#sunday suspense new

[zvaigzdelasas]

With immediate effect, the Republic of Niger under the leadership of General Abdourahamane Tchiani, and supported by the people of the Republic, announced the suspension of the export of uranium and gold to France on Sunday. In parallel to the decision, protestors were surrounding the French Embassy in Niger calling for the end of French colonial practices repeating the slogan “Down with France!” and reaffirming their support to the coup leader, Tchiani. Wazobia Reporters, a Nigeri[a]n news website, reported on protestor proclaiming “We have uranium, diamonds, gold, oil, and we live like slaves? We don’t need the French to keep us safe." Simultaneously the Nigerien coup leader has faced condemnations and threats from African governments that maintain ties with the European linked institutions such as the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) and the EU as well as the African Union. In that regard, Tchiani said, "We want to once more remind ECOWAS or any other adventurer of our firm determination to defend our homeland.”[...]

Currently, uranium production in Niger occurs mostly through a French majority-owned company called Orano which owns 63.4% of Société des Mines de l’Aïr (SOMAÏR). The remaining 36.66% of this is owned by Niger's Société du Patrimoine des Mines du Niger, known as Sopamin. In 2021, the European Union utilities purchased 2905 tU of Niger-produced uranium making Niger the leading uranium supplier vis-a-vis the EU.

31 Jul 23

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Keeping a suspense file gives you superpowers

I'll be in TUCSON, AZ from November 8-10: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

Two decades ago, I was part of a group of nerds who got really interested in how each other managed to do what we did. The effort was kicked off by Danny O'Brien, who called it "Lifehacking" and I played a small role in getting that term popularized:

https://craphound.com/lifehacksetcon04.txt

While we were all devoted to sharing tips and tricks from our own lives, many of us converged on an outside expert, David Allen, and his bestselling book "Getting Things Done" (GTD, to those in the know):

https://gettingthingsdone.com/

GTD is a collection of relatively simple tactics for coping with, prioritizing, and organizing the things you want to do. Many of the methods relate to organizing your own projects, using a handful of context-based to-do lists (e.g. a list of things to do at the office, at home, while waiting in line, etc). These lists consist of simple tasks. Those tasks are, in turn, derived from another list, of "projects" – things that require more than one task, which can be anything from planning dinner to writing a novel to helping your kid apply to university.

The point of all this list-making isn't to do everything on the lists. While these lists do help you remember what to do next, what they're really good for is deciding what not to do – at all. The promise of GTD is that it will help you consciously choose not to do some of the things you set out to accomplish. This is in contrast to how most of us operate: we have a bunch of things we want to do, and we end up doing the things that are easiest, or at top of mind, even if they're not the most important things.

GTD recognizes that you can be very "productive" (in the sense of getting many things done) and still not do the things that you really wanted to do. You know what this is like: you finish a Sunday with an organized sock-drawer, all your pennies neatly rolled, the trash-can in your car emptied…and no work at all on that novel you're hoping to write.

You can't do everything, but you can control what you don't do, rather than just defaulting into completing a string of trivial, meaningless tasks and leaving the big stuff on the sidelines. Organizing your own tasks and projects is a hugely powerful habit, and one that's made a world of difference to my personal and professional life.

But while good to-do lists can take you very far in life, they have a hard limit: other people. Almost every ambitious thing you want to do involves someone else's contribution. Even the most solitary of projects can be derailed if your tax accountant misses a key email and you end up getting audited or paying a huge penalty.

That's where the other kind of GTD list comes in: the list of things you're waiting for from other people. I used to be assiduous in maintaining this list, but then the pandemic struck and no one was meeting any of their commitments, and I just gave up on it, and never went back…until about a month ago. Returning to these lists (they're sometimes called "suspense files") made me realize how many of the problems – some hugely consequential – in my life could have been avoided if I'd just gone back to this habit earlier.

My suspense file is literally just some lines partway down a text file that lives on my desktop called todo.txt that has all my to-dos as well. Here's some sample entries from my suspense file:

WAITING EMAIL Sean about ENSHITTIIFCATION manuscript deadline 10/24/24 WAITING EMAIL Russ about missing royalty statement 10/12/24 WAITING EMAIL Alice about Christmas vacation hotel 10/8/24 10/20/24 WAITING EMAIL Ted about Sacramento event 8/12/24 9/5/24 10/5/24 10/20/24

WAITING CALL LA County about mosquito abatement 10/25/24 WAITING CALL School attendance officer about London trip 10/18/24

WAITING MONEY EFF reimbusement for taxi to staff retreat $34.98 10/7/24

WAITING SHIPMENT New Neal Stephenson novel from Bookshop.org 10/23/24

This is as simple as things could possibly be! I literally just type "WAITING," then a space, then the category of thing I'm waiting for, then a few specifics, then the date. When I follow up on an item, I add the date of the followup to the end of the line. If I get some details that I might need to reference later (say, a tracking code for a shipment, or a date for an event I'm trying to organize), I'll add that, too, as it comes up. Creating a new entry on this list takes 10-25 seconds. When someone gets back to me, I just delete that line.

That is literally it.

Every day, or sometimes a couple of times a day, I will just run my eyes up and down this list and see if there's anything that's unreasonably overdue, and then I'll send a reminder or make a followup call. In the example above, you can see that I've been chasing Ted about Sacramento for months now (this is a fake entry – no plans to go to Sacto at the moment, sorry):

WAITING EMAIL Ted about Sacramento event 8/12/24 9/5/24 10/5/24 10/20/24

So now I've emailed Ted four times. Maybe my email's going to his spam, and so I could try emailing a friend of Ted and ask them to check whether he's getting my messages. But maybe Ted's trying to send me a message here – he's just not interested in doing the event after all. Or maybe Ted is available, but he's so snowed under that he's in danger of fumbling it, and I need to bring in some help if I want it to happen.

All of these are possibilities, and the fact that I'm tracking this means that I now get to make an active decision: cancel the gig or double down on making sure it happens. Without this list, the gig would just die by default, forgotten by both of us. Maybe that's OK, but I can't tell you how many times I've run into someone who said, "Dammit, I just remembered I was supposed to email you about getting that thing done and I dropped the ball. Shit! I really was looking forward to that. Is it too late now?" Often it is too late. Even if it's not, the work of picking up the pieces and starting over is much more than just following through on the original plan.

Restarting my suspense file made me realize how many of the (often expensive or painful) fumbles I've had since the pandemic were the result of me not noticing that someone else hadn't gotten back to me. In essence, a suspense file is a way for me to manage other people's to-do lists.

Let me unpack that. By "managing other people's to-do lists," I don't mean that I'm deciding for other people what they will and won't do (that would be both weird and gross). I mean that I'm making sure that if someone else fails to do something we were planning together, it's because they decided not to do it, not because they forgot. As GTD teaches us, the real point of a to-do list isn't just helping us remember what to do – it's helping us choose what we're not going to do.

This is not an imposition, it's a kindness. The point of a suspense file isn't to nag others into living up to their commitments, it's to form a network of support among collaborators where we all help one another make those conscious choices about what we're not going to do, rather than having the stuff we really value slip away because we forgot about it.

I have frequent collaborators whom I know to be incapable of juggling too many things at once, and my suspense file has helped me hone my sense of when it would be appropriate to ask them if they want to do something together and when to leave them be. The suspense file helps me dial in how much I rely on each person in my life (relying on someone isn't the same as valuing them – and indeed, one way to value someone is to only rely on them for things they're able to do, rather than putting them in a position of feeling bad for failing you).

Lifehacking gets a bad rap, and justifiably so. Many of the tips that traffick as "lifehacks" are trivial or stupid or both. What's more, too much lifehacking can paint you into a corner where you've hacked any flexibility out of your life:

https://locusmag.com/2017/11/cory-doctorow-how-to-do-everything-lifehacking-considered-harmful/

But ever since Danny coined the term "lifehack," back in 2004, I've been cultivating daily habits that have let me live the life I wanted to live, accomplishing the things I wanted to accomplish. I figured out how to turn daily writing into a habit and now I've written more than 30 books:

https://www.locusmag.com/Features/2009/01/cory-doctorow-writing-in-age-of.html

A daily habit of opening a huge, ever-tweaked collection of tabs has made me smarter about the news, helped me keep tabs on my friends, helped me find fraudsters who were trying to steal my identity, and ensured that all those Kickstarter rewards and other long-delayed, erratic shipments didn't slip through the cracks:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/25/today-in-tabs/#unfucked-rota

Daily habits are superpowers. Once something is a habit, you get it for free. GTD turns on decomposing big, daunting projects into bite-sized, trackable tasks. I have a bunch of spaces around the house – my office, my closet, the junk sheds down the side of the house, our tiki bar – that I used to clean out once or twice a year. Each one was all-day, sweaty, dirty job, and for most of the year, all of those spaces were a dusty, disorganized mess.

A month ago, I added a new daily task: spend five minutes cleaning one space. I did the bar first, and after two weeks, I'd taken down every tchotchke and bottle and polished it, reorganizing the undercounter spaces where things pile up:

https://www.flickr.com/search/?user_id=37996580417%40N01&sort=date-taken-desc&text=tiki+bar&view_all=1

Now I'm working through my office. Ever day, I'm dusting a bookshelf and combing through it for discards to stick in our Little Free Library. Takes less than five minutes most day, and I'll be done in about three weeks, when I'll move on to my closet, then the side of the house, and then back to the bar. A daily short break where I get away from my computer and make my living and working environments nicer is a wonderful habit to cultivate.

