#when i graduated with honors from my masters degree

[byunsole]

i never celebrated any achievement ever

[aestheticaltcow]

Wedding of the Year

Sierra and Carmy are getting married, and you and Richie play important roles in the ceremony. Of course, the two of you will find some time for some fun.

MDNI 18+

Previous Part

The Bear Masterlist

“It’s so pretty! He has surprisingly good taste,” you gushed as Sierra showed you the shiny platinum emerald-cut moissanite ring with small pearl details on both sides, creating a unique yet classic three-stone ring.

“I don’t think he picked it out himself, but I do love it- and him.” she smiled as she ran her thumb across the stones. “And now you have something to fidget with.” you cracked, elbowing her before you hopped down from the low brick wall the two of you had been sitting on during her lunch break from the hospital. Sierra rolled her eyes, “Downside, Dr. Dunlap is being a booty hole about me ‘being engaged to her ex’, like girl- he never even referred to you as his girlfriend. Pull the stick out of your butt, and let me be happy and in love.” 

You shrugged, “Well, I should probably get back to work. See you tomorrow night for dinner with your fiance.” you teased slightly. Sierra laughed and nodded, “Hey, Y/N, just to let you know… Richie is gonna be there. If we do a traditional wedding, Carmy wants him to be his best man… obviously you’re my maid of honor. It’s not gonna be like weird or anything, right?” 

You shook your head, “Sierra, I couldn’t care less about what that man thinks of me. He called me a whore like six months ago; it’s ancient fuckin’ history.”

Sierra shot you a concerned look. The shitty part about being twins was the fact she always knew when you were lying, even if you didn’t know it yourself. It had hurt when Richie called you out six months ago, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t something you’d thought about periodically here and there, but you’d do anything to make Sierra happy. She was your big sister- by 17 minutes- after all, and if that meant dealing with Richie for a few hours every so often, all be it.

~

Richie was frustrated about needing to go to your apartment that evening. Since he confronted you, he’s successfully avoided you like the plague, but when Carmy told him he proposed to Sierra, and she’d said ‘yes’, he knew he’d have to deal with you again at one point. “Let’s get this over with…” Richie mumbled to himself as he knocked on the door to your apartment. When you opened the door, you stood in awkward silence before moving to the side to allow Richie into your place. 

“Sorry about the mess.” you half-heartedly apologized as Richie removed his jacket and threw it on a small kitchen table separating the main room of your apartment and the open kitchen area. You crossed your arms over your chest as Richie looked around your apartment, “You have a Master’s degree?” he asked aloud as you moved toward your well-loved red couch. You nodded, “I’m working on my PhD in microbiology. I teach at The University of Chicago.” 

“That’s pretty badass… women in STEM and shit…” Richie awkwardly stammered as he noticed the pictures on the walls. He assumed some were science-related as they were rounded images of what he imagined were cells or something. He smiled when he noticed a picture of you and Sierra from what he presumed was high school or college graduation.

“Thanks. I’ve been told it’s impressive- but I’m also just a slut.” you rolled your eyes and moved to sit on the couch. You brought a box up from under the coffee table and waited for Richie to sit beside you.

“For what it counts- I’m sorry for calling you a slut. I have a daughter, and I-” You cut Richie off with a blunt scoff. “Fuck off with the pseudo feminism Richard. Let’s just go through these pictures and be pleasant for the sake of Sierra and Carmy.” 

Richie sighed, “Okay.”

Neither of you was sure how you’d gotten into this predicament. You’d gone from being at each other’s throats and looking through Sierra-provided/approved photos for some wedding slideshow to Richie being in your throat. Now you were laid back on the couch while Richie ran his tongue through your velvety folds. You pulled at the little hair he had as one of his slender fingers slipped inside of you, brushing places you could only dream of getting by yourself. You mewled at the sensation, bucking your hips against his mouth, desperate for more. Richie suckled at your clit, savoring the taste of your fluids. 

“F-fuck!” you exhaled as your legs shook as your orgasm had finally peaked. Richie hummed against your upper thigh before gently biting the sensitive skin just hard enough to leave a slight bruise. With that, Richie sat on your couch as you panted, attempting to catch your breath. He chuckled as he ran his hands over his mouth, wiping away the evidence of what he’d done. You moved to sit up and looked over at Richie, lustfully ready for round two, especially after noticing the lump in his boxer briefs. “Let’s go back to my room?” you whispered as you moved to rest your hand on his thigh.

Richie wanted to say ‘yes’, but when he looked at the clock, he remembered the babysitter was only booked until 10:30. He groaned and placed his hand over yours, “I want to, I really fuckin’ want to, but I gotta get home to my kid.” 

You frowned but nodded reluctantly, “It's okay.” 

~

Richie wanted you. He watched as you stood in a circle with some of the other bride’s maids; he breathed deeply as you brought your vape to your lips. Seeing your lips wrap around anything was getting him hot. “You okay there, Richie?” Pete bantered as he stood before Richie with one hand in his pocket and a cocktail in the other. Richie tilted his head to the side and waved off the man so he could continue staring at you, “Go for it.” Pete commented as he looked over his shoulder to see Richie had been starring at you. “You and Carmy could be brother-in-laws.”

You were talking to a group of your and Sierra’s high school friends when you felt a hand on your lower back. “Hey,” Richie greeted you warmly. You smiled in his direction and noticed one of your friends nudge the other before walking away. “Scarin’ my friends away old man.” you playfully teased as you turned to face Richie. 

“You look pretty…my kid is at her Mom’s place.” 

You clicked your tongue, “I don’t know Richie. Turns out Carmy has some REALLY hot friends… you’re not my only option.” 

Richie chuckled as he looked around the room, “Baby girl… they won’t fuck you right. Don’t you want a real man?” 

You felt your cheeks heat up as Richie’s hand got closer to your ass cheek, “You’re not wearin’ panties…” Richie mumbled into your ear. You playfully hit his chest, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” you teased. 

“Prove me wrong, Y/N.”

You looked around the room and ensured your parents were occupied before looping your finger around Richie’s belt, “Meet me in the bathroom…”

~

“Fuck your-” Richie grunted as he continued to thrust his hip into you, “your pussy’s fuckin’ perfect.” you met his compliment with soft mewls as your head bumped against the wall of the bathroom stall. Your dress was hiked up above your hips. Richie squeezed your thigh, pulling it up over his hips as he fucked you against the wall. You sank your nails into his neck as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. “Feel good, baby? Cum on my fuckin’ cock.” 

“Mmm, yes, Daddy.” you whimpered as his thrusts started to get sloppier and shorter—the bathroom filled with the sounds of slapping skin and both of your moans. “I’m gonna cum- uh fuckfuckfuck!”

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror fixing your lipstick as Richie zipped his pants and wiped his brow. “Wanna come over tonight?” he asked as you moved to fix your hair, you shrugged. Richie groaned, “Y/N, come on.” he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the bottom of your stomach and leaned against your back resting his chin on your shoulder. “How bout I take you out for dinner some time?” he offered moving to kiss your jaw. You giggled and put your hands over his, “When?” you quiered putting your head back against his shoulder as he moved to pepper soft open mouth kisses on your neck. 

“Whenever you’re free.” 

[gomapda]

sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 1)

this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.

side A found here!

author's note:

oh goodness. it's been a while.

i really did intend on posting this soon after i published the first part, but then life kind of got in the way. i graduated from grad school, moved to south korea, and have been here since. i'm still a carat, and i really do think about this fanfiction all the time, mainly because this story is truly me bearing my soul to the internet and my friends who have access to the original google doc.

this one is a lot less edited and looked over, but it's because this portion of the fic reminds me of something i'm still in deep grief for. so, for those of you who will read this, i was originally going to have a third installment, but i think i'll leave it at this two. it feels good and true to leave it here.

this was supposed to be published yesterday on seventeen's anni, but i was busy spending time with my korean host family who i've not been able to see that often since moving out :')

maybe i'll write short stories including these two because they are so special to me, but this main story has come to a close. the real final push was jihoon releasing "what kind of future?" officially, the very song that inspired this fic, in honor of his beautiful friend and human, moonbin. bin-ah, i hope you're sailing among the stars and looking over all of those who love you and who you love in return.

and to you, who may be reading this, thank you for being here.

✧⋆°｡☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ �� ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆｡°✧

tagging @fiantomartell since you asked me to whenever i published this. it's been a long while, but.

pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader

genre: romance, fluff

summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.

rating: 13+

length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)

tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure

inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi

inspo spotify playlist found here!

──────────────────

side b: him.

The rapid beating in his chest drowned out the slam of the door behind him as he rushed down the stairs of your home, desperate to just get away as soon as possible. Your parents weren’t home, so he didn’t have to worry about looking like an absolute fool in front of them.

You knew. You fucking knew.

You knew how much he was in love with you and this was your way of rejecting him.

He was stupid, so stupid. If he just put his feelings aside then you wouldn’t leave. You wouldn’t have to leave. But this was all his stupid hormones and brain chemistry and his fucking heart. He knew that it wouldn’t pan out. You never saw him as anything more than just a dear friend, a brother. You made that clear.

Since the beginning, your pinkies intertwined promised a forever, but you both had different ideas of what that was. And he was stupid to believe there was a chance.

He ran.

He ran so far and so hard that he couldn’t make sense of left or right or forward or backward. All he knew was that he needed to get away from you.

But he couldn’t.

He passed by Old Man Park’s home with a winding tree you were convinced held fae people that would only come out when the entire town was asleep (there was a 50km radius, you said).

He ran by the rusted bars of the playground you two snuck off to instead of going to cram school where you attempted a flip and promptly landed on the crown of your head, wood chips tangling themselves into your hair, tears mixed with laughter and pain streaming down your cheeks.

The library where you would spend more time in the children’s section than anywhere else because you would practice your ‘reading voice’ for your future children’s bedtime stories.

The baseball field where the realization that he was in love with you hit him harder than any fastball pitch ever could.

You were everywhere.

And he needed to get away.

He went to your house to share the news of passing the trainee audition, that was the whole purpose of seeing you.

However, that wasn’t the only thing he planned on confessing.

If you asked him to stay, he would have.

But instead, you rejected him before he even got one word out.

So, he packed his bags up for Seoul, a place untarnished by you. A city that not even your light could reach, no matter how radiant you were.

──────────────────

Years later.

“Jihoon-ah, aren’t you working too hard?”

He glanced up at Jeonghan who was probably let into the studio by Bumzu. Jihoon glanced at the clock to notice a bright 4:02am glaring back at him. “Ah, hyung. I didn’t even notice the time.”

“I figured. I brought you some food.”

Jihoon glanced down at the two bags in his hands. His eyes narrowed. “Hyung, I don’t eat as much as you think I do.”

“I’ve seen you eat three full meals in one sitting. Get away from your desk and we can eat.”

Jihoon sighed before he reluctantly left the seat he hardly moved from for over seven hours. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replied happily, snapping the wooden chopsticks into two. He started chewing on one of the danmuji, the sound of its crunch reverberating in the studio. “Oh. And also, the wi-fi’s down at the dorm, so.”

“So, you’re here to steal my bandwidth.”

“I brought you food. I paid my toll.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.”

“So, are you in the composing stage or the writing lyrics stage?”

“...Lyrics.”

“Hm. What are you writing about? Or rather, who are you writing about?”

Jihoon stabbed the grilled fish. “...You know who.”

“She’s really got a grip on you, huh.”

Jihoon grunted in response. Obviously.

Jeonghan continued, “I saw that one of the local newsletters interviewed the group home that she volunteers at. She was voted as volunteer of the year. Again. She smiles with her entire body. Seems like a good person.”

The younger of the two picked away at the fish, not bringing it onto his makeshift plate. “Yeah.”

“Do you still stalk her on Instagram?”

Jihoon let out a loud sigh.

“That’s a yes, then.”

“You know it’s not as bad as it used to be. I used to check, like, every few weeks, but now it’s gone down to just a couple times a year.”

“She hasn’t blocked you yet?”

“Hah. I don’t think she even knows that my account is reactivated.”

“Well, you never needed to reactivate before. Her Instagram used to be public. The rest of the members and I used to scroll through wondering how a bright girl like her could be associated with such a deadpan guy like you.”

“Wow. Thanks, hyung.”

Jeonghan merely brushed off Jihoon’s sarcasm, already used to it. “She only made it private this last year, right? Since she complains about her program being out to kill her on her story. To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t realize you’ve been watching her stories.”

“I don’t think she checks who watches her story since she has over a few thousand followers.”

“She attracts people, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she always has.”

“Can I see her profile again?”

“You’re not going to do something weird, right?”

“Ey, Jihoon-ah.”

“That makes me really not want to.”

“Ey.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes before pulling out his phone. He opened Instagram and clicked on the “Search” feature and saw your profile appear at the top without even needing to type anything. He signaled for Jeonghan to scoot down the couch so he could sit down and handle the phone in his own hands. Jeonghan peered over his shoulder as he scrolled through your profile.

“Oh, is that Japan?”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon clicked on your post.

But it wasn’t opening.

So, he clicked again. And then again.

And his phone decided to catch up with his thumb’s movements.

The once white heart was now red.

His grip loosened on the device of betrayal and it clattered to the ground. “Oh shit.”

Jeonghan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. He placed his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I’m sorry, but. This is karma for not letting me see her profile on my own.”

“Hyung. Hyung. What should I do?”

“Just unlike it? I’m pretty sure that Instagram doesn’t send a notification as long as you unlike it before she sees it.”

