe it on the dirty sleeve of his jumper like he had been previously.

“What was your plan if You Know Who wasn’t defeated, Walden? Wouldn’t it look a bit suspicious when your daughter didn’t get a Hogwarts letter this year?” he asked, more rhetorically than literally.

Harry felt his boss was perhaps pushing too far now, but either Robards didn’t sense Macnair’s agony or did and was merely trying to use it to his advantage.

Gawain now retrieved a piece of parchment from his desk and unravelled it.

“Do you know what this is, Walden?” Robards grilled, as he flashed the piece of parchment in-front of the captive.

Macnair remained silent.

“I’ll tell you what this is… written by Dolores Umbridge no less… this… this is what The Ministry’s official policy on Squibs was under your exalted leader’s control… and I quote…” he began, taking an exaggerated deep breath, which seemed more for show than any sort of respiratory benefit.

“The Ministry of Magic defines a Squib as a person whom is born with the assumption of possessing magical blood, yet possesses either extremely limited magical abilities, or indeed, is entirely devoid of any magical ability whatsoever. The primary cause of the birthing of Squibs is believed to be caused by the Mother fornicating, whether wilfully or against her will, with either muggles or mud-bloods - it is also a possibility that the Father may have falsified their own family history, thereby concealing their un-pure blood from the pure-blood witch who birthed the defected child. Either of these crimes, whereby a deformity such as a Squib is created, are punishable to the guilty party only by the Dementor’s Kiss.”

Macnair did not look up at Robards, instead much preferring to look at the floor, perhaps in the desperate hope that it would open up and swallow him whole.

“Alternatively, in cases where Squibs have previously shown some kind of magical ability at a younger age, but have since lost the ability, it is believed that their magic was stolen from them. There are many mud-bloods that defy the conventions of logic and biology by possessing magical abilities without magical blood – and this fairly modern phenomenon is believed to be caused by the mud-blood stealing magic from magic-users, i.e – Squibs. It is thought that the most common method of magical theft is achieved through fornicating, but research has also shown that a muggle may achieve the theft of magic by stealing the blood of a witch or wizard. The crime of allowing a muggle to steal one’s magical blood, even if the muggle somehow achieved this by force, is a crime that is once again punishable only by the Dementor’s Kiss.”

Robards finished reading and discarded the parchment onto the floor in-front of Macnair.

“You’re clinging onto an ideology that would’ve seen your only child suffer a fate worse than death, Walden!” he shouted incredulously.

Macnair looked considerably defeated at this point, but did not seem to be rising to Robards’ bait.

“You refuse to sell-out Selwyn and Travers and Co, but would they have stood in your corner when The Dark Lord came to take Niamh away and give her to the Dementors?” Robards asked in a disgusted sounding tone.

Macnair tried his best to hide it, but he had become increasingly uncomfortable and significantly more distressed since Robards began talking about his estranged daughter. He had flinched momentarily at the mere mention of her name again. Harry was not sure if Robards, Savage or Wakanda had spotted it, but he certainly had.

Robards continued probing and taunting Macnair for a further fifteen minutes, but no matter what was said to him he failed to take the bait and showed absolutely no intention of co-operating.

The only time his eyes ever truly showed signs of fight or life where when Robards mentioned his daughter, but Harry supposed that there was nothing they had to tempt Macnair to sell-out Selwyn or any of the others.

Robards was offering Macnair the chance to avoid being sentenced to death and merely see out a life sentence instead, but the Death Eater had previously assumed he was seeing out a life sentence anyway, so this must have barely seemed like an upgrade to him – perhaps the prospect of a quick exit even somewhat appealed to him in his broken state.

What they really needed to get Macnair to talk was something to truly tempt him.

“He’s a lost cause,” Wakanda commented to Savage and Harry after Robards had been at him for another quarter of an hour after that.

“If he was going to talk then he would have by now. I thought the reminder of his daughter might push him to it, but it looks like the prospect of dying and never seeing her grow up isn’t even enough for the sicko.”

“He does care about her,” Savage quipped back in a knowing fashion. It seemed Harry had not been alone in noticing Macnair’s body language when his daughter was mentioned.

“But she’ll grow up to be a Squib,” the Head Auror continued. “She’ll be an outcast and he knows both his daughter and his wife will always blame him for it… maybe he’d rather die than live with himself knowing he caused that.”

“Perhaps,” Wakanda conceded in an irritated tone, as the three of them watched on as a slightly exasperated looking Robards continued to interrogate him. “But all the same… if he won’t talk, he won’t talk.”

“What if we gave him a reason to talk,” Harry said, as an incredibly bold idea suddenly popped into his head.

“I’m all ears, Potter,” Savage replied. “What would you suggest?” she asked, as Wakanda eyed Harry with a slight look of bewilderment.

“Well the thing that is upsetting him the most is that his daughter will grow up to be an outcast and hate him, right?”

“Right,” Wakanda and Savage replied almost in unison, surprising themselves in doing so.  

“What if she didn’t have to be an outcast?”

“But she’s a Squib… how could she not be an outcast?” Wakanda replied, not cottoning on to what Harry had been suggesting at all.

Savage eyed him very carefully, perhaps pondering what she thought he may be implying.

“But don’t you see?” Harry began. “That legislation that Robards read out earlier about Squibs. They weren’t treated that badly before Voldemort was in power…”

Harry paused briefly as Savage and especially Wakanda reacted wildly to Harry so openly and boldly using Voldemort’s name. He forgot that people reacted that way to it and he thought it seemed especially silly since he was now long dead.

“… but even in civilised wizarding society they seem to be largely outcasts,” Harry continued. “I think the one thing that would make Macnair talk and lead us to Selwyn and the others is if he knew by talking he could stop his daughter from becoming an outcast.”

“But again, Potter, what exactly are you proposing we do? Send an owl to Minerva McGonagall and ask her to send an acceptance letter to Macnair’s Squib daughter if he talks?!” Wakanda asked in a condescending manner.

Harry did not reply instantly, but Savage again eyed him up cautiously.

“I think that’s exactly what he’s proposing,” Rhea said carefully, as she appeared to begin to contemplate the idea.

Wakanda looked mortified.

“But - but you can’t be serious,” the mature witch began.  “The implications – the mere idea of a Squib attend-

“Robards said that her Mother believes she repressed her magical abilities,” Harry interrupted. “If she was put in an environment with other children and felt confident and accepted for who she was then she might even develop some magical abilities.”

“And if she didn’t?!” Wakanda interrogated.

Harry’s mind darted into action as he tried to think on his feet and justify his reasoning to the older witch.

“Well, you don’t use magic in every subject at Hogwarts,” he mustered. “Potions… Herbology, erm…

“Divination,” Savage added. “Astronomy and History of Magic too, I guess even Care of Magical Creatures and…

“Arithmancy and Ancient Runes… oh and Muggle Studies too,” Harry quickly interspersed.

“You can’t seriously be entertaining this idea, Rhea,” Wakanda mocked.

“Do you have any better ideas?!” she snapped back. “This is all hypothetical regardless. There’s no guarantee that Macnair would talk even if we offered this to him, but yes, I think it’s certainly an avenue worth exploring.”

Wakanda tutted and then sighed dismissively.

“Good luck selling this idea to Gawain,” she snickered.

“Gawain won’t be a problem,” Savage replied confidently. “It’s Minerva McGonagall that I’m worried about.”

Savage smiled and then suddenly slapped Harry on the back affectionately.

“It’s a good thing we’ve got Potter here for that one,” she grinned, as she stared thoughtfully at Macnair through the charm-field.