I'm 53 years old now. I was 33 when I started following Getting Things Done. In that time, I've gotten a lot done, but what's even more relevant is that I didn't get a ton of things done – things that I consciously chose not to abandon. Figuring out what you want to do, and then keeping it on track – in manageable, healthy, daily rhythms that bring along the other people you rely on – may not be the whole secret to a fulfilled life, but it's certainly a part of it.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo.txt

[jymwahuwu]

Interactive Story:

If you transformed into a bird and were discovered by Sunday

cw: birdcage description, yandere not mentioned in this chapter but possible in the future. please read with caution.

reader setting: You and Sunday have always been political enemies and rivals. You argue with each other in The Family meetings.

previous part

→ "try to become human again"

Like a rising thermometer, anger, anger, anger- the red liquid inside you is boiling, occupying, desperately searching for clues and ways to become human again, but finding none. As soon as you open your eyes, you turn into a little bird, after all. The world becomes wider in the bird's eyes. Perhaps awareness is the point? You are preoccupied with the idea of ​​"becoming human"…

But in Sunday's eyes, you are just a motionless bird, as if you are concentrating on something. There is an inexplicable cuteness. "Aren't you going to resist?" The leader of the Oak family wrapped his fingers around your wings, avoiding your wounds, and rubbed your round belly through the wings. If a bird's cheeks could heat up with shyness, you'd be hot right now. What a bastard! He can even harass a small bird! You pecked his fingers in retaliation, but your legs were off the ground the next second.

Sunday held you in his hands as he walked, observing you. You struggled to flap your wings all the way and chirped like he was committing a crime robbing birds. You'd think people would stop Sunday's "criminal" behavior, but other members of The Family were just watching quietly, smiling mysteriously, whispering to each other.

What a moral decline!

You huffed and fell silent. As if the young leader understood the meaning of your actions, a burst of laughter rose from his throat, and he rubbed your little head again. He… is he laughing at you? Lord Xipe, do you see this? He is truly insufferable!

This is not the first time you have entered Sunday's office, but every time before you ran in and quarreled with him before running out. This is the first time you notice the layout of his office. The smell of juniper berries. The cabinets are filled with heavy, thick books. And the light from the sun shining through the colored windows. He opened one of the lockers. You stared at him with your little eyes like a hawk, and you were relieved to find that the bottle of strange blue liquid was a potion.

"Be good, don't move."

Sunday skillfully stopped the bleeding on your wound and then applied the medicine. You bit your mouth, the wings of your wings swaying. Chirping in anguish. He took a new potion and sprayed it on the injured area to finish.

"…There, there. It's okay now…"

You hummed softly inwardly and looked away.

Knock- knock.

"Come in." Sunday responded with his usual elegant smile. You absentmindedly looked to see who it was, but you were so frightened that your pupils trembled.

That's your subordinate, your assistant.

"Mr. Sunday." He gasped with some embarrassment and anxiety. "They- they're missing. It's been over 20 system hours without any trace."

"No response even to private contacts?" The representative of The Family raised his eyelids at this moment, with a hint of disappointment and gloom in his tone. "I thought you were the person they trusted most."

"No - no, Mr. Sunday, you know that my allegiance is always only to you." He put his hand on his chest and bent towards him. It’s like the world has turned into an obscure suspense novel. You are stunned.

He glanced at him twice more, with unknown emotions rolling in his eyes, before giving the order. "Go search immediately and inform the Bloodhound Family that a senior member of the family is missing. We cannot let them encounter any danger."

"Yes." Silence returned to the room. You were still in shock at being betrayed by your subordinates, and you didn't even notice that Sunday had opened the cage.

You are locked up, in a birdcage.

He observes you from outside the cage. He asked. It's like asking for your opinion-

"You stay here now, okay?"

[wonies-cheeks]

The Book That Knows | l.hs

Synopsis: A day where reality and fiction collide, a seemingly normal day for you spirals into terror when you discover a mysterious book in your home. The book eerily mirrors your life, with each page recounting events happening in real time.

Genre: Ghostface!Heeseung, Psychological Horror, Thriller, Supernatural Fiction, Suspense

W/C: 3.9k

Warnings: Violence, Psychological Horror, Supernatural Elements, Manipulation, Implied Threat of Death, Betrayal, Cursing

A/N: Sorry it took me a long time to post something new. University has been stressing me out and i just never had time to just sit down and write. Don't be afraid to send me requests, I'll make sure to try and answer all of them. And i will try to post often. I hope you enjoy!

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

It was a dreary Sunday afternoon when you first heard about Ghost Face on the news. You weren't paying much attention at first, mindlessly flipping channels as the rain poured against your window. But something about the chilling report on the television caught your ear, making you pause. 

The anchor’s voice, calm but laced with tension, described a recent string of brutal murders happening in a nearby town. The killer —known only by the alias "Ghost Face"— had yet to be caught. The mask they wore, white with hollow eyes and a twisted, grinning mouth, had become infamous. What made it all the more terrifying was how they blended into the victims' lives, often posing as a friend, a neighbor, someone familiar — until it was too late. 

You shivered, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV, trying to shake off the eerie feeling creeping up your spine. It was just a story, after all, a terrible tragedy happening somewhere else to someone else. You were safe, tucked away in your cozy home, far from the horrors playing out on the screen. 

You had found an old, tattered novel at a second-hand shop the day before — a horror story with a faded cover, its title barely legible: “The Silent Watcher”. 

 Something about it had drawn you in, though you couldn’t quite place why. The pages smelled of old paper and mystery, and you had a hunch it was the type of book that would get under your skin. 

You settled into your favorite chair, the rain tapping softly against the windows, and began to read. 

The story started off simple enough: a small town, an outsider moving into a creaky, old house, and a series of strange occurrences. The protagonist, a person with no name yet, began to notice odd things happening around them—a door that wouldn’t stay shut, a strange knocking at night, the sensation of being watched. 

As you turned the pages, the descriptions of the protagonist’s life became unsettlingly familiar. They lived alone, much like you. Their house had the same creaking floorboards, the same slightly peeling wallpaper, the same view of the park across the street. You told yourself it was just a coincidence. Old houses often shared these traits, and plenty of horror novels leaned into these types of clichés. 

But as you continued, the details grew more specific. The way the house’s front door stuck if you didn’t pull it hard enough. The exact placement of the furniture in the living room. The faint stain on the ceiling in the kitchen that no amount of scrubbing could remove. Every description matched your own home. 

You put the book down, your heart starting to race. The rain outside had picked up, and the house was filled with that eerie quiet that comes after dusk. You stood up, walking to the window, peering out at the empty street. The park, with its benches and swings swaying in the wind, looked peaceful enough, but you couldn’t shake the creeping feeling crawling up your spine. 

Shaking off the unease, you sat back down and opened the book again. Maybe it was just a trick your mind was playing on you. Maybe you were getting too absorbed in the story. You continued reading, your fingers trembling slightly as you turned the page. 

The protagonist was now feeling watched, just like you had when you first noticed the strange coincidences. They began to hear footsteps at night, soft taps in the hallway that made their pulse quicken. You could feel your own breath quicken as you read, the words pulling you deeper into the mystery. 

Then came the part that made your blood run cold. 

The protagonist, unnamed until now, was given a name—a name that was yours. 

You stared at the page, blinking, convinced you were seeing things. The name was printed clearly. Your name. It couldn’t be. Your mind whirled, trying to rationalize. Maybe it was some bizarre fluke, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, inserting your own name into the story because of how eerily familiar it had become. 

You flipped back a few pages, scanning for when the name first appeared, but it wasn’t there. Your name hadn’t been mentioned earlier in the book. Yet now, it was all over the page, as if it had always been there. 

Heart pounding, you turned to the next chapter. The protagonist—you—was walking through their home, checking the doors, locking the windows, making sure everything was secure. As they—you—moved through the house, the words began to describe something new. Something you hadn’t done yet. 

You froze. 

The book was describing your exact movements, as though it was watching you. " You glance at the clock. It’s 7:14. You place the book down on the side table and stand up, walking to the kitchen to make sure the back door is locked."

Your eyes darted to the clock. It was 7:14. 

The book was reading you. Your movements, your thoughts, every detail of your life was being played out in the story, one sentence ahead of your actions. 

Suddenly, you felt like you weren’t alone. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, thicker, like something was watching, waiting. You stood up, the book slipping from your hands, and glanced toward the hallway. The faint tapping, the sound of footsteps, echoed from the dark. 

You turned to the book, still lying open on the chair. You didn’t want to, but you had to know. With trembling hands, you picked it back up. 

"You walk slowly to the hallway, your heart racing. You know there’s something there. You know that, just beyond the corner, it waits for you."

The tapping grew louder. A steady rhythm, like fingers drumming against the wall. 

"Your breath quickens as you step closer. You don’t want to look, but you can’t stop yourself. You turn the corner, and there it is. The watcher. It has been waiting for you all along."

You took a step forward, the hallway looming before you, every nerve in your body screaming at you to stop. But you couldn’t. The book was in your hands, and you had to know how it ended. 