“How do you know?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Jihoon. It’s not the end of the world if she happens to see it. If she blocks you, then you know, and you end up writing another heartbreak masterpiece—” Jihoon couldn’t even appreciate the comment. “—but. Who knows what’ll happen?”

“...”

“Uh. I’ll just… do it for you, then.”

Jeonghan picked up the phone, facing the screen towards Jihoon, the camera scanning his frozen features to unlock and Jeonghan tapped the red heart to empty it again. He placed the phone back on the younger man’s thigh, but Jihoon remained in the same position as earlier, eyes glazed.

“Jihoon-ah.”

“Hyung.”

“Let’s just wait, yeah? The food’s getting cold. So, let’s finish eating.”

“...Okay.”

──────────────────

Jihoon picked at the rice bowl in front of him, his mind light years away, chest filled with concern for the future. Was auditioning for a company worth it? Even if he started the process now, wouldn’t it still take a while to even hear back?

“Jihoonie.”

His heart constricted once he heard the voice of the person who made him unsure. He caught you blinking owlishly at him. “Y/N.”

“Hrmm. You seem quite a bit down, my friend. You’ve barely touched your first bowl of rice. It’s concerning.”

“Just thinking.”

“Oh, don’t do that. We know that usually ends badly for people.”

“Well, someone between the two of us has to have brain cells.”

“I pride myself in simultaneously never thinking and also being the top student of our school.”

“You work miracles, Y/N.”

“Hey, now I know you’re down because you didn’t call me a flipping nerd. Your best moods are usually accompanied by your worst words.”

“You make me seem like an asshole. You slander me to other people, don’t you?”

“Of course. I can’t have them know just how utterly wonderful and fantastic you are. I’d rather you have that butthole reputation if I get to keep my best friend all to myself. I’m a selfish lady, you know.”

Did you even know how much your words affected him?

“You’re neither selfish nor a lady.”

“Oh, but I am. I’m a selfish lady who’s only checking on you because I refuse to be wrought with worry for the rest of the day. So, come on, Jihoonie. Let’s go play darts.”

“Last time we played you almost stabbed my hand.”

“Your fault for reaching for the board when I was about to own you. Come on. Let’s go. I’ll make a pinky promise with you.”

Jihoon snorted. “Of what?”

“I promise to do whatever you want if you win.”

Jihoon scrunched up his nose in response. You were always so naive with him, trusting him wholly. But a part of him was grateful that you did. He merely sighed and stood up.

He might as well use your promise to his advantage.

──────────────────

“She didn’t block me.”

“Oh, really?” Jeonghan glanced up at Jihoon who suddenly broke the silence.

“Who’s she?” Soonyoung’s ears perked up.

“You know. His firefly,” Jeonghan replied.

“What? Why would she block you?” Seungkwan directed his question at Jihoon, who was simply trying to edit lyrics in his own studio, which was being occupied by several SEVENTEEN members.

“Jihoon accidentally liked one of her posts last night, but we unliked it. Oh, sorry. I unliked it because he was completely frozen.”

“The notification probably didn’t go through,” Seungkwan supplied. “I’m pretty sure unliking a post makes the notification go away.”

Jihoon had set his phone aside earlier in hopes of not constantly checking it. His mind may be unsteady, but he was always self-disciplined.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Soonyoung glance down at his own phone screen that buzzed a second prior.

“Oh. Jihoon-ah, she liked one of your posts.”

Before his mind could even catch up, Jihoon flung himself to his phone, his self-discipline be damned. He frantically clicked on the notification and it redirected him to his Instagram page, where he saw your name among the list of likers. He wasn’t sure whether his heart was racing or whether it stopped completely because the buzzing in his ears overtook all of his other senses.

He even ignored the boys’ laughter around him.

“Is… Is social media actually facilitating real connection right now? Are we about to prove all of the ahjussi and ahjumma wrong? Are we about to witness history?”

“Seungkwan-ah.”

“Sorry, Jeonghan-hyung.”

“She… She didn’t block me. She saw me. What is this? What do I do? Do I just ignore it? Or should I let her know I saw it?”

Soonyoung snorted. “Yah, I’ve never seen Jihoon this nervous for any performance ever.”

“His heart’s probably racing more than it did the Golden Disc Awards.”

“WHAT DO I DO.”

“Jihoon-hyung,” Seungkwan started. “I think the first thing you need to do is breathe.”

So, he did. In. Out. In. Out.

After what seemed like years, Soonyoung spoke up. “So… Are you gonna message her?”

Jihoon sat in contemplation for a moment before he decidedly shook his head. “No. It’s time to write a song.”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows rose at that. “You’re gonna go back to work after all of this?”

Jihoon bit his lip. “No. This is gonna be a solo song.”

The corners of Jeonghan’s lips curled up at his dongsaeng. “I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”

Jihoon nodded almost mindlessly.

Everything about her usually is.

──────────────────

“Jihoonie~ Wake up~”

He groaned loudly under the bed covers.

He heard you snicker, the only warning before you landed with a loud thump as he let out an “oof!” from beneath you.

“Get off me. You weigh like a million pounds.”

Rather than listening, you spread your limbs and trapped the adolescent boy beneath you, nuzzling further into the outer casing of his cocoon. “Nope. Just yesterday you yelled at me for not eating enough when you flung me off of the couch by accident because I stole the remote. So.”

“I’m suffocating. You’re killing your best friend.”

“Oh, but to die with a beautiful girl on top of you, isn’t that the way to go?”

There was a moment of silence where Jihoon contemplated catapulting your entire being off of his bed before, “Pretty sure that’s your dream, you damn pervert,” came his muffled reply.

“Huh. You might be right there.”

“Get! Off!”

His hand easily found your weak point between your first and second rib and you cried out as you toppled down onto his bedroom floor. He emerged from the confines of his sheets with hair sticking up every which way.

You grinned lazily up at his disheveled state and he glared right back at you. “Why are you in my bedroom?”

“Because your mom said to come and get you! We’re going to Muju today, remember? In time for the Firefly Festival!”

“Right. It’s your yearly family reunion.”

“Yes, I will become one with the bugs. My fursona will arise again. Or is it bugsona?”

“Is a buggy better than a furry?”

“You’re asking me to choose between two evils, my dear Jihoonie. Come on, get up. I’m excited to spend an entire weekend with our family.”

It was way too early for his mind to whirr as fast as it did at the simple implication of ‘our’. “Alright, firefly. Get out of my room so I can get ready.”

“Okay! I’ll go help Mama downstairs.”

You were committed to calling Jihoon’s mom as Mama instead of Eomma, as the latter held a tone for you that was nothing less than stressful.

Jihoon smiled at your joy, but stopped when he noticed you freeze in place. “...What?”

You shifted the weight in your feet before speaking. “Mm. Just had a thought. With a smile like yours, who would ever need the summertime?”

You grinned at him while his heart stopped. You always spoke without a care in the world; never carefully crafting your thoughts before speaking them aloud. You were spontaneous. Wild, even. Sometimes it ended with you in some kind of trouble, while other times, like this one, ended with him in trouble instead.

You scurried out of his room before he could respond.

He released a dragged out sigh as he felt his cheeks warm.

Forget summertime.

He wondered whether the earth could be sustained through all of the seasons at the sheer brilliance of your smile.

But he ought to thank the summertime.

Because it meant, every year, without fail, he would wake up to you, he would smell the breakfast you helped his mother cook, he would hop on a plane to travel to a different province and see the night sky alight with hundreds of fireflies, your face aglow with soft awe and wonder.

Yeah.

He needed the summertime.

──────────────────

“What? Jihoon-hyung is talking to the girl that just upped and left him and fled the country?”

“Chan-ah, your wording needs work,” Seungcheol chastised. The other members that were near enough to hear nodded, while others were distracted by their own activities.

Jihoon buried his face in his hands. “Eugh, I don’t even know anymore. It’s not like we’re actually talking; she just reliked one of my posts. It’s like, she went back and let me know that she saw me. But is that supposed to be a warning? Is it supposed to be a white flag?”

The youngest member of SEVENTEEN shrugged. “Hyung, I think that you’re putting a lot of meaning behind something that was just a small gesture.”

“Nah, Chan,” Seungcheol interjected. “Jihoon has been in love with this girl since he was a kid. This is more than just a small gesture, after what she did to him.”

Wonwoo spoke up. “Hey, don’t forget Jihoon was the one who left Busan first.”

The accused groaned.

“Wonwoo, you’re just biased towards her because you think that she and Jihoon would make a good couple and you believe in an ideal love.”

“Hyung, I just think that if Jihoon can write what he writes about her, there’s something there.”

“You romanticist.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Jihoon-ah, I think you’ve tried to reach her with your words time and time again, but maybe it was never made clear that she was the one it was for. You mentioned that she really thought you were in love with your noona—” Jihoon grimaced at the memory. “—so, maybe she’s just unaware.”

“She can’t be that oblivious,” Soonyoung interrupted. Jihoon knew Soonyoung was almost fiercely protective over him because he was the one who witnessed Jihoon’s aftermath firsthand. Soonyoung may be over-the-top some days, but whenever Jihoon needed it, he would help ground him.

Wonwoo’s eyes flicked between the two of his fellow 96ers. “We were all kids once, Soonyoung. We were all so focused on ourselves we couldn’t really see what was happening around us.”

Soonyoung pursed his lips. “...I guess. Jihoon, what do you think?”

Jihoon stared at his hands. “Does it matter whether she knew back then or not?”

They all collectively raised a brow.

“Whattaya mean?” Seungcheol asked.

“I can make a ton of assumptions about her. That she was actually in love with me and was scared. That she was rejecting me in her own cruel, yet kind, way. That she had no idea and the timing was just completely off. But all of that, I don’t actually know. All I do know is that… I want to see her. And not just from afar anymore. But part of me also hates her. But all of me misses her. I don’t know. I guess I’m just too stupid to figure this out.”

A heavy silence passed over the group.

Soonyoung broke it. “If you’re stupid, then I’m the biggest idiot on this planet.”

“That’s not comforting, that’s just a fact.”

“Hoon, you wound me.”

──────────────────

Award shows were weird.

At first, everything was an out-of-body experience for him and could barely process what was happening. He even couldn’t believe that he and his twelve members managed to earn their matching pinky rings and the right to produce and perform, let alone be nominated for an award. When they went on the stage, they did their best to be as refreshing of idols as they could be.

But it was much more daunting than they were used to.

Their debut year went by, and although there were many nominations, they remained only that.

In middle school, he would often tell you that you had a strange fixation on being number one in your graduating class. He said that he didn’t get it, that being in the top 5 was already something that was admirable.

He would never forget the look you gave him when you said, “One day, you’ll know what it’s like. You’ll know what it’s like to almost have something and then not. It’s the kind of feeling that eats away at you, Jihoon. The feeling of, ‘But what if I did more?’”

He merely rolled his eyes and called you dramatic.

That is, until he experienced it firsthand.

The first time ever was when he was doing a music competition for clarinet and compared himself to his bandmate, who received several achievements while Jihoon found that he simply didn’t have the body to be able to hold the same lung capacity.

Then he felt it: that driving force.

You both pushed yourselves further, to higher heights.

And it ended with him sick and bedridden.

And you, heartbroken and unsure of life.

The two of you would reprimand each other for trying too hard, but even with accountability, that envy, that desire for an indisputable win, that fear of failure, would still sneak its way into you both. You, with your academics. Him, with his musical endeavors.

For several years after their debut, at award shows, Jihoon would clap, the rhythmic beating of his hands echoing that in his chest, his smile lined with bitterness, his ears rang with the whispered voices.

‘Those people didn’t deserve it. You worked so much harder. These people don’t even produce their own music. Or maybe it’s because they have real producers and composers, unlike you. Who are you to think you deserve that award?’

One night, after another show of no wins, he collapsed onto his bed, unlocking his phone, intent on watching an anime episode before falling asleep. His members were discouraged and no one wanted to discuss what more they could even do.

Even if they did everything right, maybe it still would never be good enough.

When he opened up the YouTube app on his phone, he saw a recommended video. Your name written out in English caught his eye and he realized it was Part II of a podcast you had done with the channel before. It was a Korean-American podcast and you would share your experiences in the Korean language, connecting with your culture despite being in a foreign country.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he clicked on it, hoping to find comfort in a person he always had, in someone he probably always would.

Several minutes in and he realized just how thick that red string must be between the two of you.

“You know, I thought I undid a lot of my perfectionism before coming to college. Korea is the birthplace of comparison and pressure, I’m sure of it. It was ingrained into me from childhood. So, I did what I could. I got out. Learned to broaden my horizons. But when you attend a school like Yale, your environment really just kinda forces you to be perfect just so that you can survive. Because if you’re not, then you’re cut.”

He thought back to his trainee days.

To his current days.

How similar.

“I remember being at an event where we were being presented awards for our achievements. I remember that I was in the running for one of them, and I won’t say which one so this doesn’t come back to bite me. But at this one event, I remember no other guests were invited, only the nominees and peers in the same field. And when they announced the winner, everyone applauded, of course. However, I won’t ever forget the sight that I saw.”

You chewed on your lips, gazing upward trying to find the right words to say, a habit you’ve had for years.

“The winner had the biggest grin on their face, proud of themselves, as they are allowed to be. But when they turned back to the crowd? I think they saw something. I think they saw that our smiles were forced, that we were judging them, judging ourselves, trying to determine whether they actually deserved the recognition or whether we should have been the ones to win. And… their smile faltered. It was quick, but it was noticeable. And I think the only reason why it even faltered was because it was only those of us who were nominated or could have been. Like, it’s easy to cheer on someone for a prize that you didn’t want, but as soon as you have stakes in the game? Well. That’s a whole different story. But when they lost that smile, it felt like something shattered.”

Your eyes welled up with tears, but they didn’t fall.

“They say it’s lonely at the top. I haven’t been there in a long time, but. I don’t even know if that’s where I want to be. These people have done super cool things, and who’s to say that I would’ve gotten the same results if I had tried? And maybe, maybe they have enough competitors. Maybe they need someone who celebrates them. Someone who knows the hardships of working in this field. And maybe that’s what I can do. I just want to do what I love and what I love doing is social work. Celebrating other people. Learning their stories. Not saving the world, but trying to make it into one that might be worth saving. If I happen to get recognized because of doing those things and they give some kind of trophy for it, then alright. But that’s just a byproduct of the greatest award I’ve already given myself, which is just letting myself do what I love.”

And those were words he carried with him as he went to bed that night. 

When they won their first award. Their first Bonsang. Their first Daesang.

Award shows were weird.

It was all about performance.

Performing on stage, prepped through sound-check, clean-cut choreography, and pre-recorded live vocals to grab the audience’s attention.

Performing when at their designated table, giving reactions at a timely rate for both the fancams and large screen cameras.

Performing when behind the stage, being the best hoobae or sunbae they needed to be, adapting to whatever situation they may be placed in.

He knew how to perform. He was good at it.

It was why he’s in this industry.

But there are some things that don’t warrant worrying about an audience.

As he watched the seven members of BTS walk towards the stage, reaching for their Daesang. He clapped to match the rhythm in his chest, sure and steady, at ease. His smile, genuine and wide. The voice in his head, not unlike yours mixed with his own, provided gentle comfort.

‘They deserved it. They worked hard, just like you did. Their ability to collaborate with other musicians is astounding. It would be an honor to work with them. And you, too, have won, you’ve given yourself the greatest award by continuing to do what you love.’

──────────────────

Jihoon once again found himself at the recording studio, however, at a more reasonable time. He was trying to finalize all of the details on the songs for their comeback album, so he was spending his days in the recording studio and ending it in the dance studio, fully exhausted to where he would only have enough energy to shower and trudge back to his bedroom, just to pass out on his bed.

He heard the door to his room open but didn’t make an effort to turn around.

“How’s the song coming along?”

“The album is nearly complete—”

“No, the solo one.”

Jihoon finally glanced up at Seungcheol who now stood beside him. “I haven’t had as much time to work on it. Why?”

“No, I just wanted to check in with you.”

“You’re a good leader, hyung,” he said quietly.

Seungcheol clicked his tongue. “Of course, I am. But I’m mostly just curious because you’ve never written a song about her specifically that only had you singing it.”

“…that’s not true.”

“What? Which one?”

“The first song I ever wrote.”

“Oh what? What was it?”

Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s an old song that I think only I remember anyway, plus, I only had vocals at the time. No instruments or anything.”

“…huh. What was it about?”

──────────────────

You wiped your snot away from your face, unable to differentiate between mucus and tears. Your unrelenting sobs weakened to light shudders.

His voice carried from above you, his hand entangled in your messy knots as he rubbed soothing circles against your temple. You curled yourself further into the tear-stained pillow he so lovingly dubbed, “Y/N’s Breakdown Headrest” which also doubled as “Y/N’s Punching Bag” when your emotions were forged from fire and not a dam that couldn’t hold anymore of the taunts and cruelty from your own parents.

His thigh was a mere hair’s breadth away from grazing the top of your head. He had a tendency to bounce his leg, one you continuously called him out on, but he wouldn’t ever stop his bad habit.

That is, unless you needed him to.

And he always gave you what you needed.

So, he sang to you a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.

──────────────────

Jihoon paused, wondering how you comforted yourself now, wondering if you now had a Breakdown Headrest 2.0, before he spoke again. “It’s about what all the songs I write are about. Love. Although, more lowkey, not as direct.”

“Love and her are synonymous to you, aren’t they?”

“She’s the one who taught me most of it,” Jihoon said nonchalantly. “A truly honest and genuine form of it.”

“Wow, how romantic of you,” Seungcheol laughed.

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you know I only have the patience to tolerate all of you guys because of her. She believes it’s her divine mission to be as annoying as possible.”

“She sounds terrifying.”

“Yeah, she’s taught me how to be patient and remain calm. But she was also incredibly patient with me. Honestly, it feels like all the things that make me likable are all from her.”

Seungcheol made a “oOooOooOOOooOOooo~” noise before Jihoon got fed up and kicked him out. Of course, his reprieve was short lived as more and more members flocked into his room, a constant moving traffic of his twelve brothers.

He imagined you meeting them.

With Seungcheol, you would probably tease him relentlessly, trying to come up with new names for the S. Coups game, while also thanking him for being so protective and steadfast, praising him for his taste in emo music and asking him to sing My Chemical Romance with you.

With Jeonghan, you both would sneak off to devise plans on how to create chaotic dynamics in between the members and cause more infighting while eating stolen snacks or spend hours just sitting around, doing fuck all, because why not.

With Jisoo, you both would speak in English (with you affectionately calling him by his English name “Joshua!”), sharing music as well as probably arguing between Los Angeles and New York, since that was a common feud topic Jisoo brought up.

With Jun, you would try to get as many reactions out of him as possible or get him to write down the list of all of the authentic Chinese restaurants around Korea or you would sit with him at a piano and watch as he played OSTs to Chinese dramas, applauding all the while starry-eyed.

With Soonyoung, you both would either be each other’s soulmates or the banes of each others’ existence, both fiery and passionate; however, you were always good at matching the energies of those around you, so you would let him ebb and flow while you merely followed, likely to call him, “Hoshingi,” just as Jeonghan does, and you would probably love caring for him the same way you did with elementary school students.

With Wonwoo, you would watch him play his PC games, probably in awe of his prowess or you would discuss lyricism and poetry, both exchanging flowery words for no reason as you would try to pick his brain as to what really lies beneath the surface, whether he truly is as straightforward as he seems, and be intensely satisfied that he simply is as he is.

With Seokmin, likely to sweetly call him “DK~”, you would ask him to sing for you since you loved Broadway style voices, and since you both were so generous with your kindness, there would be no doubt that the two of you would somehow manage to start up a non-profit that manages to eradicate all the bad in the world.

With Mingyu, you would discuss filming and the latest movies to watch and you would ask him how he finds the motivation to do many different hobbies at once especially when busy with being an idol; you would probably try to trick him into listening to you tell ghost stories as if they happened to you.

With Minghao, you would share your favorite poets and philosophical ideas, sharing the life lessons that you two have learned and realized you managed to hack life’s code at a younger age than most, you both realized the real importance of being alive: contentment and love.

With Seungkwan, you would probably be laughing so hard at his wit that you wouldn’t have much time to breathe, you would try to figure out how exactly he managed to memorize so much information surrounding K-Pop and why exactly he was so passionate about it or if neither of those, you would ask him if he could get you the plug for those Jeju hallabong oranges.

With Hansol, you would call him “Vernonz,” since you loved names that began with the letters V and Z, and ask him about his parents once you found out they were both artists, and you two would definitely discuss the effects of late-stage capitalism and social media on humanity.

With Chan, you would do your best not to baby him, but you hold a lot of fondness for those younger than you, you would try to figure out how he is so particular about his attention to detail and whether it is something that is pressuring him (and if there was some way you could alleviate it).

He imagined you there, integrated into his life again. He imagined you showing authentic interest in every one of his precious members, unlike most interviewers they would be forced to interact with every comeback. You would learn all of their names, find out their favorite foods, the best way to make everyone collectively laugh, and ultimately, how to help all of them feel comfortable around you and inevitably love you.

And once they did, he could say that his most beloved people were finally all together.

He fell in love with you, but you’re the one who taught him how to walk into it with his eyes wide open. So, he did it with his members. It took practice, having to actively choose them. With you, it may have always been a choice, but it was as natural as breathing, even if there were times he felt like he was being suffocated (or wanted to suffocate you).

He remembered the first time he became aware of it. Most people talk about how love comes, there was always talk about rose-tinted glasses and how it softened the world around them, unable to forget the brilliant smile on their face, but no. You always shattered expectations.

From anyone else’s standards, his realization came at an inopportune time. But it was so clear. It wasn’t as though you had sparkles around you as you emitted a warm glow, it wasn’t as though your hair was perfectly touched up with no strand out of place, it wasn’t as though you were perfectly dolled-up with eyes lined and lips colored. No. It was just… you.

And that's when he knew.

Because there was no filter to block the sheer clarity he was hit with when he finally accepted he was in love with you.

──────────────────

When Jihoon saw your crying form, a slurry of words filled with concern and instructions were the only thing leaving his mouth as he packed his things up. He only deviated once he gave a quick farewell to his noona who left with her dad.

Jihoon bit his lip. Would you be okay? Maybe he’ll just rush home now and shower then call you later at night. Or maybe he should go prepare his bedroom if you decide to visit. Yes. He should do that.

Jihoon turned on his heel to make his way back home, his newfound mission resounding in his mind.

However, your cousin’s voice reached his ears, “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”

He looked back at him, saw the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly. His fist clenched, the baseball preventing his nails from biting into his palms. He spun it once. Twice. And up into the air.

“Here, firefly.”

You caught it by instinct.

Your gaze met his.

He felt his heart ache at the sheer brokenness apparent in your eyes, rimmed with red and puffed skin. He grit his teeth. He hasn’t seen you cry this hard since the day your parents told you that your number two class ranking was nothing to be proud of and that they expected more from you.

His jaw clenched so hard, he heard an audible bite.

“Why are you giving me this?”

Your voice sounded so soft, like a child. A visceral instinct within him wanting to lull you into a peaceful rest with a lullaby.

But he wouldn’t do that.

Because that would be embarrassing.

(That was a future Jihoon problem.)

“It’s your win today.”

He much preferred the look of confusion on your face to the look of agony you held just a few moments ago.

“Huh?”

He swallowed thickly, his brain unable to keep up with the words tumbling from his mouth. “Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”

Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was probably much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands, unlike his.

You sniffled.

A soft smile formed on your lips.

And Jihoon realized he preferred that look on your face than any other he’s seen.

Pretty.

He rapidly turned on his heel before he even gave a second to try and unpack that thought.

The weight of his baseball gear was really doing a number on his heart, he realized belatedly.

That night, he didn’t prepare his room. He didn’t even call you.

(Not that you reached out.)

He merely stared up at his ceiling, his heart in a constant flux of rapidly beating or stopping completely.

He groaned loudly as he played through the day’s earlier events, thinking himself stupid for giving you a fucking baseball. You don’t even like sports. Did he think he sounded cool when he said all of that cringey stuff?

It’s your win?

But despite the feeling of wanting to curl in on himself, he couldn’t help but still agree with his earlier self.

You did win his heart, after all.

(He threw his pillow at the wall.)

──────────────────

“You’ve been liking her posts more easily.”

Jihoon merely grunted as he tapped away at his computer, Soonyoung on the couch beside him. “I decided to just… stop overthinking. Well, more like just stop thinking in general. I’m too tired to try and pretend I’m smarter than I actually am.”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. “You got it bad for her.”

Jihoon glared at him, who was scrolling through his (Jihoon’s) phone. “Be careful what you say. For the amount of songs that are about her, she covers basically 60% of your salary.”

Soonyoung laughed. “Guess I owe her a lot, huh? If she didn’t up and leave, you wouldn’t have come here and we would’ve never met. So, I guess I’m grateful to her. Plus. She’s cute.”

“She’s more than that.”

“Yeah. I can tell,” Soonyoung went quiet for a moment. “She… A part of me really doesn’t want to trust her. I keep remembering that day, you know. Where you just… didn’t seem like yourself. Barely there—” Jihoon cringed at the recalled memory. “—but she also just seems so genuine that it makes it hard. I want to be your bro, you know? Bro code and all—”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“—And I’m nothing if not a bro. But I don’t think you’re the type of person to be hung up on someone who’s not trustworthy. Like. You lose interest in people easily if you don’t see them on a regular basis. But her? It’s been years, bro.”

“Okay, bro.”

“Just letting you know I support you in your decisions,” Soonyoung stated, but there was an edge to his voice that sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than Jihoon. “If she’s really who you say she is. If she’s the one who’s captured that stubborn heart of yours. Then I’ll do everything I can to help you out—Oh, she posted again. Wow. She posts often and yet still gets over a thousand likes. It hasn’t even been a day. Oh wow!”

Jihoon twitched but tried not to show his eagerness. “What?”

“They’re doing a donation drive for the group home that she works with. Ey, how can someone who does volunteer work to help kids and teens be a bad person? Jihoon, are you kidding me?”

“Young-ah, you’re the one who said it, not me—”

“So close-minded, Hoon.”

Jihoon rolled his computer chair over to Soonyoung, snatched his phone back, and smacked the annoying gnat’s hand in the process. Soonyoung yelped in pain, but laughed it off. He saw your post (noticed that Soonyoung ‘liked it for him’) and a figurative lightbulb lit up over his overworked head.

“This looks like something Bumzu-hyung would post on his story. Maybe I can ask him to share it. Oh, but this is her private page. Oh wait. She tagged the group home.”