"The watcher is not human. It never was. Its eyes are fixed on you, unblinking, never leaving, always waiting. And now, you are part of its story. Forever."

You stopped at the edge of the hallway, unable to move. The footsteps had stopped. The house was deathly silent. 

Slowly, you closed the book, but you knew it wasn’t over. 

You stood frozen at the edge of the hallway, the eerie silence wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. The book, now tightly gripped in your trembling hands, felt heavier than before, like it was something alive—breathing, watching, waiting. The words haunted you, the image of the watcher lurking just beyond the corner. But there was something else now, a new presence that made your skin prickle with a strange mix of fear and anticipation. 

A soft knock echoed through the house. Your heart skipped a beat.  

Someone was at the door. 

For a split second, you wondered if you should even answer it. Every instinct screamed that something was wrong. But the knocking came again, more insistent this time, pulling you out of your paralysis. 

You moved toward the door, the sound of your footsteps unnervingly loud in the stillness. When you finally reached it, you hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the handle. The knock came again, this time more insistent, followed by a familiar voice. 

"Hey, it’s me, Heeseung. You there?" 

Relief washed over you. Heeseung was your next-door neighbor, and more than that, your best friend. He was the first one who introduced himself to you once you moved here. He kept you company and helped you out when things got tough. He was the first one that felt like home. If anyone could calm you down from this bizarre, twisted night, it was him. You hurriedly reached the door knob, almost too eagerly, and opened it. 

 Heeseung stood there with his trademark grin, a hoodie pulled over his head and a baseball cap barely concealing his messy black hair that stuck to his forehead. He looked like he had just come from the rain, drops glistening on his clothes. His warm brown eyes scanned your face with an intensity you couldn’t place. For a moment, the world outside seemed to fade into a blur of rain and shadows. It was like the space around him didn’t quite exist, only he did—sharp and real, with an energy that made your pulse quicken.  

“Hey,” he said, his voice steady, almost too calm for the moment. “I saw your light was still on and thought I’d check in. You okay?” 

You blinked, unsure of what to say. The words felt heavy on your tongue. "What.... What are you doing here?" 

The man smiled softly, though there was something about it that made your heart race, a mix of warmth and something else —something unreadable. “I’m your best friend dumbass, your neighbour too,” he said simply. “But you seemed like you needed someone right now.” Something about his presence put you slightly at ease, as though he was meant to be there. Like he'd always been there. 

But your mind snapped back to the book, the horror of what you’d just read, and the watcher that had been described waiting in the shadows. Could this be another coincidence? Or was he something more—something tied to the terrifying mystery unfolding around you? 

"Hey," he said, stepping in without waiting for an invitation, "you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." He wiped the water from his face, his eyes scanning the room like he was searching for something. For a moment, he glanced at the book on the table, its pages slightly open, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. 

You almost laughed at how close to the truth that was. "Yeah, I just—" You hesitated, glancing back at the book sitting on the armchair. "I was reading this creepy book, and it’s messing with my head. It… feels too real, Heeseung." 

He raised an eyebrow, peeking over your shoulder at the book. "What do you mean, 'too real?'" 

You sighed, trying to calm your nerves. "It’s like the book knows what I’m doing. It started describing my house, my movements, even my thoughts. And now I feel like something’s watching me." 

Heeseung chuckled softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Come on, it’s just a book. You’re letting it get to you." Heeseung tilted his head, giving you that playful, reassuring smile that had always made you feel better. 

Heeseung was right—this had to be your mind playing tricks on you. 

As you looked at him, it seemed as if he wanted to say something but was hesitant. You were about to ask him about it but he then spoke after a moment, his voice soft but firm, “But truthfully, I’ve noticed things too. Weird things. I thought maybe... you’d want to talk about it.” 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. He had noticed things? Things like what? 

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Heeseung’s expression darkened slightly, his brows furrowing. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I think you’re being watched. I’ve seen someone—or something—lurking near your house at night. It’s hard to explain, but... it doesn’t feel right.” 

Your pulse quickened, fear curling tightly in your chest. Was it the watcher? The same figure described in the book? How could Heeseung know about this? How could he have seen it when you only just read it? 

As if sensing your rising panic, Heeseung stepped closer, his voice gentler. “Listen, I know how crazy this sounds, but I’m not lying. I’ve seen it. And I don’t think it’s just a person. I think it’s something worse.” 

The book’s words flashed in your mind: "The watcher is not human. It never was."

Your throat went dry. “How do you know?” you managed to ask. 

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Because... I’ve been through this before. A long time ago, in another town, another place. It started just like this. The feeling of being watched. The strange occurrences. The book...” 

Your heart stopped. The book. 

Heeseung followed your gaze to the novel sitting on the table. His face paled slightly. “You’ve been reading it, haven’t you?” 

You nodded slowly. “It’s... about me. It knows everything. Every detail of my life, every move I make. It’s like it’s writing my story as I live it.” 

Heeseung ran a hand through his wet hair, his face grim. “It’s not just writing your story,” he said, his voice low. “It’s controlling it.” 

You stared at him, a sinking feeling gnawing at your stomach. “What do you mean?” 

Heeseung took a deep breath, his eyes darkening with the weight of what he was about to say. “Once you start reading it, it doesn’t stop. The book—"The Silent Watcher"—it latches onto you, like a parasite. It watches, it waits, and then it pulls you in. You become a character in its pages, trapped in the story it writes. The watcher... it’s part of the book, part of the story, and it’s after you.” 

Your mind reeled. The watcher, the book, Heeseung—everything was connected. But how? Why? 

“How do we stop it?” you whispered, dread settling deep in your bones. 

Heeseung looked at you, his eyes filled with both fear and determination. “I don’t know if we can stop it,” he admitted. “But there might be a way to survive. We need to finish the book. And whatever happens, we need to make sure it doesn’t write the ending.” 

The air around you seemed to grow colder, the walls of your house closing in as the weight of his words sank in. The watcher was out there, lurking, waiting. And the only way to escape was to face the story head-on. 

With Heeseung by your side, you knew there was no turning back. 

The book still lay open on the table, waiting for you to turn the next page. 

Together, you took a deep breath and plunged back into the story, knowing that whatever came next, you were no longer alone in this nightmare. 

The rain had slowed to a soft patter against the windows, but inside the house, the tension remained thick. You glanced at Heeseung, whose calm demeanor seemed to waver for a moment as he stared at the book on the table. His earlier words echoed in your mind—"The book is controlling your story. The watcher is part of it." 

But something about him wasn’t sitting right. 

You shook your head, trying to focus. This wasn’t the time for doubt. You had just discovered that your life, your every move, was being dictated by the book. You were living out its plot, a puppet in someone else’s hands, and now Heeseung was telling you that the watcher wasn’t just some figment of your imagination. It was real. But how did he know so much? How was he so familiar with the horrors unfolding around you? 

Heeseung shifted beside you, his eyes scanning the room as if he were looking for something—or someone. 

"Do you hear that?" he asked quietly, stepping closer to you. His voice was soft, but the way his eyes stayed fixed on the book sent a shiver down your spine. 

You strained your ears. The house was silent, save for the ticking of the clock and the faint dripping of rain outside. "No… What are you—" 

He cut you off, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly. "It's closer than you think. We need to be careful." 

Before you could respond, something clicked in your mind—something off about him. There was a confidence in his movements that seemed too practiced, too precise. The way he watched the shadows, as if he was waiting for something, felt more deliberate than concerned. And then there was his sudden arrival. Why had he shown up tonight, of all nights? How had he known to come? 

As Heeseung stepped away from you, pacing the room like he was calculating something, you caught sight of the reflection in the window. For just a split second, you saw it. The faintest hint of something dark, something familiar—the outline of a mask. It was familiar to the one you saw on the television just moments before. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, but your heart lurched in your chest. 

You blinked hard, trying to push the thought away. It couldn't be true. Heeseung was helping you, he was your best friend. He seemed as terrified as you were, didn’t he? 

But as he turned back to face you, his eyes meeting yours, something in his gaze had shifted. There was a glint, a spark of something cold, something calculated. You had seen that look before. Not in Heeseung, but in the very stories you had read—where the killer wore a friendly face, a mask hiding the truth underneath. 

Your pulse quickened, the room suddenly feeling too small. "Heeseung," you said slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "why are you really here?" 

Heeseung stopped, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between you for what felt like an eternity. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I told you—I’ve been through this before. I’ve seen it happen. I’m trying to help you.” 

But there was something wrong with the way he said it. The way his voice dropped, too smooth, too casual, as if he was reading from a script. And then, without warning, he stepped closer, his smile lingering just a little too long. 

You took a step back, your breath catching in your throat. "Help me?" The question came out shaky, your nerves fraying. "Or are you just watching? Like the book says." 

His eyes darkened, and for the first time, you saw it—an unsettling amusement lurking just beneath the surface. "It’s funny," he said, his voice soft, "how easy it is to blend in, to be the hero in someone’s story when really…" He trailed off, a twisted grin tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Your heart raced as the truth began to dawn on you. Heeseung wasn’t here to help. He was here because he was part of the story. He wasn’t just a bystander or some random figure from the neighborhood. He was the watcher. 

Heeseung leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and whispered, "You should’ve been more careful. You never know who’s behind the mask." 