“Thanks for the play-by-play.”

Jihoon ignored him and clicked the profile to see they had the exact same e-flyer post. But he knew that you’d probably notice there was an influx of donations (hardly anything got by you) and he didn’t want to bombard you with unsolicited help.

But it’s for a good cause!

But he might be trespassing on her territory.

Everyone cares about youth and kids!

This group home wouldn’t have even caught his eye had it not been for you.

He groaned inwardly. “I don’t know whether I should ask Bumzu to reshare or what—”

“Dude, just ask her if you can share it and then wait for her reply. It’s not like there’s only a one day donation thing.”

Jihoon blinked at Soonyoung. “You’re right.”

Soonyoung immediately sat up straighter, pulling out his own phone from his pocket. He opened up his voice memo app. “Say that again, I need to record that so I can set it as my ringtone.”

Soonyoung pressed the Record button, extended his phone receiver to Jihoon, who leaned in promptly and said:

“Fuck off, Kwon Soonyoung.”

──────────────────

“Kwon Soonyoung, what the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean? It’s not like I planned this.”

Jihoon glared at the boy before him who was somehow wearing matching clothes again. He specifically came home after rehearsal to change into something different and yet, here he was, matching with this endless energy ball. Jihoon specifically changed out of his all-black garment to choose a long, plain blue button-down overshirt and ripped, dark jeans. Something different from his usual style of a t-shirt and shorts.

Yet, there Soonyoung was, in nearly the same outfit, minus the overshirt being a blue flannel.

���I think this just means that we’re soulmates, Jihoon-ah.”

Jihoon pulled back his fist as if to hit Soonyoung, but the latter didn’t flinch at all, only laughed at the expense of his friend. The other members were downstairs waiting for them so Jihoon didn’t have enough time to change out of the outfit. And it felt almost ridiculous to give this more attention than it deserves, as if he was losing by admitting that it bothered him to the point of needing to change clothes.

But Kwon Soonyoung, the man that he was, would not let him live it down.

“Wow, we look like a couple. We should go on dates, huh? Get some sushi or–ack!”

The shorter of the two pressed his foot against the back of the other’s knee and Soonyoung nearly came crashing down had it not been for his instincts to catch himself.

Jihoon huffed down the stairs, shaking his head at the situation and readying himself to be made fun of by his members. Once he got through that door, it was game over.

And he was right.

Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Dino were the ones who rallied the rest of the group to heckle, which only added insult to injury, as those three were the ones who had the longest rap sheet to make fun of. Jihoon kept his disgusted face on as Soonyoung wrapped his arms around his shoulders, announcing to (what seemed like) the world about how he’s ‘matching with his best friend.’

Jihoon came back with a slew of half-hearted insults at the rest of his members, but they unfortunately outnumbered him. He is rarely on the receiving end of this level of teasing, but he was dragged into it thanks to Soonyoung, who was eating it up.

Even in the midst of it all, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel thankful that he even had someone to accidentally match with who would wear it with such pride and not shy away from it. Sure, it might seem dumb and annoying, but it reminded him that he could have that kind of playful relationship with others outside of you. He had other friends in school or at baseball, sure, but none were as comfortable, as relentlessly fun. He thought there would never be another you.

And there never was, but that feeling of acceptance, of joy, of gratitude.

He was able to find it outside of you.

Which was a heartbreaking realization before, but now he only hopes you’ve done the same.

And mere hours after his own outfit debacle, Jihoon sees your instagram story to find you accidentally matching with Hyejin, her making the same face that he did not too long ago. But you had a shit-eating grin, no doubt proud of causing a disruption in your friend’s life.

Your caption read: “oh, you and your soulmate are tied by a single, red thread? that’s nothing compared to the matching threads we got on right now. eat your heart out, makoto shinkai.”

Beneath it in smaller letters: “if you can’t tell by her face, this was not planned at all, but man, am i really rolling with it.”

Jihoon snorted at the serendipity of it all.

Perhaps the string of fate really isn’t just a single thread.

──────────────────

It was a rare day in which Jihoon found himself at home.

Which meant he had a lot of time to think about you.

(You replied to him. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. But he was, pleasantly so. Of course, it included a thumbs up emoji which was the visual manifestation of the acquaintance zone, but he would take what he could get.)

Album preparations were underway, and although there is a part of him that feels as though he should be scrambling, especially as their anniversary date was literally tomorrow, he thought back to a voice from his youth.

Years ago, he laid in his childhood bed, struck with a nasty fever from pushing his immune system too far by attempting to balance school and various music competitions. There was a half-asleep you, exhausted by misplaced guilt, with your fingers intertwined with his, who said: Jihoonie, Koreans always say ‘fighting’. I told you that this morning, and I knew you weren’t feeling well. I could’ve stopped you. And now here you are. I said ‘fighting,’ but why? Why do we have to fight? Life isn’t a battle to win. You don’t have to overcome anything, okay? You can just lay here and be with me. Please don’t get sick again. Please remember to rest. Some days, it’s okay to just be.

So, here he was. Simply being.

Whenever massive events (like SEVENTEEN’s six year anniversary) happened, he made sure to spend the 24 hours prior doing nothing than just being, to gain enough energy to last the following day.

Otherwise, the nagging guilt would get to him.

You were always weaving stories with even the thinnest of threads. Your knack for adding dramatic flair, amping it up to eleven, was a nightmare sometimes. For example, when he got sick and you kept repeating that you should’ve said something instead of letting him go on stage only to nearly faint afterwards. You took on too much responsibility for things outside of your control, which only caused you to lose your grip on what you actually could.

His chest tightened at the thought of you losing your grip completely. There were very few things in life that terrified him, but you potentially ending yours was one that plagued him until he learned how to remain steady when you were feeling unsure, and even still, it tore him up inside. But he knew that it wasn’t his battle to face; he wasn’t meant to save you. You reminded him of that time and time again, so instead, he learned how to let you live the life you weren’t sure you wanted. He observed warily.

As a teenager, he knew just how bad these thoughts could get for people at that age. He knew how people fell prey to the lies that they were unworthy of life and love.

So, he simply tried to be as honest as possible. He would do his best to not invalidate your experience, but he refused to enable those insidious feelings. He would come off as abrasive, he was sure, but your ability to detect bullshit was like no other. Your parents had a big hand in that. So, instead, he was truthful in his own way, in his own language, one that you learned to understand.

A few years ago, you did a two-part YouTube podcast at Yale. The first one was released a couple of months prior to the second, and he’s sure at least one hundred of the views are from SEVENTEEN (not all him, his members also took away a lot from your words).

He listened to that podcast time and time again. He heard the life in your voice, the curiosity of the future outweighing the pain of the past. You said that life was, at first, a means to be with the people you loved. But you slowly came to believe that life was something that you would choose to love every single day, and so you did.

He hoped that you still did, but trusted that, if there were days that would come where you did not, you would reach out to someone to wait with you until the storm passed and you could choose to love again.

His chest filled with pride thinking about how far you’ve come.

But he couldn’t help but wish there were some things that remained from back then.

That glimmer of hope spurred him to become mindful of the object he was fiddling with in his hands. He held up a bracelet of years ago, hardly worn by time or by him. He wasn’t sure whether he was still allowed to. It was one-half of a pair, but if its partner no longer existed, then.

However, he never had the desire to throw it away.

The metal charms felt both foreign and at home in his hands as he fiddled with them, the faint clicking sound of the chain barely registering as his mind was in an entirely different place. His eyes focused once again on the charm of the sun caught between his fingers.

If only catching you was as simple, he mused.

Jihoon sighed and covered his eyes, desperately trying not to cringe at his internal monologue, habitually reaching for the Chopper plushie that you gifted him years ago, squeezing the body to diffuse the embarrassment he felt.

He remembered when he saw the charms at some random shop he heard about from others and thought you would enjoy, so he decided to scope it out in advance for the two of you. It was easy, on his way home after spending a few hours on his own to rehearse his clarinet, a regular occurrence.

Although there was no doubt the two of you gravitated towards each other, you both valued your independence and alone time.

──────────────────

“We’re giving us the chance to miss each other, Jihoonie.”

“Who said I’d ever miss you?”

“Well, gosh darn. Guess I’ll cover for you and miss you twice as much.”

“…You’re dumb.”

“Yes. Can I have some of your fries?”

──────────────────

He retaliated by taking the ketchup bottle and squeezing them all over the tray of fries and you immediately retracted, believing that fries should be dipped in its respective sauce (unless they were loaded fries, of course, which warranted using a utensil of sorts).

He chuckled to himself. Fifteen was one of the most turbulent years of his life, but there were plenty of moments (like fries drowning in ketchup) that reminded him it wasn’t all intense.

Your fifteenth year started off with that charm bracelet.

Two weeks before then, you were so moody that he nearly gave you your birthday gift earlier than he intended, just so he wouldn’t have to see you be so upset (for which, he has only a vague remembrance of what could have made you so upset). Of course, it might have been easier if he had simply brought up his concern and asked how you were, but he knew you would have brushed it off as nothing.

He paused.

Did he know that though?

Or did he just assume?

He clicked his tongue, annoyed at his own self-reflection.

Communication was easy in theory.

Application, however.

He often found it difficult, matching your pace.

You were always so quick.

Quick-witted. 

Quick to anger.

Quick to assume.

Quick to run away.

He heard a soft knock at his bedroom door (which meant it wasn’t Mingyu or Soonyoung) and he grunted in response. The door slowly opened (that ruled out Seungcheol and Chan) and revealed who decided to greet him in such a manner.

Ah, he was right.

“Woozingi~”

“Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Jeonghan moved to sit at the edge of Jihoon’s bed, with his legs crossed. “The members are wanting to get dinner tonight altogether since we have a schedule tomorrow. The staff said they’ll pay since it’s our six years.”

This had Jihoon propping himself upright. “Barbecue?”

Jeonghan snickered. “Yeah, it’ll be good to get ready in a few hours. But I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person since I know you like to mute the group chat.”

“That’s because it’s constantly going off,” Jihoon grumbled.

“Yes, that happens when people are trying to have a conversation, Jihoon-ah. You should try it sometimes. Especially since it sounds like you have communication issues.”

Jihoon winced. “Hyung. Your timing is terrible.”

“No, it’s impeccable. Just not for you. Anyway, a word of advice.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t have to fear rejection anymore,” Jeonghan started, slowly, the words seeming almost foreign in his mouth. “Regardless of what happens with her, you have people in your life that care about you as you are. You don’t have to try and match her. I don’t want you to subconsciously fall back into a habit of appeasing her because you’re afraid of scaring her away again.”

Jihoon blinked slowly. “I wasn’t expecting actual advice, so I’m a little stunned right now.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “I’m gonna be honest. The other members told me to come talk to you because the rest are either too scared or don’t know what to say.”

“Hah, we’re back to our trainee days, huh?”

Jeonghan grinned, probably recalling the amount of times that he was the emotional support pillar of the boys before they each learned to open up to each other. “Speaking of, I remember when I first met you. You were a teen with a cold-hearted exterior and a lot of opinions as well as the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had the responsibility to carry the music of twelve other guys and you had just lost something that was precious to you. You threw yourself into your work and that became your identity.”

“I—”

“I know you’re not that way anymore, but I’m just reminding you that, no matter what happens with her, no matter how she may respond, you aren’t that cold teenager who had to bear the weight all on your own. You’ve grown and are surrounded by people who can help ease the load.” Jeonghan paused for a moment. “Also, if I could think of a member who laughs easily at anything, you are one of the first that comes to mind. So, it concerns me that you haven’t been laughing lately, even when Mingyu accidentally sneezed out his ramyeon noodles—“ Jihoon snorted at the memory from last night. “—and, if I can assume anything about her, I don’t think she’d be very honored to know that it’s because of her. So. Come back to us, Jihoon. If she’s really meant to be in your life, she can match your rhythm. Don’t leave us in the dust.”

“Is this a long-winded way of saying ‘bros before hoes’?”

Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Maybe so!”

──────────────────

“Our Jihoonie~”

The teenage boy grunted in response, shooting up a look at one of the older members. “Is there something that you need, hyung?”

“You speak so formally, it’s off-putting.”

“That’s because someone refuses to act his age.”

“What a tough Busan guy,” Jeonghan teased.

Jihoon’s face twitched.

“Bumzu-hyung is looking for you. Said he wanted to finish up some more lessons.”

“Agh. I knew he was going to have criticisms. I’m barely getting a grip on this music production stuff, so I don’t even know if what I’m making is good enough to sell. Everyone might hate it.”

“Even if everyone else hates your music, just know I’m one of your biggest fans.”

“...If my music is hated, then we won’t make any money, which means you’ll be poor. What? Is it your dream to become poor?”

Jihoon expected Jeonghan to laugh and tell him that he was right and that money mattered. But instead, Jeonghan replied, “Jihoon. Your music is good. And if we don’t make money because other people aren’t able to see it. Then what’s the point? You say that it’s your responsibility as to whether SEVENTEEN succeeds or not, but, we’re thirteen members. Three units. One team. We’re SEVENTEEN. Stop acting like it’s all about you. Maybe my dream used to be becoming rich. But now, it’s just doing this. With all of us.”

──────────────────

Jihoon stared at his hands, at the charm bracelet. “Is it selfish to want this life and her as well?”

“Maybe it is. But, so what if you’re selfish?”

“Isn’t being selfish supposed to be a bad thing?”

“Just hope that she’s as selfish as you are,” Jeonghan shrugged. “By wanting her in your life, does that mean you want to be with her romantically?”

Jihoon paused. “You know, I’m not sure. I think I would be over the moon if we could even just be a part of each other’s lives. To have that line of communication open. But as the people that we are now. I think I’d like to meet the new Y/N. She probably has more in common with the new Lee Jihoon than the old her anyway.”

“You two have grown apart, aren’t you worried?”

Jihoon went silent for a moment, trying to pick out the right words. “Rather than grown apart, it feels like we’ve simply grown in separate spaces, by taking different routes, but our lives seem too intertwined for our paths to never cross again. Plus, she’s one of the few people that I could really be myself around. It’d be nice to have another safe space like that outside of SEVENTEEN because who else can I complain about you all to, that wouldn’t cause conflict between us?”

“Ay. What is there to complain about?”

Jihoon gave his hyung a pointed look.

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan started. “But be honest. Real talk. You really think she wouldn’t spread it to Dispatch?”

“She has always valued people’s stories more than anything, so it really annoyed her when other people would take out-of-context excerpts and twist them. So. That’s how I know she wouldn’t spread it. Also, if she was that kind of person, she would’ve done so by now. She has a ton of blackmail material on me.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “Interesting. You said she likes stories, so is she a writer like you?”

“Not in the traditional sense. She’s more of a speaker than a writer. In high school, of course, she had her awkward moments like everybody else did, but even then, she was a tier above the rest. I don’t know how to say this kindly, but she doesn’t really think before she talks, but she doesn’t usually have to because what comes out is almost always what she intended.”

“So, she must be eloquent then.”

Jihoon clicked his tongue. “Just because things come out as she intended doesn’t mean she wouldn’t intentionally be mean or annoying.”

──────────────────

“You like unnie, don’t you?”

Jihoon spluttered. Shit, shit, shit. He tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He wasn’t good with spontaneous spoken words, that was always your realm of expertise. He needed time to think of the right thing to say, but you never waited for him. “F-Firefly, I—”

You barked out a laugh, and he nearly retaliated at the harshness. He wasn’t sure why exactly you were being so harsh. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. She’s pretty high up there, above us mortals. From now on, I’ll do my best to help you out, yeah? That’s what best friends are for. Plus, you’re like family, like a brother to me, so.”

Jihoon sank back.

Family? Brother?

He wondered why that left a bitter taste in his mouth. But that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t being called family the highest praise?

So why the hell did that piss him off?

Instead of speaking his actual thoughts, his mouth had a mind of its own. “I can handle myself, Y/N.”

You sneered at him.

God, you were so infuriating sometimes. 

She wasn’t like that.

She was the soothing waves of Busan, ebb and flow, constant and expected. She was everything you weren’t. She was older, more experienced, graceful, calm, soothing.

She was beautiful.

But she didn’t have that burning fire you did. Didn’t have him reacting the way you managed to every time you opened your damn mouth or rolled your eyes—there you went again!

What the hell was wrong with you?

Rapid escalation, raised voices. You, accusing him of not trusting your judgment and hiding his crush from you, saying that you wished he trusted you. Him, arguing that he didn’t need to share every little thing, that it wasn’t about his trust for you at all, and that God, he did! He did trust you! Of course, he did!

So, why didn’t he tell you about the stupid crush?

It wasn’t that deep, but you were convinced it was, and he was too tired to even try and correct you. So, sure, he could be “in love” with his noona, like you believed. Because then he wouldn’t have to untangle the mess in his chest. He could shove it under the rug like he always had, always would.

You slammed your fists down onto the table before you walked away from him, in a rampage. Like a damn wildfire trying to clear everything in sight.

You were a volatile thing, explosive, even.

But.

You fizzled out just as fast.

He awoke around midnight to the soft knocking at his window, your silhouette perched on the thickest branch the tree outside his childhood home had to offer. He had half a mind to not open the glass pane but he saw you shiver and his body leaped out of bed without a second thought.

“I’m sorry, Jihoonie,” you said, a few moments after you clambered into his room.

“Okay.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for being friends with me anyway.”

“Sure.”

So, he wrapped your favorite blanket around you, the one he kept in his room for nights like this. Color slowly returned to your face and he saw the stains of tears on your cheek in the moonlight. You muttered words of apologies and told him about your day, not having the chance to earlier.

You were better like this, quiet, but not silent. Like a crackling fireplace beckoning all to come and listen, to be enveloped in warmth and light.

He never once called you his family.

But he’d be damned if you weren’t his home.

──────────────────

“Funny enough, despite the fact that she’s more of a speaker than a writer, even more than that, she’s a listener. She listens to more stories than she tells them. I think that’s helped with her pride. If she knew she messed up, she would always apologize, even if she hated doing it.”

“Well, that’s one lesson you haven’t learned from her yet.”

Jihoon pulled a face and Jeonghan laughed in response. The older of the two snatched away the Chopper on the opposite end and started throwing the doll up and down.

“Alright, lover boy. What I got from this conversation is that you’re still in love with her, but you gotta make sure she’s worthy of your love, alright? Heed my warning, don’t be afraid of being rejected by her. It’s already happened anyway, and here you are: world-star idol with twelve bros behind you no matter what.”

Jihoon cracked a smile. “You’re right. I got lucky.”

Jeonghan tossed Chopper back in his original vicinity. “I think Dokyeomie wanted to ask something from you too, but I don’t remember what it was, so maybe you can go get ready and he’ll come find you.”

“What a useless messenger.”

“Your luck can’t be perfect, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan quipped. He turned to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. “I hope to hear her story one day. Hear her side of things.”

“…Me too, hyung.”

──────────────────

“How much is the corn dog?”

“Hmm… Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”

Jihoon mustered as much displeasure as he could hold in his six-year-old body. “Y/N, you can’t pay with stories, that’s stupid.”

“It’s my shop!”

“Jihoon, we’re just playing pretend,” your cousin added, his eyes darting between the two of you, likely worried about needing to do damage control.

“Hyung, her idea is dumb!”

“Why!” You whined. “People pay with money all the time, but you can get money whenever! I don’t get to hear stories! I like stories! My parents don’t read to me every night like yours do, Jihoon!”

Jihoon stomped out of the playroom in annoyance, ears grated by the sound of your crying and your cousin’s failed attempts to console you. Stories couldn’t buy the new toy race car that he got. Stories couldn’t buy him candy at the corner market near the kindergarten. Stories couldn’t buy a GameBoy.

Stories didn’t matter.

Money mattered.

Still, nearly a decade later, you never failed to ask for your unconventional form of payment every time he took a portion of your lunch. He knew you packed more for him anyway. And he knew you would always ask for a story in return.

And he intentionally packed smaller meals so he could tell you about how the History teacher had botched up his classmate’s test and accidentally graded off by one, about how the clarinet solo he was learning required a finger pattern he wasn’t used to, about how that one guy—oh, the tennis player?—no, no, the flautist—isn’t it flutist?—it doesn’t matter—yes, it does, Jihoon—anyway, he asked out a girl—the senior?—yes—oh wow, how bold.

And you would smile in return, sliding your food choice of the day within his reach.

He learned that you hated money; it was the one and only thing your parents ever gave you consistently. Simply, it was the manifestation of their love (or lack of) for you.

So, he paid you with recountings of the mundane. You never complained, even when he felt as though his storytelling skills were lackluster. He held your rapt attention; your eyes wide with wonder, voice laced with curiosity.

Eventually, he asked you why.

Why stories?

“Because without them, I wouldn’t have learned that you love the X-Men series because of Hugh Jackman, that you prefer winter over summer, that the first ever K-Pop group you listened to was Brown Eyed Girls, that when you tell me a funny story, you wait until I react before you start laughing.”

And you gave him that smile that made his heart stutter.

“Money is everywhere, Jihoon. But there’s only one you. That’s all there is to it. People, at the core of it all, are just stories. So. That’s why. People will always matter more than profit.”

──────────────────

After Jihoon readied himself for the group dinner, he plopped himself down onto the communal couch and found himself scrolling through Instagram. He stopped at your latest post, a candid shot of you reading a children’s book to several six-year-olds, your face aglow with excitement, a high chance the photographer captured you mid-way through some silly voice attributed to the character on the page.

“Hey, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“Can I borrow your microphone for the day?”

Jihoon didn’t even have the chance to think twice before the words left his mouth, “Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.

“Is… Is this a hidden-camera?”

“...never mind. Just put it back when you’re done.”

“It’s blue, by the way.”

“I don’t care—”

“It makes me feel happy because it’s the color of the sky and of the ocean, which means it can be super calm or super exciting. It’s also one of the colors of our Caratdeul.”

“Okay, Dokyeom-ssi. Get out.”

“Yes, hyung. Thank you.”

Jihoon thought about how, if given the chance, you would ask Seokmin if he liked the paleness of 9am or the depth of 6pm? If he liked the gentleness of serenity or the vibrancy of cerulean? Or if he appreciated all that the shades encompassed before fading into greens and indigos?

But he wasn’t you.

You were the inspiration; the muse.

You were the reason to write.

He was just a storyteller.

──────────────────

“THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS HERE. THANK YOU TO THE PLEDIS STAFF, OUR MANAGERS, OUR CHOREOGRAPHERS, OUR MUSIC TEAM, OUR DANCERS, OUR STYLISTS, OUR CAMERA WORKERS, OUR FAMILIES, AND OUR SEVENTEEN MEMBERS! HAPPY SIX YEARS. HERE’S TO MORE!”

Everyone in the rented out restaurant cheered before drinking together. Even the sound barrier breaking screams of Soonyoung wasn’t enough to dampen Jihoon’s pride and spirit over how far they’ve come as a team. He looked around at his table, several members already seemingly drunk, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Jihoon-ah, make an exception for tonight and drink!”

He shook his head fervently. “There’s going to be several of you who are going to regret drinking when we have our V LIVE tomorrow. You’re going to look super puffy.”

“I can already feel it,” Seungcheol laughed, his eyes slightly glazed. “But the food and the beer are too good to pass up.”

Speaking of, Jihoon made sure to snatch a piece of kalbi to put onto his plate before Mingyu could. The younger one gave him the stink-eye while Jihoon merely smirked and tilted his head back, challenging him. Mingyu decided to change his target and grab at Seungkwan’s piece, who promptly smacked his hand with a “Kim Mingyu!”

Laughter went around the table as they reflected on the last six years, the amount of embarrassing moments that were brought up were positively correlated with the amount of shots that were taken.

Jihoon grit his teeth as he tried not to fold in on himself, remembering how they threw him up as a cheer and nearly ended his life by creating a Jihoon-shaped hole in the ceiling. He was so much smaller back then, easier to launch without thinking.

They laughed about the incident where Mingyu was nearly beaten to death by Jihoon with a guitar, which Jihoon argued that he still believed he was in the right. They discussed one of their first performances as a team, where they performed NU’EST’s “Hello” and they all had helmet hair. They poked fun at Seungkwan for his revolutionary English skills when he said, “are you kimbap kidding?”

They’ve grown so much.

International interviews with BuzzFeed, Seventeen the magazine, and others. GOING SEVENTEEN as a show has grown alongside them, more than just showing Carats the behind-the-scenes, but has now turned to variety that garnered the new fanbase of Cubics, and has been an honest highlight to Jihoon’s career, where they can just go wild and laugh with each other, just as they always do.

They talked about how they used to sneak in food, how they used to help each other get ready for school, how they still have the same playful spirit as they did back then, but with more trust that has formed between them (although, less for Jeonghan since his cheating at games has only gotten worse).

Jihoon leaned back, full of food and laughter and gratitude.

He wouldn’t trade his life with his team for anything.

(Not even you.)

However, that didn’t mean Jihoon didn’t want you to be a part of his already complete life.

He was a selfish human being.

He hoped you would be one too.

──────────────────

May 26th.

Six years ago, “Adore U” came out, marking the beginning of the journey of a thirteen member boy idol group named SEVENTEEN.

Now, here he was, trying to not be bullied into drinking another shot of soju after already consuming several in a short period.

Their anniversary V LIVE ended not too long ago and they did not have a schedule the following day, so the team decided to celebrate on their own, playing Mafia and messing around. A few hours ago, Jihoon would’ve hardly been able to tolerate the noise level, but since his hearing has been compromised due to his heart beating so loudly in his ears from the alcohol, he was plenty fine.

He shooed away his members and retreated back into the corner of the room, pulling out his cellphone and ignoring Mingyu making stupid kissy faces and noises. Jihoon shot him a look of disgust, but Mingyu merely laughed it off and went to go bother his next victim, who seemed to be Boo Seungkwan, a prime choice indeed.

As soon as he refreshed his Instagram app, there you were (with a highlighted gradient ring around your profile picture, your head tilted back with a soft smile grazing your features as you took in the endless sky above you).

He clicked on the circle and saw you and your friends there, a dimmed photo but your collective smiles large and wide. He recognized Hyejin and Wheein easily (the former with a disgusted look apparent on her face and the latter with a deep dimple), as they were two friends who were a common occurrence on your feed.

And there you were.

alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD

The corner of his lip quirked up at the cleverness in your caption.

Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in his system, he swiped up to send a message:

i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan

His brain short-circuited.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

Who was he to think he could directly message you like this? Also, who the hell was he to figure anything about you? He hasn’t even spoken to you. Jesus Christ, what has he done?