The room spun as the pieces clicked into place. Heeseung—he was the one watching, controlling the story from the shadows. He had lured you into this twisted narrative, guiding your every move, setting the stage for his own sick game. 

And now, you were trapped with him, the very person you thought was your ally. 

Fear gripped you, cold and unforgiving, as Heeseung’s hand drifted toward the edge of his jacket. Slowly, deliberately, he reached inside and pulled out the unmistakable white mask, the one you had seen in countless horror movies and nightmares. The very one you saw on TV. 

Ghost Face. 

He held it in his hand, turning it slowly, watching your reaction with a sick kind of satisfaction. “You really thought you could just read the book and escape?” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “This story was never about escaping. It’s about survival.” 

Your legs felt like they would give out beneath you, but you forced yourself to stand your ground. The book had warned you, laid out the plot, but now you realized—you were never meant to win. 

Heeseung stepped closer, the mask now in place over his face, his voice deep and distorted as he spoke through the iconic grin. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure your ending is… memorable.” 

Panic surged through you, and before he could move, you bolted toward the hallway, your heart pounding in your ears. Behind you, you heard the low chuckle of Ghost Face, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he followed.  

You stumbled through the hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps, trying to make sense of the nightmare you were trapped in. The sound of Heeseung’s slow, deliberate footsteps echoed behind you, growing louder with each passing second. He wasn’t rushing—he didn’t need to. He had the upper hand, and he knew it. 

How did it come to this? Your mind raced as you fought to keep yourself from spiraling into panic. Just hours ago, he was your friend—your ally in this strange, terrifying situation. But now, the realization that he had been the orchestrator of everything, the puppet master behind the mask, hit you like a punch to the gut. 

You skidded into the kitchen, eyes scanning wildly for something—anything—to defend yourself. The drawers. You lunged for them, pulling one open and rifling through its contents. A flash of metal caught your eye, and you grabbed a kitchen knife, gripping it tightly in your trembling hands. 

A soft, mocking laugh drifted from the hallway. “What’s the plan now?” Heeseung’s voice was calm, almost playful, as he spoke through the Ghost Face mask. “You think you’re going to fight me? You’re in my story.” 

His footsteps were getting closer. 

You backed up, heart pounding in your chest, gripping the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. “I’m not just going to stand here and let you kill me,” you spat, your voice shaking but defiant. 

Heeseung’s figure emerged from the shadows of the hallway, the Ghost Face mask a chilling, distorted smile in the dim light. His head tilted slightly, as if amused by your bravery. “That’s what I like about you,” he said, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of admiration. “Always a fighter. But that’s what makes this fun, isn’t it?” 

Heeseung raised a gloved hand, revealing the long, sharp blade of the knife that had been hidden beneath his coat. The sight of it sent a jolt of terror through you. You took a step back, keeping the kitchen table between the two of you, trying to buy time, trying to think of a way out. 

“This isn’t a movie, Heeseung,” you said, voice trembling. “This is real life. You’re not going to get away with this.” 

Heeseung chuckled, the sound dark and menacing. “But that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, twirling the knife in his hand like it was an extension of himself. “This is a story. And you’re still playing your part. You always have been.” 

Your back hit the counter, and you realized you were running out of space. Heeseung was toying with you, taking his time, savoring every moment of your fear. 

The book’s final pages flashed through your mind as you were trapped, the chilling truth seeping into your bones. You weren’t just a character in the story anymore. 

You were its prey. 

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

Part 2?

[thoughtsonkm]

Bye Jeju, you've been good..

Eyes always on the prize Jungkookssii mm

The trio was really wholesome in some moments but I'm so ready for Jikook's cozy winter times. It's literally their default setting.

This type of lighthearted mood and way of talking about the topic brings me peace for them. They looked relieved and confident in their choice to stay together. I don't know if they actually knew since September about the lottery verdict or they were just manifesting real hard ahead of time because in their mind there's no way they're separating (like no we don't accept any other answer than being together) but either way what matters is the result and their content feeling.

The way Tae was on the phone the whole time like 'yeah I've heard your enlistment talk 348392 times already' 😂 There really is a sort of "danger" to them having only one extra person on the table cause they get too engulfed in each other. They need a big group when they go out or else 1-2 ppl will feel kinda alienated lol

Jimin in this dark flannel fit got the whole fandom in shambles and rightfully so.

~

Gotta say every time Jimin entertains Jungkook going on and on about topics he knows/has info about, my fondness for them reaches a whole new peak 🥹

~

I get they were trying to display their strength with their typical pool shenanigans but Jungkook?? You need to chill man there's plenty of other ways to "help a man from drowning" 😂(could this type of insane underwater hair grab be considered bf privileges? lol)

This towel scene is so 'boys' coded but also a little frisky you feel me? It just has that vibe you know..

This episode's cuddle was kinda my favourite so far tbh (the CT one is in its own hall of fame given how it was more of a hungry feast than a cuddle). Idk why it just felt very soft, squishy and needy.

NOW THIS is a confirmation about the perilla leaf debacle. Kook was so careful about it I was dying laughing. It can be a risky choice HAHAHAHAHA

mimi 🤝🏻 cats kook 🤝🏻 dogs

WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR YOU, BABY I ADORE YOU 🎶

This scene was the funniest of the episode. The theatrics, the dramatics, the "asking for more sausage while Jimin was leaving". PEAK

The way he was worried about his taste buds lol. Food really is his #2 priority damn. (#1 being Jimin)

Btw this scene doesn't prove anything but the fact that their hyung-dongseang dynamic is almost ✨nonexistent✨.

~

I noticed they always look at the crew in front of them after smth happens or a joke or whatever. Instead they should look at the camera and break the fourth wall, it would be so funny.

~

He's been thinking about it since NYC your honor..

~

Out of topic but during 3 days in Jeju we could see them from time to time with a mic in their hands, especially Jimin, but they never showed any karaoke scenes. ROBBED

~

The suspense about Sapporo is not good for my liking. Like they don't need to make Japan more mystical than it is already, we know it's gonna be the softest thing ever.

Why so hush hush huh? I expect an announcement video by Sunday! (max. monday!)

Anyways..Sapporooo here we cooomeee

[ppeonppeonhan]

So My Stand-In just ended, and We Are & Wandee Goodday end next week. We still got Knock Knock, Boys!, My Love Mix-Up!, The Rebound, Love Sea, and SunsetxVibes for a while, but...

4 Minutes (Action | Drama | Sci-Fi)

It took Bible almost 2 years to crawl out of that Build fiasco, and the fandom is primed to see him again with all of the ominous and sultry clips of the series they've been teasing us with.

Obviously, it looks promising 👀 but I'm most excited to see him in action again, and to explore another supernatural Thai drama -- this time about precognition (aka seeing the future). It'll be even more interesting to explore what it's like to be in a relationship when you BOTH have that ability. Does it prevent missteps or prove they're inevitable? We'll also get to see if Sammon, co-writer of the haunting Dead Friend Forever, will haunt us with every project.

Battle of the Writers (Rom Com)

Tutor and Yim of Middleman's Love are joined by not one, but FIVE other couples in this adaptation of a Chinese webtoon where one of them is accused of plagiarizing the other. I love a love-hate dynamic, but I can't imagine Yim resisting Tutor for long, so we'll see.

Century of Love (Action | Drama | Romance | Supernatural)

Boy meets girl. Boy falls for girl. Girl dies. Boy uses magic stone to stay alive and agrees to die a tragic death if he doesn't find his reincarnated girl after 100 years. The Gods said "Ally!", sent her ass back as a boy the last year of that century, as if to say: "Oh, are you really in love? Prove it!" Boy, understandably, doesn't recognize girl. Suspense and tension ensue.

Really enjoying how the supernatural genre is slowly becoming as prominent as the high school / college romance settings. Please give me more of The Sign. But I'm, honestly, not really a fan of the actor Daou, which made it hard to endure their last series together, Love in Translation. Mostly in it for cheeky and adorable Offroad -- and the plot, obviously.

This Love Doesn’t Have Long Beans (Rom Com)

So what I gather from the trailer is that a douchey rich guy hires a model to seduce a chef into making him his successor. Fuzzy on the why, but am far more interested in how that rich guy seduces the model's very aggressive bestie. Double the love-hate. Double the fun.

The Pit Babe writers wasted NO time capitalizing on the success of their series, and their pairings. Not only is this an answer to the Jeff and Alan fandom's pleas for more, it's also a response to the ghost ship of Kim and Kenta. We've never felt so seen. Also, I'm loving Thailand's Chef era.

The Trainee (Comedy | Drama | Romance)

A production intern slowly realizes the assistant director that everybody fears is low-key kindhearted -- and a whole ass snack. PAPI!!!

Love me some OffGun. Cooking Crush was meh but I have high hopes for this one. Per uje, their chemistry is immaculate.

DATE: Mid-July 2024

[megustacat]

30 Jason Mendal Head Canons - Imagines from someone who does not like him so much

◎━━━━━━◎.◈.◎━━━━━━◎

non-explicit but slight nsfw mentions below

◎━━━━━━◎.◈.◎━━━━━━◎

Enjoys and collects expensive whiskeys from all around the world, also collects cigars - especially the Cuban ones.