Before he could stop himself though, his thumbs decided to speak his thoughts.

sorry that was dumb of me to assume

of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album

What the hell, dude.

You were going to freak out and call him a creep and then block him.

You’ve literally never done that.

He tried to calm his heart.

However, not even ten minutes later, he realized he couldn’t take that risk.

sorry that was stupid

ignore me

congrats y/n

He felt nearly every goosebump that crawled along his skin, creeping up to his neck, threatening to choke him out. He breathed in deeply through his nose, hoping no one bears witness to him.

“Yah, Jihoon-ah.”

His eyes trailed up to see Soonyoung with a look of concern, mixed with a twinge of panic and anger.

Ah, it would be him.

“What did she do?”

──────────────────

For people who didn’t know him, Kwon Soonyoung comes off as, well, not-so-bright.

But that wasn’t (entirely) true.

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

He knew how to read a room, but oftentimes, he would purposely choose to simply do what he wanted anyway. Hardly did he ever prioritize another person’s comfort and complacency over his expression of his individuality. He knew what it took to be a performer, and he never denied himself the opportunity to be one.

So, him simply staring at his friend in silence with eyes that alone could have earned him his moniker of “Tiger’s Gaze,” was a major indicator that something was amiss.

Also, the fact that his friend was shrouded in near darkness, eyes rimmed with red, only a corner lamp illuminating his pale features.

“She went to America. She’s never fucking coming back.”

Soonyoung tried not to wince at his friend’s broken tone. Jihoon cursed like a sailor when they were trainees, but it was a habit that he slowly lost since he would often be reprimanded for his speech. He had to do the work to censor himself.

Well, the K-Pop industry was not a stranger to censorship, he mused.

“Wasn’t she already at an international school, though?”

“Yeah, but I just… I thought she would come back after graduating from that boarding school, you know? She wanted to go to Seoul National University, but. Fuck, dude. What if I’m the reason she stopped? What if she stopped following her dreams because of me? What if I–”

“She made her choice, Jihoon.”

“This is all my fault.”

“How?”

Soonyoung saw confusion flit across Jihoon’s face, but it quickly settled with a shake of his head. “It just is, alright?”

“Jihoon–”

“I’ll never be good enough for her. Fuck, I just thought if I tried, then maybe I could be, and– God, who do I think I am? Of course she’d never want someone like me–”

“Dude! Shut the fuck up, will you?”

Jihoon sat there in stunned silence.

“This might not even have anything to do with you. And if she really went to America because she’s trying to avoid you, then she’s a massive bitch–”

“Don’t fucking call her that–”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. Just like she’s doing whatever the hell she wants.” Soonyoung’s anger was slowly morphing into rage. Who was this person in front of him? He was so used to the sure, secure Lee Jihoon who would never truly get riled up.

But one mention of you and suddenly he would spiral.

Who the hell did you think you were?

Leaving this man who loved you so fucking wildly, to the point where he was just one moment away from begging on his knees for your return.

Soonyoung felt disgusted, but it was more of a ringing concern in his ears.

“Jihoon, you’re acting crazy right now. So what if she doesn’t come back to Korea? Are you gonna wait like a fucking sad dog out in the rain? Hoping that she’ll come pick you up again? You’re missing your own fucking life here.”

“I just–”

“Yeah, yeah, you love her. I get it. But… If she were to see you right now, do you think she would even want this kind of love? This obsessive, insecure kind?”

Jihoon’s face was now contorted in pain and Soonyoung tried so terribly hard to keep his face neutral. Soonyoung was plenty capable of being a soothing person, especially to his fellow members, but he was so riddled with frustration that he knew that he would come off as disingenuous if he even tried to pretend to be.

“Let her go. If she comes back, then she will. But don’t let her come back to someone who is incapable of even picking himself off of the floor.”

“...Okay.”

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

Aware of how much Lee Jihoon was in love with you.

Painfully so.

──────────────────

“I just–”

“You just what?” Soonyoung’s eyes bore into his friend’s face.

Jihoon recoiled at his tone. “I replied to her Instagram story and it was some dumb comment, but what if she thinks I’m being too much and she backs off and–?”

“Jihoon-ah.”

“...Soonyoung-ah.”

“She’s human, right?”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Then why are you acting like she’s this untouchable goddess? Who cares if she thinks you’re being too much? You’re putting her on a pedestal she probably doesn’t even want, dude.”

──────────────────

“Why’d you reject the guy?”

You glanced up at her best friend. “What’re you talking about?”

Jihoon cocked his head to the side. Was it already so quickly forgotten by you? It happened at lunch and it was kind of rowdy. Poor dude. “The guy who asked you out to the dance. You said you thought he was cute before and that he was good at tutoring math.”

“Yeah, I might know him, but he doesn’t know me.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys tutored together.”

You clicked your tongue. “Yeah, we do, but. He doesn’t know me. I know him because I ask him questions. I ask him about himself. But he never once asked me a question about me. If he did, he would know that I hate public gestures. He would know that I don’t like receiving flowers. He didn’t even care to ask any of my friends about what I liked. The main reason as to why he asked me to go to the dance is probably because I made him feel good about himself. I might know him, but he doesn’t know me, and that’s one of the most annoying things.”

“What, that people don’t know you?”

“No. That people assume they know me.”

Jihoon paused for a moment.

“People think that I’m this super wholesome good kid who gets perfect grades.”

“Well, one of those things is true.”

You cracked a smile at that. “Yeah, well. The more people assume I’m on a different level from them, the lonelier it is. I just… I don’t want to be lonely, Jihoon.”

“It’s alright. I’ll make sure you aren’t.”

It was chilling, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, as if you knew a secret he didn’t, as if you already prophesied a future that rendered his words empty. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lee Jihoon.”

──────────────────

Jihoon nearly bit his tongue.

Ever since he no longer had the security of having you be by his side, he became exactly like one of them, forcing assumptions onto you.

You were out of sight and he was out of his mind.

He told you that you could always be yourself around him, and here he was, creating a caricature of you in his head that he knew didn’t exist. To push forth the narrative he wrote. One born of insecurity. “...I don’t understand how you’ve been so right lately?”

“I really do wish I had my phone around to record you when you say that,” Soonyoung said off-handedly. “So, you’re not going to try to unsend those messages?”

“You can unsend messages?”

“Uh–”

Jihoon immediately unlocked his phone to go to his messages. There, he saw your chat. He long-pressed the message without much thought and his thumb hovered over it.

But he hesitated.

“...Just watching from afar isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?”

Jihoon stared up at his friend, who had a look of (almost) pity etched across his features. Jihoon swallowed the lump in his throat. “...No. I don’t think it is.”

“Well, if she rejects you in any kind of way, I can comfort you.”

“No thanks.”

“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”

──────────────────

Almost exactly sixty minutes later, Jihoon witnessed a miracle.

“...She replied.”

Seungkwan glanced up at Jihoon. “Who?”

Jihoon turned his screen to his younger member, who leaned forward to read his screen. Only to audibly gasp and cover his mouth with his hands. “You messaged her?!”

“Yeah, like an hour ago. Keep up.”

“Hyung, you didn’t tell me–”

“Ah, Boo Seungkwan.”

The corner of Seungkwan’s mouth twitched and Jihoon merely smirked. He turned his attention back to your messages, smiling fondly at your usage of 🥳 after greeting him a happy anniversary.

Oh shit, wait. You knew SEVENTEEN?

And he portrayed that sentiment exactly when messaging you.

(With some typing errors.)

(He may or may not have taken one, two, several shots once the anxiety settled back into him.)

(His alcohol tolerance was nonexistent.)

The messages were now rapid-fire. He found out that you were a Carat and that you favored Yoon Jeonghan.

He snorted at that, of course you would.

A lightbulb lit up over his head. Ah. He could do something for you.

He jumped up from his seat on the couch, away from Seungkwan who was watching over his shoulder the entire time who chose to remain silent because he knew he would be kicked out if he said anything compromising. “Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Woozi Woozi~?”

“Can you do something for me?”

Jeonghan stared at him, frozen. Then after a moment to process what exactly Jihoon said, the older one crossed his arms over his chest, a scandalized look in his wide eyes. “Depends on what you’re asking for.”

“YAH.”

“Lee Jihoon, don’t yell at someone you’re trying to ask a favor from. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”

Jihoon held his tongue, but his expression must have given it away because Jeonghan laughed and said that he would rather not die, and asked Jihoon to continue with what he was saying. “Y/N just graduated and she basically said that you’re her favorite SEVENTEEN member–”

“WOW! I like her already.”

“Hyung.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do for both my cute fan and my even cuter dongsaeng?”

“Just a video to congratulate her.”

“My videos are rare, it’s not easy to get something like this, you know.”

“Hyung, please.”

Jeonghan cackled, but quickly acquiesced. “Alright, alright.”

Soon enough, he found himself in a rhythm speaking to you. It was so easy, there was no residual awkwardness (on his end, at least) and it felt so natural. The banter was still there and so were your emoticons, escalating from the “:)” of your childhood to the iPhone emojis. You seemed so close, within reach, attainable.

That felt dangerous.

He could feel it. He could feel that desire to spill out everything he could. He spent years coming up with the words he wished he could’ve told you, some of them now award-winning songs, and it feels almost euphoric to know that he could tell you it all.

But.

He wasn’t sure, still. How receptive you would be. Would you run away like you did in the past whenever things became too much, too overwhelming? He always reminded you that you could never be that, but he wasn’t sure whether he was of the same capacity.

He wants you in his life. There is no doubt about that, especially not now.

But what if you leave again?

He cannot mess this up. He can’t.

So, he kept things light between you, jokes and jabs.

But that didn’t stop him from pushing for more, disguised in a (not-so) innocent attempt at ensuring that he would be able to have open contact with you in the future.

And that’s all he needed. A future with you in it.

That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

──────────────────

Yes. Yes, it was.

After a few days of no response from your end on KakaoTalk, your Shikamaru profile picture almost mocking him with his permanent deadpan look, the answer was resounding.

But Jihoon’s entire identity was based on his stubbornness.

So, he decided to take a chance and message you on Instagram.

Only to retract immediately saying you didn’t have to reply.

Stupid.

Thankfully, though, you responded within 30 minutes, admitting that @narutofanfreak123 was not exactly a username you wanted to share with anyone above the age of twelve. You both quickly resolved the miscommunication (wow, Jihoon thought, imagine if we had this before).

He chuckled at your choice of KKT username, @MadameFirefly, oddly touched that his nickname for you still held enough weight to be your moniker for a messaging app.

He did his best to casually ask what you were planning on doing in the future (not like he wanted to see if he could somehow fit into it, or whatever).

Jihoon was left staring at his phone screen, the weight of his phone now burdened by the weight of your choices. Seoul? Or New York City?

──────────────────

“You didn’t have to miss the dance just because I got a B on an exam, you know.”

“Your parents are insane for grounding you to the library for a B on an exam, you know? And for a hagwon that’s way above our grade level.”

You shook your head, not willing to admit out loud that you agreed. “What I mean is that you don’t have to keep me company while I study when you could go off and meet cute girls and sweep them off their feet.”

“Why would I do that when I can watch you and your snot-nosed face trying to do college level calculus?”

“It’s all so that I can get into Seoul National.”

“Firefly, you could get into any school, even outside Korea.”

“Maybe I’ll do just that,” you laughed. “Finally get out of here.”

“Just let me know and I’ll stow myself into your suitcase.”

“Oh please. You’ll probably be the one traveling internationally doing whatever you do. A world-renowned musician.”

“Alright, you can be in my suitcase instead then.”

“Okay, can you leave breathing holes for me?”

“No, get better lung capacity.”

You clicked your tongue at him and he laughed. “Seriously, though, Jihoonie. You could be spending your teen years the way the movies do it. You could be ‘swearing you’re infinite’ while a slow-mo cam focuses on you as you dance, surrounded by beautiful people definitely too old to be cast as teenagers.”

“No thanks.”

You put your forehead down onto the table. “Please. Do it for me. Get a girlfriend because I can’t.”

“You know, you’re probably why I can’t get a girlfriend.”

No. You definitely were.

You shot him an annoyed look. “You could easily go and find someone who’d be smitten with you. But instead you’re about to watch me get a nosebleed over how hard I’m working my brain here.”

“Maybe I’m a sadist and want to watch that happen.”

You threw your eraser at him, but easily missed, the rubber object bouncing off of the table and onto the carpeted floor. You whined at the idea of having to leave your seat and Jihoon just rolled his eyes and picked it up for you.

Sure, he could be dancing with his friends, with cute girls, with whoever. He could be surrounded by endless snacks and overly sweet punch, the dance no doubt smelling like youth and pride and reckless decisions. He would see that there are plenty of people in his life outside of you.

But, no.

If he did, you would be left here, in this almost deserted library on a Friday, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into what your parents have convinced you matters more than your health.

You gave him a large grin as he passed you your eraser before you went back to focusing on your work.

Yeah, he’d much rather see this instead.

──────────────────

Later that evening, he found himself again in his recording studio.

Our past that didn’t line up,

If I could go back in time,

Rather than roughly, but warmly,

Would I be able to let you go?

He stared at the lyrics he wrote, feeling discontent. He wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t feel any kind of residual emotions towards you. Who would be able to meet you where you were and wish you well, no matter where you decided to go.

One of his biggest regrets was storming out of your childhood home the way that he did. He could’ve had answers but instead he was left with hostile emotions and questions.

He could only hope he would’ve done something different.