Gets a kick out of power - will keep you in suspense because he likes to see you struggle and then releases you as the relieving savior that he is (and yes, I mean that in every possible way).

Has a collection of several black suits which are all the same model.  

Goes for Sunday drives in one of his cabrios as soon as there is one single ray of sunshine out - also drives like an asshole and will tailgate you even if you are already 10 over speed limit. Road rage is real with him.

Has a pool table room in his mansion where he keeps his whiskey bottles neatly organized and plays pool against his visitors - he will always win and he will let you know that he is going to win.

Sore loser - especially in competitions he is good at.

As ambitious as it gets - will stay after hours and also work from home. Sundays are rarely a Sunday for him.

His love language is Giving Gifts - loves to buy clothes and jewelry for his partner, but also other trinkets and things that will serve as a constant reminder of him being in your life.  

Possessive. Will leave love bites all over you and will compromise little.

If he had to choose a pet he would go for a cat. It must be a black cat though and she has to be well behaved. Doesn’t like dogs and their blind loyalty and especially not their smell.

Red wine drinker. Almost as bad a divorced auntie.

Uses hand lotion and chapstick regularly but would not admit to it.

Reads the newspaper on a daily basis and puts a lot of importance on staying informed and on top of recent trends. Judges you if you are not interested in politics and economics and finds it childish to not stay involved in what is going on in the world.

Apple fanboy. Every tech item he owns is from Apple and he will immediately have the newest tech iterations on launch day.

Goes to opera but is not very interested in it. Sees that more as an opportunity to go there with potential clients and discuss business matters.

Always plans slightly over the briefed client budget and then argues with them. Is willing to go down but wants to test his clients. Can effort to lose the ones who are not willing to invest more, and also gladly lets them go.

Has an older sister, who’s a mean girl. Now that they are older they get along better and are mean girls together.

Bondage.

Is very charming when it comes to networking. Meeting new clients and other potential company leads for collaboration is easy for him and he is a sharp observer. Finds it easy to be charismatic and connect quickly and reads people like a book.

Private jet is love, private jet is life.

Loves to travel, especially with his partner. Not because he necessarily wants to see the world or the big wonders of it but because he wants to physically distance himself from his work. He takes it very seriously so actively seeking physical distance from it is one of his ways to get away from it for good.

Has a private coach with whom he works out a lot, at least three times a week, to keep himself healthy.

Generally puts a lot of emphasis on being and staying healthy, like eating well, working out, ergonomic working with standing desks, regular med checks up, to the point where he almost feels like a hypochondriac. Also loves to regularly have saunas.

Judging and directiv. Doesn’t like to elaborate on decisions, mostly wants to have them respected and followed. Also, very direct and ordering when he talks to people. You will hear him say “Listen here”, “Let’s do this”, “Talk to me” a lot in his speech pattern.

Follows in the steps of his father who expected him to also make it big, like him. Jason always felt pressure to accommodate and now that he succeeded over his father, it still seems like there is still no satisfaction. Does not have the best bond to him, but will always have his father as his biggest male influence in his life, seeking a never satisfied-approval from him and mostly finding frustration and criticism.

Plays Golf. Of course he does. Prepare to be the golf cart princess / prince, and pop a bottle of champagne every time he scores a hole in one. He lets you play as often as you like, but he likes it the most when he sees you cheer for him.

Actively participates in day-trading, and if he can’t do it he has a personal stock trader do it for him (which is most of the time because he is too busy with work).

Has a large selection of guide books for succeeding in various fields in life - whether that’s financials, work optimization, self-confidence, charisma and communication. If he reads fiction he likes to go for classics. Can and will judge you on your taste in literature. Finds poetry a waste of time.

His favorite movie director is Christopher Nolan and he can and will make you watch every single one of his movies. Could discuss Interstellar and Inception for hours on end.

Even though he prefers to have people follow his orders and respect his decisions without questioning them, he wants and needs you to go against him. He wants to have constant stimulation in his relationship, mostly in the form of receiving contra from you. It keeps him on his feet and specifically wants you to be different to the world around him. He doesn’t want you to go too far, and generally wants you to agree with him on basic ideologies, but he needs your backlash - it keeps his love for you alive.

[mirai-e-jump]

Duet December 2023 Issue ft. Ikeda Masashi Mini Interview (translation below)

Publication: November 7, 2023

Where Passion Resides -Passion for life as an actor-

"The theme this time is "Passion." What made Masashi Ikeda-kun, a multitalented athlete and musician, decide to pursue a career in acting? We asked him to share the passionate feelings he holds inside."

Ikeda: My family loved movies and dramas, so we would rent various genres from the video rental store, such as war documentaries, period dramas, and foreign films, and lived a life where they were always playing in the background. As I was surrounded by movies and dramas, I naturally began to admire the actors who lived in the film world.

However, I couldn't find the courage to pursue my dream….At first, I was just going to find employment. When I was in my third year of college, I was scouted by A-PLUS, the agency I work for now.

I thought again, "How do I want to live my life?" and asked my parents about it. At that time, they told me, "Do whatever you like," so I decided to become an actor, saying, "I only have one life, so I want to take on the challenge!"

I'm grateful to my agency for giving me a chance when I was ready to start job hunting, and to my family for kindly watching over me as I pursued the path I wanted to take. I want to go all the way so that the choice I made that day won't be a mistake.

My first role was as a medical student in episode 10 of Sunday Theater's "TOKYO MER: Mobile Emergency Room"

The tight schedule from morning to late at night made me realize how difficult the profession of being an actor is.

Even in the fast paced and tense environment, the actors, such as Suzuki Ryohei-san and Kaku Kento-san, who played the main roles, performed confidently. Furthermore, I was amazed at how cool and dazzling they looked during the long filming hours, never showing any signs of fatigue and always smiling.

Since I only know about completed productions, I've seen the hard work that goes on behind the scenes, and my fighting spirit is burning to work even harder in my acting career. My main goal now is to play the lead in a drama or movie.

However, since I'm still inexperienced, I'd like to explore new sides of actor Ikeda Masashi by working in various genres, such as comedy and suspense, which I've never tried before.

I live by the motto, "If I'm going to do something, I'll go all the way!" I'll enjoy even the difficult parts, and will continue to do my best from now on!

-Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger- Insider Info

While there were many serious scenes, episode 36 was a silly episode, so there was lots of adlibbing and was fun to film. There's a scene where Jeramie, who I play, manipulates Yanma to dance, and Watanabe Aoto-kun who plays him said to me, "The Director said, I don't care what kind of dancing you do. So, do you have any ideas?" I requested for him to perform the "Awa Odori" dance from my hometown of Tokushima (laughs). I'd like you to see his brave performance in response to my absurd request. I feel bad about making only Aoto-kun dance, so if there's an opportunity, I'll also perform the Awa Odori dance somewhere! (laughs).

[isawthesainz]

Race Recap 14: Belgium

Sunday 28th July 2024

Build-Up:

On 23rd July, it is announced that former Ferrari chief Mattia Binotto will join Audi to lead their F1 project

On 24th July, it is announced that Max Verstappen will take a 10-place grid penalty after having to replace his ICE for the fifth time

On 25th July, it is announced that Esteban Ocon will join Haas for 2025 on a multi-year contract

Also on 25th July, it is revealed that Bruno Famin, the current Alpine principal, is expected to leave the team after the Belgian GP weekend

On 26th July, Alpine announce that team principal Bruno Famin will leave his current role by the end of August

On 26th July, it is announced that Yuki Tsunoda will take a 60-place grid penalty due to a new power unit

In FP3, both Tsunoda and Oscar Piastri run wide over the gravel due to heavy rain, briefly bringing out the yellow flag. Practice is red flagged after Lance Stroll’s aquaplanes and hits the wall at Eau Rouge, breaking the front suspension. After the restart, the session is interrupted by a second red flag due to a large amount of standing water on the track. The red flag is removed with just two minutes left on the clock

Despite setting the fastest time in qualifying, Verstappen will start from P11 due to a grid penalty, with Charles Leclerc taking pole position

Race Highlights:

At the end of Lap 3, Zhou Guanyu reported that he was losing power. However, by Lap 4, his Race Engineers managed to fix the issue without a visit to the pits and the Sauber driver was able to continue the race

On Lap 7, Zhou enters the pits and retires the car due to a hydraulics issue

After the first round of pit stops, Carlos Sainz (who is yet to pit) leads the race with Lando Norris (also yet to pit) in P2

A brief yellow flag is shown on Lap 15 as Sainz runs wide over the gravel in Sector 3

Norris pits on Lap 15, with Sainz pitting on Lap 20

Mercedes call Lewis Hamilton into the pits on Lap 26. Meanwhile, George Russell asks the team to consider a one-stop strategy

During the second round of pit stops, Oscar Piastri pits on Lap 30, overshooting the box and hitting the crew member holding the front jack. The pit stop takes 4.4 seconds and he rejoins the race on P4

By Lap 33, Russell is leading the race, having only had one pit stop. Hamilton is in P2, followed by Charles Leclerc and Piastri

Piastri overtakes Leclerc on Lap 36 to take P3

By Lap 41, Hamilton is within DRS range of Russell, who’s tyres had now completed 30 laps

By Lap 42, Piastri is closing in on both Mercedes drivers, whilst Russell defends agains Hamilton

Sergio Perez pits on Lap 43 to set the fastest lap time from P8

On the final lap, Hamilton locks up into Turn 1, dropping back from Russell

Russell finishes the race in P1, followed by his teammate Hamilton for a Mercedes 1-2. Piastri finishes P3

However, shortly after the race, it is announced that Russell has been disqualified from the race after his car was found to be 1.5kg below the minimum weight requirement. The decision means that Hamilton inherits the win from his teammate, to take his second victory of the season

Race Results:

1st Place: Lewis Hamilton

2nd Place: Oscar Piastri

3rd Place: Charles Leclerc

[watchyourbuck]

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ Seven Sentence Sunday!

tagged by @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @wikiangela @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @wildlife4life @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @evanbegins thank you my loves! go check their works!! 🤍

well a few days ago I started thinking about a new wip, and today I come show you the first snippet. I would usually keep it hidden bc I like suspense but not this time. It’s gonna be 10 letters written by Eddie, sent to Maddie. Each chapter will be a new letter. Kinda tw: Buck’s dead. This is the only thing Eddie and Maddie have to keep the memory of him alive.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

"Dear Maddie,

I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to you. After burying the funeral, I felt like I was going to die. I... still kinda do. Everywhere I look, I see him. I guess I don't have to explain it to you. You probably see him, too. He was never just mine. He was ours.