But now that he is faced with letting you go, he’s not sure how easily he would yield.

He took a moment to bury his face in his hands and tried to think about this from your perspective (something he had to practice while living with twelve other boys). He breathed in deeply and thought about the you that you are now, about how the person he fell in love with could easily be gone, and you were nothing but a shadow of what remained.

But that didn’t feel right either. It seems as though the person that you’ve grown into, that you’ve flourished into, is someone he would’ve wanted to get to know regardless of whether you had history or not.

Perhaps that is because of the artifice of social media, or perhaps it’s because you carry an air of authenticity with you that has now been given the opportunity to bloom instead of stifled in the environment you were raised in. Whether or not you were mere remnants of his past, it does not mean that the person you are now is any less lovely.

He groaned loudly.

Emotional labor is hard.

How is this something you enjoy doing?

──────────────────

“You really want to become a social worker, huh?”

You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. It feels like the best use of my skills. I like being able to potentially help people like me and well, there are a lot of people like me, you know. I don’t know whether I want to become a private practice therapist, but that seems like a solid option for now until I know more about what else is out there in the field.”

He would disagree, but he decided not to. “I just can’t deal with all of those emotions.”

You gave him a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most sensitive people that I know.”

Jihoon felt ruffled by that. “What? What are you talking about?”

You quickly put your hands up in mock defense. “I’m not saying that being sensitive is a bad thing. I’m saying that there’s no way you would be my friend if you couldn’t handle emotions. I have way too many of them, I’m not that blind to that. Also, I’ve read your poetry and heard your music and that’s some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Like, even the way you hold your clarinet is emotional.”

“I think that’s you projecting yourself onto me.”

“Say what you want, Jihoon. You’re a sensitive soul, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Yeah, well, sensitivity isn’t what gets you awards, you know. Skill does.”

You huffed in response. “Yeah, well, once you build up the second, the first is what will create a legacy that will be one to remember for ages to come. I’m speaking it into existence now. And I lay claim to the title of being your first fan. I will support you the entire way, no matter what you do. Music, baseball, comedy. Whatever!”

Jihoon snorted. He wouldn’t dare become a comedian, but it made him feel good that you thought that was a viable prospect for him. “Whatever industry I’m in, I’ll probably have to protect you from all of the bad people. You’re too soft. Even just last week, I mean…”

“What? You mean, when Nahyun made fun of me during my presentation in front of everyone?”

Irritation washed over Jihoon. 

The self-proclaimed It Girl decided to try and belittle you while in the middle of your presentation, as you were explaining the measurements that you used in your findings, she asked whether you had ‘measured’ your weight recently because ‘you really ought to’.

He never wanted to get into a fight more than then, especially when your other classmates laughed along. It was a subpar, typical, low-class mean girl line, but it filled him with rage.

You were completely unphased by it, continuing on with your presentation, not even choosing to spare a glance in her direction.

Luckily, the teacher, not being a prick himself, called out Nahyun and pulled her aside after class to apologize to you. (Jihoon would’ve preferred a public execution apology.)

Jihoon stood just a few feet away as you accepted her half-assed effort. You paused for a moment and muttered something to her, something that only she could hear. Nahyun merely pursed her lips afterwards before walking away. Irritation rushed through him again.

“Seriously, though. You’re too soft, firefly.”

“Hm. I don’t think so.”

“No?”

“No. I just think everyone else is too hard on themselves. And each other.”

“...You’re gonna be a great therapist.”

“Thanks. Hire me.”

──────────────────

Jihoon had his own fair share of meetings with professional counselors (especially in the midst of living such a hectic life as an idol), but he was worried whether you would be as cut and dry as they were, whittled down by years of academia. It seemed almost like they were reading out of a textbook, using vocabulary words like ‘empathy’ and ‘self-care,’ so he never saw it fit to return if it wasn’t necessary.

However, the places you’ve poured your time into left only glowing reviews for your passion and compassion for the field that you were in.

Jihoon was roused from his thoughts at his phone ringing on his desk. He looked at the Caller ID and saw a name he has been in and out of contact with for over a decade, it was your cousin. He picked it up. “Yo, hyung. What’s up?”

“Are you busy right now, Jihoon?”

“No. It’s a slower day today. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Seoul in a few weeks. Your noona and I are planning on celebrating saying goodbye to our single days by drinking way too much within the span of 12 or so hours. I wanted to see if you were down to join.”

“I probably won’t drink, but if it’s for you, hyung, I’ll go.”

“Nice. And you can feel free to leave after the dinner, we’ll just be at an apartment we’re renting out in Gangnam, since I don’t trust those fools to walk around the streets of Hongdae.”

“I’ll probably do that, I don't want to accidentally be caught by Dispatch.”

“Right, right. We wouldn’t want to sully the name of the best producer in all of K-Pop.”

“That’s a title I don’t think I’ll ever get.”

Your cousin laughed. “You never know, you might get that award sooner than you think, kiddo. Alright, I’ll keep you updated on our schedule. But uh…”

Jihoon knew his hyung well. He was about to bring you up again. “What about her?”

“I just wanted to ask whether you’d be interested in a meet-up with her. Not that we’ve asked her or anything, but I know we’ll probably meet up with her at some point, and I know it’ll feel weird if we’re not all together, you know? The four of us.”

“Yeah… I want to say that I’m courteous enough to wait for her response, but I just know that I’m willing to meet with her, if anything. Even just one last time.”

“That… sounds kinda sad, but. I guess I’ll take it. If you’re down, we could even make it a surprise on her end.”

He imagined your deer in headlights look but couldn’t think further than that. “Sounds like we’d really be putting her on the spot, if that was the case.”

“Hey, she’s rarely played it safe. Same with you. Might as well keep the flow going. And if anything, I’ll take the brunt of it all. She can’t stay mad at me for too long.”

“We both know that’s literally not true.”

“Okay, fine. Your noona can take the blame.”

“Wow, very excited to see how this marriage will go.”

His hyung laughed. “Amazingly, I’m sure.”

A thought occurred to Jihoon and he realized it was strange that he was mentioning it as an afterthought, as if it was something to be expected, something natural and normal. “Oh, hyung. By the way, I’m talking to Y/N again.”

Jihoon heard the undeniable ‘beep beep beep’ of being hung up and he stared confused at his phone screen until he saw another phone call from your cousin. He picked up with a, “Hello?”

Your cousin sounded much more flustered than he did just seconds ago. “Sorry. I hung up because I dropped my phone by accident. Say that again. You’re what?”

“I’m talking to her again. Kind of. I guess. Like, Instagram DMing went to KakaoTalk.”

“Jesus Christ, you slid into her DMs?”

“Can you not say it like that?”

“Can you say that that didn’t happen?”

Jihoon relayed the entire experience to him, only now realizing he didn’t even share all of the details with his members because it would’ve been too much teasing fodder from them. But your cousin, his hyung, was the kind of fellow that wouldn’t do that, even given the opportunity.

──────────────────

“Hyung,” Jihoon started one day, across from said person in a local Busan restaurant. “I don’t get how you’re single.”

“Why, you wanna date me?”

Jihoon’s eye twitched and your cousin laughed. Jihoon bit on his straw, the family style meal between the two young men long since devoured. “People compare us, you know.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s there to compare?”

“I don’t know. So many people around us know how cool you are. You’re good at sports, you’re smart, you have a lot of friends, you’re handsome. Everyone always says you’re one of the best listeners they’ve ever met.”

“The trick is to not pay attention sometimes and just nod.”

“I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that.”

“I’m sure she knows,” he laughed. “Well, I'm honored that you think all of those things, but those are all traits you have too. You do realize that, right?”

Jihoon grunted. “Not… really.”

“Well, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean others don’t. My cousin definitely does. She’s a good kid and has a good heart. Same with you. If you ever decide to do anything about those feelings of yours, just know that I approve.”

Jihoon nearly choked on his drink. “Wh–?”

“Oh, it was a secret?”

“Hyung!”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything to her, don’t worry. And if you ask me, I’d say that you’re the only one on this planet that even has a chance. Well, except that girl from the cake shop.”

Jihoon sneered.

Fucking Woo Soyeon.

With her shiny hair and long eyelashes and doe eyes and tanned skin from her beach volleyball playing.

Giving out discounts to you like nobody’s business. Calling you cute and flirting nonstop while twirling a lock of her hair. Saying you’re her favorite customer. He could swear Woo Soyeon would throw a knowing smirk at him every time you stuttered a little too long when saying thank you.

That damned girl behind the counter, the one whose beauty and voice (“It’s just so velvety, you know? Like the chocolate cherry cakes.”) he knew you were smitten by.

She was even taller than him, especially in her heels.

At the ripe age of 15, Jihoon understood what jealousy was.

Because of fucking Woo Soyeon.

“Watch out, Jihoon. I can hear your thoughts all the way from over here.”

“Sorry.”

Your cousin laughed. “Trust me, you mean a lot more to her than cake counter girl. My cousin wanted all of us to go see the Christmas lights in the city together. You don’t see her inviting that cake counter girl, do you?”

Jihoon felt a weird sense of pride well up in his chest. Then immediately deflated. It felt stupid to feel like he won against a person who’s just trying to sell cakes to a loyal customer. “Hyung, how do you do it? You’d never let yourself get angry or jealous over stuff like this.”

The older of the two cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You wouldn’t get jealous over a cake counter girl.”

“Says who? I get jealous. It’s normal, you know. Jealousy isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just what you do with it, right? Like, just because you’re jealous of cake counter girl, does that mean you stop Y/N from going to that shop?”

“What? Why would I do that? She loves that shop.”

“Exactly. Emotional maturity doesn’t mean you stop yourself from feeling the emotion, it just means you learn how to handle it as it comes. And once you practice it enough, it becomes easier and easier.”

“You make it sound easy, but it’s not.”

“Hey, I’m not anything big and special myself.”

Jihoon shook his head. “Hyung, you’re a superhuman.”

“No, I’m just human and letting myself be that,” he corrected. “Trust me, there’s plenty of good people out there. A lot of them just aren’t making the decision to do so. It’s easier to be cruel, but. I want to prove that you can be kind and still be a man. We get to define what that means. If I decided to be cruel, to become what society says is ‘a man,’ then I have no doubt Y/N would lose trust in me, and probably, all men.”

Jihoon noticed that his hyung stared at him for a second.

“Actually, maybe not all men.”

Jihoon felt embarrassed, but also honored, at the implication. “Thanks, hyung. You know, for not making fun of me. And for admitting that you also feel those kinds of things.”

“Absolutely, I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m seriously still surprised that you’re single.”

“Yeah, well. That might not always be the case if I can figure out what to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… you know your noona?”

──────────────────

Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the way the events unfolded. Your cousin told him about his feelings for his future wife, but it still took a few years for anything to come out of that. He wondered whether being childhood friends had anything to do with it, as if the longer and deeper the bond, the riskier the chasm was to try to jump across.

However, your cousin still managed to do it.

“How did you do it, hyung?”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Just… how did you manage to tell noona how you felt?”

The older man laughed. “You really think that it was me who confessed? No, no. It was her. I think she was tired of the back and forth that was happening between us. I mean, so was I, but I was a coward, but thankfully, she wasn’t. Now because of her saying that she loved me first, I get to be the one who says it last. Then we start again. It’s a dialogue, you see. It doesn’t matter who starts the line, as long as it continues.”

“Oh…”

“Am I proud that I was a coward? No. I sometimes wish it was me who said it first so she wouldn’t have any room for doubt. But we can’t go back and change the past, only commit to a better future. All of this to say, though, Jihoon, it’s been long enough of not saying anything between the two of you. I don’t think you want to wait any longer.”

“…yeah. I agree.”

That night, hours after preparing for the album, Jihoon’s fingers tapped away on his Notes app.

This waiting, it’s not easy to endure.

It was past 4am now.

But he didn’t want to wait any longer.

So, he switched apps and instead of a blank Note, he began typing into a message box.

i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am

A response from you was the last thing he expected, but you always managed to surprise him.

The first time he heard your voice directly in his ears, he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. But he tried to keep his voice level as he asked you about where you were leaning towards for your career.

The relief that rushed through him.

The hope that ignited in him.

That was the spark needed for him to explode.

And so he did, into words.

“I’m proud of you, you know?”

He heard your throaty stutter, one that only came out whenever you were really caught off guard. “Uh—what?”

“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea,” Jihoon still couldn’t believe the two of you went to the same school. “You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So I’m proud of you.”

He could barely hear your, “It’s not that big of a deal—” over the pounding in his ears.

“But it is, firefly.”

And suddenly he was brought back to all the years before. Where he spent more years in love with you than not. How that nickname encapsulated exactly as he saw you: inspiration, guidance, hope.

“I mean, I just—”

Your flustered response only encouraged him to continue. “You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”

“Jihoon, I—”

He didn’t realize just how much he’s missed hearing you say his name. But more than that, “I’ve missed you.”

There was a pause on your end, but he was done with his.

“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls—” which he would never admit to being the reason he never wants to get behind the wheel again. “And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly, for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle going down. That kind of stupid.”

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was naming a memory that you no doubt remember as well, it was near traumatizing. But there was something in him that didn’t want you to forget. He didn’t want himself to forget. Because…

If I forget someday, as if nothing is wrong,

Our future will be empty and sad.

It’s not that I want to forget you.

Ah, he made a mental note to switch to his Notes app later.

“I… I missed you too.”