I don't have words of comfort. Chris is in pieces, and frankly, so am I. Somedays I wake up and I absentmindedly reach over to his side. I've had to curl bu back up into my side and cover myself up. The bead is wearing out unevenly.

It's getting harder to carry on. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I deleted everyone's number. I don't think I'm strong enough to ever see any of them again. Any of you, really.

I love you, Maddie, I'm sorry.

I should ask how you are, but I think that'd be stupid. Last I heard, Chim had to get you commited against your will. I don't know where you are, but I hope these letters reach you anyway. I think it's the last I have of him, and it's the last I can give of me.

You kindly asked me to tell you how we fell in love. I gotta be honest, Maddie, I didn't couldn't yet, but now... there's a part of me that believes I'll forget if I don't write it down. Kinda like everything else is wasting away.

So, I will. I'm gonna tell you our story. I will be as delicate as I can, because he never deserved anything but gentleness. I only hope I was able to love him the way the universe intended me to love him. I can't fathom thinking that loving him from this far will ever amount to what I could've done had we had our whole lives.

I was too late."

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

tagging @spagheddiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @eddiebabygirldiaz @malewifediaz @buckleyobsessed @smilingbuckley @eddie---diaz @princessfbi @eowon @honestlyeddie @monsterrae1 @bucksbirthmark @transbuck @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @nmcggg @disasterbuckdiaz @your-catfish-friend @giddyupbuck @try-set-me-on-fire @firemedicdiaz let me know if you wish to be removed from this particular tag💗

[brownish-bear]

middle of sunday rush im just trying to make sandwiches and i have an epiphany

and i havent been as in touch with the fandom for tmagp so i be rehashing here but:

basiras a school deputy thing--important thing here is this is simply a different career that still is very much a position of power over a population of people, and typically i feel people who do wrong bc wouldnt she be dealing with like suspensions and the like. thats a new thought i just like wow the parallels are actually insane BUT ANYWAYS NOT THE POINT

so really my thought is the universe is just barely shifted

consider: jon only tape recorded cases that didnt work on his laptop. this was explained in the first episode of tma. it wasnt EVERY case, it was certain cases. same way only CERTAIN cases are text to speech in tmagp

consider: in tmagp universe, jon, martin, JURGEN LEITNER ILL COME BACK TO HIM NO I WONT JURGEN LEITNER HELLO I FEEL LIKE WE'RE BREEZING PAST THE FACT THAT WE'RE HEARING JURGEN LEITER READING US HISTORICAL CASES ITS NOT JUST FOR THE VIBES BABES IN THIS UNIVERSE JURGEN LEITNER WORKED FOR THE MAGNUSE INSTITUTE, yeah thats what im getting at in this universe jartin and leitner worked on creating a text to speech or something of the like or SOMETHING they worked in the institute for sure im sure of it sam just needs to get better detective skills

(AMMENDUM: I NEED BETTER DETECTIVE SKILLS IT ISNT JURGEN LEITNER IM JUST BAD AT VOICES. JONAH MAGNUS?)

okay ive got my word vomit out

jon martin jonah. worked at the institute. perhaps worked on text to speech technology for institute. because this universe. is just barely shifted.

mess of an explaination but its all ive got and no i wont try any harder to make it coherent

pls pls add or argue against or anything im foaming at the mouthing thinking about this

its so hard listening to good podcasts as they come out bc wdym i have to WAIT before i can know all the things wdym i cant guess everything immediately

[queerdiazs]

snippet sunday 🧸

i started in on the climax of hoa eddie and decided i have to write trans eddie, but instead of working on either one of those wips i started a new one?

from my next bad things happen fic, bone apple the teeth

When Eddie wakes up, he quickly notices that he is not in his comfortable bed with its silk sheets and fleece blanket and mound of pillows. Instead, he’s cramped in the backseat of a smelly car with shitty suspensions and a flat tire on the front passenger’s side.  He flips over onto his back and takes stock. His head is covered with something thick enough that no light penetrates and his hands have been zip-tied behind his back; sweat’s dried his hair to his face, sticky and stinky, and he’s missing both shoes and a sock.  He takes as deep of a breath as he can with his head covered and sighs. After a moment, other things filter in. The car’s moving fast, like they’ve got somewhere to go, and the radio’s turned low. Something like Metallica plays but Eddie can’t figure out the song, which irritates him worse than being kidnapped honestly.  Because that’s what’s happened. He’s been kidnapped.  He sighs again.  One of his kidnappers makes an ugly, choked noise. “You lyin’ bitch, Leo,” they say, nasally and congested. “I knew it was you that put the fork in the microwave and blamed it on Kevin. I knew it.”  “Suck my dick, Mark,” the other kidnapper—Leo, apparently—says. The car veers like the wheel’s been jerked; a couple of curse words later and Eddie belatedly realizes that it was, in fact, grabbed and pulled. “You tell a soul and I’m gonna take a shit in every single one of your shoes.”  “I only got three pair!”  He’s been kidnapped by a set of the most incompetent, annoying criminals to ever exist.  He sighs for a third time and rolls back over onto his side. Might as well sleep the drugs off some more while he waits for whatever they’ve got planned for him. 

tagged by @actualalligator, @devirnis, @honestlydarkprincess, @disasterbuckdiaz, @wildlife4life, @daffi-990, and @wikiangela <3

tagging @spagheddiediaz, @puppyboybuckley, @jeeyuns, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @watchyourbuck, and @monsterrae1 if any of you wanna share!

[mariacallous]

The dinner table unites and divides, especially the question of what we eat and how we eat it. It is therefore not surprising that politicians frequently use food as a wedge issue to push their ideological agendas and define who belongs in a group and who doesn’t.

The recent political firestorm ignited by former U.S. President Donald Trump’s claim during a presidential debate that “In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs. The people that came in. They’re eating the cats,” has upended life in the small Ohio town—especially for its Haitian migrant population. The newly arrived refugees have been accused of eating their neighbors’ pets, leading to bomb threats to local schools and the suspension of in-person classes at nearby universities.

The repercussions of the event have been felt far beyond Springfield. On Sunday, vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance seemed to double down on the rumors he helped launch—telling CNN’s Dana Bash that “If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

The baseless rumor Haitians immigrants eating pets in Springfield was promptly and summarily debunked by the town authorities. The soundbite was obviously meant to generate anxiety among voters who consider immigration a fundamental threat to the survival of the United States as we know it.

Whether it is truth or fiction does not matter. The Republican candidates’ divisive strategy has succeeded because of the symbolic meanings Americans—or any people—tend to attribute to certain foods that are seen to reflect and embody their identity as a community. These, in turn, generate strong emotional connections. Such reactions can easily bypass rational reflection. They feed instead off gut feelings. That’s why evidence negating Trump’s narrative may not actually change people’s knee-jerk reaction of revulsion.

The United States, due to its social and cultural diversity, is the perfect laboratory to test this kind of gastronativist messaging. Gastronativism can be activated not only via political affiliation, but also by class, religion, age, nationality, language and, of course, race and ethnicity. Throughout U.S. history, new immigrants have been accused of strange and disgusting culinary habits as a strategy to denigrate them and keep them at the margins of society.

German and Irish immigrants in the mid-19th century were identified with excessive consumption of beer and whisky, a habit that was considered with contempt in a society where anti-alcohol currents were strong and would, over time, originate legal arrangements such as prohibitionism.

The Chinese that settled on the West Coast to work in mining and in railway construction were frequently scorned for their consumption of rice as a main staple, which was considered a sign of their lack of civilization. As most of them were men, at least at first, rice was also interpreted as the explanation for their assumed lack of virility. They were also accused of eating rats, as well serving cats and dogs in their restaurants.

When new waves of migrations from Southern and Eastern Europe invested in the United States, it was the time for garlic and its smell to be derided as an inevitable trait of Italians. This time, well intentioned social workers tried their best to wean the newcomers from their excessive use of vegetables and spices and to convince them to increase their consumption of dairy and meat, which the nutritional theories of the time considered as indispensable to provide the necessary strength for those engaged in physical labor. As new populations arrived, it was their turn to see their food and culinary traditions disparaged as clear marks of their cultural and social inferiority.

The real issue, of course, was always who the “real Americans” were. And the specter of Black migrants eating pets has proved to be even more potent than old scare stories about the Chinese, Italians, and Irish.

Springfield, Ohio, has in recent years experienced a massive influx of refugees escaping political instability in Haiti. The new arrivals, who are there legally, have eased the local businesses’ need for workers, from agriculture to industrial plants. However, they have also have strained the city’s financial and welfare resources, eliciting strong reactions among locals.

While Ohio Republican Gov. Mike DeWine, acknowledging the inevitable growing pains that come with a sudden population increase, has pointed out the role of Haitians in the economic resurgence of Springfield, his fellow Republican, Vance, has ignored the migrants’ contribution to the town’s comeback in favor of spreading wild and incendiary rumors. The fact that Trump and Vance doubled down on a lie points to its usefulness in stirring apprehension among their supporters, with the goal of bringing them to the polls.

Haitian refugees have escaped a country devastated by gang violence and political disarray. Many of them are likely to have experienced food insecurity, an issue that has plagued the island of Haiti for decades and has intensified due to the recent instability. Moreover, Haitians are Black, which itself constitutes a threat for certain segments of the white electorate who feel that their way of life and their privileges are being unfairly usurped by non-white newcomers.

It is easy to project on foreigners who come from a poor country a readiness to feed themselves in any way possible, including consuming animals that better-off people would not consider food.

Haitians, in particular, are often portrayed as practitioners of voodoo, an Afro-Caribbean religion that syncretizes Catholic saints with West African deities. Born out of the culture of enslaved Africans in the New World as a form of resistance and transmission of their original culture, voodoo is connected with practices that include spiritual possession and, on occasion, animal sacrifices. American popular culture has played a central role in making these customs visible and, in many cases, terrifying—partly due to the connection between voodoo and zombie lore in films and horror literature.

The apprehension about the supposed religious practices of Haitians has deep roots in American culture. The anxiety about the mysterious habits of people of African descent has been a longstanding historical phenomenon in the United States since the colonial period. Such fears were intensified by the fact that enslaved people grew and cooked the food that their owners consumed.

Black women at times were tasked with breastfeeding white children and, in many cases, raising them. Against this background, tales about Black magic and juju abounded, indicating a clear ambivalence between the need for products and meals that came from Black hands and the awareness that those exploited in fields and kitchens may hold a grudge.

Given this history, the fake news regarding Haitians in Springfield is far from unexpected. It is through food that we distinguish “us” from “them.” And of course, “we” are inherently better than “them.”

Although Trump also mentioned wild geese being hunted, the fears about Haitian newcomers focused on pets, and in particular dogs. This particular phobia has a long lineage. Some native populations in North American did consume dog meat, causing disconcertment among European settlers. A 2018 regulation, the Dog and Cat Meat Trade Prohibition Act, was included in the Farm Bill, prohibiting the slaughtering of cats and dogs for human consumption, with the exception of native ceremonies.

Dog eating, however, was also a custom in China, South Korea, and the Philippines, among other countries, all of which have seen substantial migration toward the United States. The rapidly growing numbers of Asians in the United States intensified existing anti-Asian sentiments and racial intolerance, which increased during the coronavirus pandemic, attributed by many politicians to China. To emphasize its foreignness and blame Asians for it, Trump referred to the coronavirus as “kung flu.” The stereotype of the “dog-eating Asian” had a temporary resurgence, together with slurs and taunts that were often dug out from the past.

While dog eating is still legally practiced in some areas of China, it is in decline (Shenzhen became in 2020 the first city to outlaw it), and dog slaughtering as livestock has been banned in the Philippines since 1998, with an exception for rituals in indigenous communities and despite the persistence of some residual illegal consumption. In 2024, South Korea passed a law against the breeding and slaughter of dogs.

But reality does not seem to affect the circulation of food-related conspiracy theories, whose effectiveness is predicated on their capacity to strike emotional chords. The power of gastronativist fantasies grows precisely out of the centrality of eating in defining our identity and belonging. Facts end up losing relevance.

The incidents supposedly taking place in Springfield echo preexisting narratives with a long history, making the rumors feel familiar enough that lies begin to sound like truth. The emerging storyline of pet-eating Haitians responds to the needs of the politicians who peddle it while reflecting the ideological worldview of their followers. The victims—in this case a migrant community from a beleaguered country—are the collateral, calculated damage.

[scratchybongvt]

HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT!

For @cutesymiga, my mascotverse friend for a while, and everyone in the mascotverse. I love every single one of them.

Vinicius: Hi guys, I have a big surprise for you, give me an hour for suspense

Takes inhaler

My new YouTube channel!

Vini laughs but then eventually weeps. Poor guy.

[Technical difficulties]

Welcome to the new SIDEMEN channel!

Oh wait…

[Technical difficulties]

Hi guys and welcome to the new SIDEMASCOTS channel!

(The sidemascots)

Forget KSDouchebag and his team of little slaves, forget Ronaldo and Messi and their team of little slaves, watch me, and MY team of little slaves.

(The sidemascots)

So who will make…

(The sidemascots)

It’s time to meet our co-founder and co-creator…

Sumi: Sumi! Woof woof!

Vinicius: Calm down Sumi…

Sumi: i’m going to calm down, gee…

Vinicius: Phew…

Sumi: For the next 3 minutes!

Vinicius: Holy…

Sumi: Here’s what you can expect in every episode of the Sidemascots!

Vinicius: EPIC CHALLENGES!

Sumi: Like singing songs one syllable off!

Vinicius: Here comes the… doo doo doo doo… wow, it really is a challenge!

Sumi: COMEDY SKETCHES!

Vinicius: Wait a minute, isn’t this a sketch already?

Sumi: Yes, but with banter and a bit of this:

Vinicius: gasp CUT!

[Technical difficulties]

Vinicius: Amateur stunts!

Sumi: And we guarantee you it’s safer than Eleventh Gear!

Tom: WHAT?! No more me and my motor show?

Vinicius: Sorry Tom, it’s 2024…

Tom: No motorsports extremism? I’m going to make my own Sidemen rip-off!

Sumi: Oh no, not another crap show with Powd- I mean Swifty!

Vinicius: BOXING MATCHES!

Sumi: Promises to have more scripting than World Championship Wrestling!

Vinicius: Promises to have more scripting than the World Cup!

Sumi: Any last words?

Vinicius: What?

Sumi KO’d Vini in the face

Sumi: TICKETS START AT $299,99! GOOD LUCK WITH THAT!

Vinicius: EPIC DISS TRACKS!

Sumi: To Tina, Cortina D’Ampezzo’s most passionate Inter Milan fan…

Vinicius and Sumi: RODRI’S ON FIRE! YOUR DEFENSE IS TERRIFIED!

Tina: No! My Istanbul PTSD! (jumps out of the window)

Sumi: Well that should raise the age rating up a notch…

Vinicius: Let’s just diss Fluminense instead.

Sumi: Fluminense? Who are they?

Vinicius: Exactly.

Sumi: And don’t worry, we won’t do this alone, we’ll be joined by 8 troublemaker- I mean mascots!

Vinicius: Tune in for Season 1 auditions! And don’t forget…

Sumi: TO FOLLOW MY TWITTER ACCOUNT! I NEED 2K FOLLOWERS BEFORE GTA VI RELEASES!

Vinicius: Has three minutes passed?

Sumi: Yeah.

Vinicius: I was promoting Sidemascots merch!

Sumi: Merch?! No one told me to print some merchandise!

Vinicius: 🤦‍♂️

New episodes every Sidemascots Sunday!

Sumi: Sunday?! I can’t wait a week! And I’m busy on Sundays! #SumiSundays

Vinicius: sigh… Fine, new episodes every Sidemascots Whatever!

Sumi: Yippee! We want 50k likes for this video! And make sure to donate your life savings to my Patreon! It’s sooooooooo obvious! Oh, and remember…

Vinicius: Set the Subscribe button to cook…

Vinicius and Sumi: OR YOU’RE OFF THE HOOK!

Vini and Sumi chatter in distance.

Vinicius: Sumi, do you think it’s a good idea to tell people to subscribe like that?

Sumi: Yes! It’s from a famous man…

Vinicius: John Cena?

Sumi: Mr. T.

Vinicius: Heard of him before…

Sumi: Exactly.

⚠️CHALLENGER APPROACHING!⚠️

Out in the woods…

???: The sidemascots? We’ll see about that.

Stay tuned.

[fountainpenguin]

"'cuz half the time I can't love right, and I can't have sex and we both get quiet... Boy, I must be one f'd up guy ... It'll be fine- Quick, let's get married!" (x)

New Fairly OddParents 'fic today!

Rated T - 13k+ words

50 Words of Dale and Hadley

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

🌃 City Lights AU

✨ More Fairly OddParents 'fics

🎲 Randomlists.com's 50-word generator

51. Connection - "Here, here- You hold Devin. Oh, look at his little feet... Have you got him? How's it feel?" "..."

50 scene snippets about two rich kids in Dimmsdale... and the newlywed life that came tumbling after.

OR, Dale and Hadley are doing their best. Maybe that can be enough.

(First 5 prompts under the cut)

- Blood warning (Hunting & field dressing a deer)

Saturday July 13th, 2002 - Sunday April 20th, 2014

Summer of the Last Berry - Spring of the Patient Lizard

1. Brown

None of the kids who'd worked the lemonade stand had brown eyes. Not like these ones, glassed over the way marbles shone. Life made its fortune in thin and fleeting things. Even the deer knew that. Dale loomed above it with his knife to watch its black tail quiver one last time. It died, probably, before it hit the ground. Soft summer grass bloomed beneath its snow-white neck patch. Crunchy leaves would make hunting 10 times harder when autumn lashed around. You could see the deer better through the trees, though. Hadley told him that on the drive up.

Sunlight striped the buck's bronze sides, which had thrummed in breath just seconds ago. Its eyes locked on skyward things. Had the deer gotten one last look at the sun before it tripped and fell? Or did it die in darkness, head in shadow while it grazed?

"That was close," said the girl beside him, leaning the gun against her shoulder. You could smell Dimmsdale pride straight on her. Dale flared his nostrils, breathing in the scent of blood and fur. And dirt, and morning's chill. Hadley patted his arm twice, her fingers warm even through his baggy sleeve. Mud and water splattered both hems of her camo pants. "But you really kept us in suspense. I thought you weren't going to shoot."

Those big, dark eyes…

2. Saw

Dale never hunted with his dad growing up. He wasn't old enough; it wasn't legal. But Hadley moved like a spider, following all her dad's field dressing instructions to the letter. After clean-up for the pictures, she jabbed her knife straight in the deer's stomach and drew it down the belly. Dark blood seeped out to the grass… and then came handfuls of goopy guts. Dale took every breath without blinking, but kept out of Hadley's way as she and her dad did their thing. Doug Dimmadome - his own dad - patted Dale twice on the shoulder.

"Now, that right there, son, is a thing of beauty. That's a Grade-A shot! Looks like you hit the brain. We'll make a hunter of you yet."

"Mmhm."

"Have you ever made an antler pen, Dale?" Mr. Leadly asked, running his thumb across one antler branch. They glimmered milky white. They looked funny where they sprouted from the head; you could see how tufts of fur bent to make way for giant forks.

"I haven't, sir." And, sensing this might be Leadly's way of turning the conversation to business, he followed that statement with, "Do you manufacture them for Pencil Nexus?"

Mr. Leadly beamed. Dale let out his breath. Good. I guessed right. When the man - short, but totally strong, and almost unrecognizable wearing camo instead of scalding yellow - motioned him over, Dale moved to stand above the deer. Blood and guts ran like water through Hadley's hands. Ew. She glanced up at Dale just long enough to smile and push that wild russet hair back from her eyes. Oh, she got that color from her mom, definitely- Not from Mr. Leadly. The way she wiped her fingers left a smear of blood across her cheek. Dale moved one hand to touch it, then stopped himself.

I'm not the babysitter anymore. She can do it herself. She peered up at him like a grim reaper decoration in the yard on Halloween. Uhhh. Dale hadn't seen a Halloween for 7 years.

He turned his silent stare to Leadly again. The man made another gesture with his hand to guide Dale's eyes to the dirtied antlers. "We don't sell many finished antler pens at my company; a couple personalized batches each year. I enjoy the process, but it's more of a hobby than a savvy business move. I can set you up with a pen-making kit; we sell plenty of those. You carve the antlers with a saw, and you need a lathe. Ever used one of those?"

"No, sir." Leadly's bright-eyed energy seemed to relax everyone- His dad, Hadley, and Leadly himself. Dale scratched his arm, avoiding face to face contact until he caught his breath. But when he did, he met Leadly eye to eye. "I'd love the opportunity to work with you. Can you teach me how to saw?"

The best opportunities in life hail from networking. For a Dimmadome, hunting with the Leadly family is never just about the hunt.

3. Addition

"That fits you pretty good," Hadley told him, looking his camo outfit up and down. Dale pulled his mouth from the waterfall just enough to see her reflection in the stream. Well… He tried to, at least, though water dribbled down his hair and stung his eyes. At least it tasted clean and fresh. It hadn't been this way underground. Stinky or salty- Those were your two options in the Dimmsdale tunnels. You always pick stinky if you can't take fresh. Dale blinked, wiping splatters off his cheeks.

"Oh, yeah… Your dad gave this to me. Don't you have a brother?"

"Yeah, two older ones." Hadley moved closer, reaching out to touch a wrinkle in his hat. "I'm glad you're putting it to use. My dad wanted to throw it all away."

"It fits great. I'm low on clothes right now."

"Do you want more? I mean, if you're going to use them, I can get them for you. They'd just get tossed if my dad gets his hands on them."

"… Okay. That sounds nice."

4. Numerous

"Oh, she was serious," Dale realized when the summer meet-up rolled around. Not much changed with Dimmsdale's traditions, evidently- The Fancy Schmancy Country Club had hosted this picnic every year since before he was born. Up on the hill, he had a pretty good view of Mr. Leadly's truck idling on the other side of the fence. He, Hadley, and Hadley's older sister - Harper - were unloading cardboard boxes of stuff from the back… and even from up here, Dale could read the giant labels. He set the plate aside and sprinted down to join them. Hadley, a huge box in hand, lurched back from the truck on wobbly legs. She'd dressed in pencil colors for this, just like her dad, but a desktop drinky bird would've fit the moment better.

"Whoa, whoa-"

"I got it." Dale caught the box's edge. He must've been too quiet running up, though, because Hadley jumped. The box slipped from her fingertips. Oops. Dale grabbed the corner and helped it down more gently. No damaged goods today. "Are these all clothes for me?" That's what the Sharpie scrawled across the side said. "No way… Is all this from your brothers?"

"Sure is! I collect stuff! It's a whole thing." Hadley thumped a second box on the ground, then flipped attention to Dale with a wolf-bite grin. "I've kept it for years because I wanted to wear it someday, but I don't think it'll ever fit. They're my half-brothers, and my mom's first husband was way taller. It shows. If the hunting gear fit you, everything here should too."

Dale tilted his head. April sunlight had washed away a long time ago; he wasn't fresh from the underground anymore. These days, the air tasted like ocean, bug spray, and water melon. He'd stocked his closet with enough outfits to get by (You could thank his dad's assistant for that). But everything she'd bought looked slick and classy… Lots of black, white, buttons, and shiny cufflinks. Bowties, too. Hadley'd worn a huge white bow on her chest for as long as Dale could remember, so she must be into that. Maybe I can pass mine to her sometime; fair exchange.

Or he could try to sell them off. Make some extra cash. That wouldn't be a bad idea, especially since Dad wouldn't let him have a credit card (even though he turned 16 back in May). If Dad disappeared someday like Mom had - so Dad claimed - then keeping his own cash on hand might be a lifesaver. The precariously perched Dimmsdale estate sat on a cliff out by the ocean, so… running back to Dad to ask for spare change wasn't super practical on a shopping day.

He'd probably make a mess if he pried the boxes open here on the sidewalk, but he could see an embroidered rocket peeking through the folded lid. His heart beat a little faster. I've NEVER had rocket clothes before…

"Thanks. Really. I'll put this stuff to use."

5. Reign

Okay, he'd admit it… Hadley reigned supreme in anime trivia. Still, she had NOTHING on his Crash Nebula know-how.

"You'd like my friend Timmy," she said, tossing her head in a laugh. "I think he won a Crash Nebula trivia contest on live TV or something? I should ask him!"

"Hey, any friend of Timmy's is a friend of mine." When he showed Dale his room, he had Crimson Chin comics on the bed and a Crash Nebula video game they'd played for ages until Dad was ready to take him home. The words sounded so cliché, but they made a lot of sense.

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

[ultrakdramamama]

Choi Min-ho, Son Na-eun and romantic chemistry… Confirmed to appear in ‘Family X Melo’

Minho Choi (SHINee Minho) will be returning to the small screen with a romance drama.

Minho Choi will be appearing in JTBC's new Saturday-Sunday drama 'Family X Melo', which will be aired for the first time on August 10th. He will be playing the role of Nam Tae-pyeong, who lives his life according to his own convictions

. Nam Tae-hyung (played by Minho Choi) is a character with a my-way personality who hides his identity as the son of the president of the large corporation J Plus Mart and works two jobs as a mart security guard and a Taekwondo instructor. He will show off his various charms with his warm visuals that catch the eye as well as his easygoing and cheerful side. He will

also create a strange atmosphere when Byun Mi-rae (played by Naeun Son) finds out about his complicated family history. The two will share each other's worries and create a 'stormy romance' that goes back and forth between growth and excitement.

Moreover, Choi Min-ho challenged the suspense genre for the first time with his previous film 'New Normal', and was invited to many famous overseas film festivals including the 66th BFI London Film Festival, the 38th Warsaw Film Festival, and the 36th Leeds International Film Festival, receiving attention from all over the world for his unique side. Expectations are high for the new look he will show in this work.

'Family X Melo' is a bloody family melodrama about a father who abandoned his wife 11 years ago returning as the owner of the building. It will air on August 10th at 10:30 PM.

Choi Hee-jae (jupiter@edaily.co.kr)