Jihoon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his cheeks, almost to the point of straining them. It was already so late and he still had enough function in his brain to know he ought to cut this short now. Otherwise, he’d be on the phone with you for an ungodly amount of time. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”

“Okay.” Your voice sounded so small, he had to press his phone closer to his ear to ensure he didn’t miss anything.

“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”

“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”

He laughed hard at that. You would say that. “Alright, we’ll just go with firefly then.”

‘We’ felt good on his tongue.

“Night, night, Jihoonie.”

“Sleep well, firefly.”

He told you he needed to sleep, but with the way that he was running on sheer endorphins from finally releasing some of that pressure inside of him, sleep was the furthest thing on his mind. Instead, he imagined you getting some well-deserved rest, wondering what kind of dreams you hoped to have.

You were falling asleep, he was falling in love.

──────────────────

In less than 24 hours, he was going to see you in person for the first time in years, no more needing to find YouTube videos or podcasts or news articles or social media posts.

Tomorrow, he’ll be face to face with you.

And the dorm was in chaos.

“He should wear the white button down!”

“No, he should wear something funky, with cool patterns!”

“What? Absolutely not, hyung! Jihoon-hyung looks best in plain clothing, his skin shines that way!”

“Well, he’s been avoiding his skincare, so that might not be the best route to go down.”

“Hoon is handsome no matter what!”

Jihoon was exhausted. Why were his members more invested in this than he was?

Even Soonyoung was getting giddy. And that was a problem. When it came to you, Soonyoung was his voice of reason, but after he relayed the phone call he had with you, Soonyoung was easily won over by your: ‘I missed you too.’

“I knew it!” The tiger had exclaimed.

(Jihoon wasn’t sure whether he did.)

Junhui was thriving off of the chaos and was now leaping across the wooden floor, with Jeonghan quickly on his tail, trying to coerce him into stopping and failing miserably. Seokmin was still trying to convince Seungkwan that a funky pattern was like how, in nature, peacocks showed off to their mates—“he’s not a bird, hyung!”—while Soonyoung kept interjecting saying that Jihoon was attractive no matter what so he could just wear a plastic bag (which earned him a gentle slap by Seokmin). Mingyu disappeared for a moment after Wonwoo’s off-handed comment about Jihoon’s skin, only to return with his skincare products that Jihoon knew were going to be slapped on him soon enough. Seungcheol kept repeating in an exasperated tone, “Stop fighting, we already got a noise complaint this week,” while Jisoo and Minghao were probably off in Jihoon’s closet trying to establish an outfit for him without his consent. Hansol was on his phone, noise-canceling earphones on, completely uninvolved in what was going on. Chan was only goading on whoever was the loudest in the moment (currently, Junhui).

Jihoon piped up. “Do I get an opinion on this?”

In near perfect synchronization (including the boys in his room), everyone responded with a, “No!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

God, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

[continue reading here]

[wol-fica]

-𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕟-

summary - Jenna is a simp.

warnings - fluff!, r is slightly shorter than Jenna, kissing, implied make out session

an - wrote this in honor of @i984 (my wife) cause i love her<3

—————

Jenna was never a lovey-dovey person. Most often she kept to herself and didn’t bother anyone with her needs or wants, she didn’t prefer to express her feelings.

Love, to her, was a concept she would never be able to understand. She considered herself to be a dry, bland, unsweetened girl whose priorities lied within her job and her family. She had absolutely no time for a relationship, and that was that.

Until you came along.

See, you were different than all the others who tried to swoon Jenna. Your personality encapsulated her in such a way that she thought she was going crazy. Your smile was a glowing aura that lit up the room like the sun on a breezy summer sunday. Your eyes, oh your eyes; they were a glorious color of auburn red and caramel brown with a hint of orange thrown into the mix. Jenna would count every freckle that dusted your face and hit herself when she got a new number every time.

Now, how did she get here?

Well, you were an aspiring film student. You went to and graduated from Harvard with a masters degree in filmography and directorship. You loved movies, especially horror, and have always had a small section of your heart devoted to analyzing and breaking down iconic movie scenes. You adored being on sets and meeting wonderful actresses and actors, then working with them to make something so phenomenal you wish you could save it forever.

Jenna happened to be a wonderful actress, and you scored a job as the co-director for the upcoming Netflix hit, Wednesday. The addams family had always been a classic for you, and now working on it was so surreal that you passed out when you got the job.

As of present day, you were on set for Wednesday. It was lunch break currently, so you resided to your tent to eat Pad Thai and go over notes you had written down. The crisp-smelling air blew through the open flap as you ate, suddenly filling your nostrils with the scent of ceder wood and vanilla. Your eyes lit up in and instant; you knew that body wash anywhere.

In walked Jenna, beautiful as always. Her hair was tied down into its usual braids and she was in her nevermore uniform for filming. A smile graced her lips when she saw you, and she made a bee-line for the open seat next to you.

“Hey.” She said, sitting in the chair.

“What’s up otter?” You shot back, grinning mischievously.

When you first met Jenna, your co-worker thought her last name was pronounced ‘Aw-Tega.’ Ever since, you have called her otter as a nickname.

“Nothing much, just relaxing.” She replied, resting her head in her hand as she stared at you in a daze.

“Sounds awesome. I wish I could relax.” You said, rolling your shoulders in an uncomfortable manner.

“Want me to help?”

You looked up at Jenna in surprise, seeing that she was referring to your tense state.

“Uh…sure? If you want to.” You replied, setting your notes down on the table as she got up to stand behind you.

Her hands made contact with your skin, making goosebumps rise as she slowly massaged your muscles. The way her fingers would gently caress your shoulder blades made her feel, uncontrollably giddy.

A groan escaped your mouth when her thumbs rubbed a particularly tender spot on the nape of your neck, and you closed your eyes in pure bliss. Jenna was thanking whatever power was above her for letting her be in this position, and for not allowing you to see her face; she was as red as a tomato.

A sensation of bravery took over her, and before she new it she was pressing her lips to the back of your neck. Her nose brushed your undercut and she lightly inhaled your shampoo. You smelled sweet, a mixture of coffee and chocolate with a sprinkle of cinnamon.

The feeling of her kissing your skin made your eyes fly open in shock and you whipped your chair around to face her. She shot back slightly, a face of uncertainty and nervousness.

“Did you just…kiss me?” You asked slowly.

“I…uhm…” Jenna gulped, loosing the ability to speak as you stood up carefully, “N-no…i mean…uhh..”

“Jenna..” You warned, stepping into her personal space as she backed into the tent wall.

“I’m sorry…it was impulsive…” She grimaced, closing her eyes in preparation for your outburst…

…that never came?

No, instead she was met with your lips on hers, your hands on her neck while you pushed your body flush against her. She felt your tongue slid into her mouth, intertwining with her own as her hands slid down to grasp your hips.

The break-away was too soon for her liking. She was just starting to relax and enjoy you when you decided to pull back. Either in an effort to keep you close, or just because Jenna was desperate, she chased your lips before you put a finger in between.

“Woah there tiger, slow down.” You chuckled, smiling when Jenna whined sadly.

“Don’t worry,” You purred, leaning in to brush your nose against hers while you wiggled your butt in a teasing way, “You have many more opportunities to taste me..”

——————

Want to join a taglist for my posts? Comment down below to join!

I do not give permission for anyone to repost on any platform

[mydaddywiki]

Mike Leach

Height: 6'2" (1.88 m) Physique: Average Build

Michael Charles Leach (March 9, 1961 – December 12, 2022; aged 61) was an American college football coach who primarily coached at the NCAA Division I FBS level. He was a two-time national coach of the year, three-time conference coach of the year and the mastermind behind the NCAA record-setting air raid offense. He was the head coach at Texas Tech University from 2000 to 2009, where he became the winningest coach in school history. After Texas Tech, he coached at Washington State University from 2012 to 2019, where he recorded the third-most wins of any coach in school history. He then coached at Mississippi State University from 2020 until his death in 2022.

Funny how I’ve heard this guy name from watching college football shows, but never looked him up until he was hired by Mississippi State. He looks like the kind of man I could spend hours with fucking.

Born in Susanville, CA, Leach was raised in Cody, Wyoming, Leach graduated from Cody High School in 1979. After graduating with honors from Brigham Young University (BYU) in 1983, Leach earned a master’s degree from the U.S. Sports Academy and his Juris Doctor from Pepperdine University, where he graduated in the top one-third of his class. Leach began his coaching career as an assistant at Cal Poly in 1987. After a few more stops as an assistant coach, Leach was hired at Texas Tech from 2000 to 2009 and Washington State from 2012 to 2019 before spending two season at Mississippi State University from 2020 until his death in 2022.

Leach died Monday night after complications related to a heart condition. He was married (aren't they all?), survived by his wife, Sharon and four children, along with three grandchildren. Nicknamed the "Pirate," Leach had an affinity for pirates and even had a life-sized statue of a singing pirate in his office when he was at Washington State. That's fitting as he could have taken my pirate booty.

Head Coaching Record Overall: 158–107 Bowls: 8–9

Accomplishments and Honors Championships 1 Big 12 South Division (2008) 1 Pac-12 North Division (2018)

Awards AFCA Coach of the Year (2018) George Munger Award (2008) Woody Hayes Trophy (2008) 2× Pac-12 Coach of the Year (2015, 2018) Big 12 Coach of the Year (2008)

[coochiequeens]

Update on a crime the news media refuses to call femicide

TINLEY PARK, Ill. (CBS) -- A father has been charged with first-degree murder in the shooting death of his three daughters and wife inside a home in Tinley Park on Sunday.

Maher Kassem, 63, was charged Tuesday with four counts of first-degree murder, according to the Cook County State's Attorney's Office. At his initial court appearance, prosecutors an argument led to Kassem using two guns to first shoot his wife and then, after stepping over her body, his three daughters. 

Maher KassemTINLEY PARK POLICE

The victims were identified as Majeda Kassem, 53; twins Halema Kassem, 25, and Hanan Kassem, 24; and Zahia Kassem, 25. 

Officials said Kassem shot his wife, Majeda, seven times, and each daughter was shot twice. The Kassems' 19-year-old son was in the home but was not physically injured. The women's bodies were found in the basement. 

Authorities also said Kassem was cooperative with police and admitted to the shooting. Kassem indicated the fight started over the family's finances. 

Prosecutors said the shooting took place after an argument on Sunday morning between the father and one of his daughters. That prompted his wife and two other daughters to get involved and urge him to calm down.

CBS 2 first reported Monday that there was a witness to the crime. That witness was identified in court as Maher Kassem's 19-year-old son.

Amid all the yelling, the son – who was sleeping at the time – woke up and went to see what was going on. He would later hear gunshots and first found his mother and two of his sisters fatally shot. He walked in moments before his father shot the third daughter.

Police said the father never turned the gun toward his son.

Left: Halema Kassem, Right: Zahia and HalemaPHOTOS SUPPLIED TO CBS

Around 11:20 a.m. Sunday, police responded to a report of the shooting in the 7400 block of West 173rd Street.

Village Manager Pat Carr said a male - who police later said was Kassem - made a 911 call saying someone was shot in the residence, and and police found his wife and four daughters dead at the scene. Police recovered two guns at the scene.

When police asked Kassem where his family was, prosecutors said, "the defendant pointed in the direction of the basement. The officer asked the defendant who else was there, and the defendant stated, 'They're gone.'"

Prosecutors said Kassem appeared to be disgruntled over how he was treated at home.

"The defendant was recorded volunteering things about having just retired, and that 'She treats me like a [expletive] dog," said Cook County Assistant State's Attorney Scott Clark. "'I worked 40 years.' and 'I worked all my life to give my family a better home and they treat me like [expletive].'"

Police said there had been no record of police interaction at the home.  

Meanwhile, hundreds of mourners gathered at the Mosque Foundation in Bridgeview for a prayer in honor of the four women who were killed in what police called a senseless act of domestic violence, something they hope is addressed more in the community.

"It's about not only mental illness, but control and abuse so it's something that it's important," said Fida Zoubeidi, who attended the prayer service. "We need to keep our eyes open."

Funeral services for the women were held Tuesday night. Mourners gathered one by one for a vigil – hours after the mother and three adult sisters were buried.

Hanan Kassem had recently graduated from St. Xavier University with a master's degree in speech therapy.

"I would say that she lit up a room - you know, like you could talk to her about anything," said classmate Corinna Olsen.

Olsen wishes she could talk to her friend one more time. Instead, she and so many are puzzled with the circumstances of the quadruple murder.

"Very, very shocking," said Olsen. "You know, expect this to happen to someone that you know."

Off camera, the nephew of Maher Kassem said the family is torn – shocked at the crime his uncle is accused of committing against a family for which he seemed to care so deeply. 

The nephew added that the family does not know the man who prosecutors are portraying as having committed such a crime. He said prior to Sunday, his uncle really would have done anything for his family members.

Kassem will be due back in court on Feb. 16.

I'm going to take a guess that once he retired he expected to be waited upon like the "man of the house". Instead he was asked to pick up after himself. And instead of accepting that he's s grown man he complained about being treated like a dog. Just based on how a lot of couples divorce after one of them, usually the man, retires and becomes a pest around the house.

[irenewsky]

Anime I watched in 2023 (Part 1)

In honor of the new year, I’m gonna be casting a look back at the anime I watched last year. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a lot of free time to watch anime at the beginning of the year due to university kicking my ass, but after I finally graduated with my master’s degree, I could finally work through some of the backlog I had accumulated on Crunchyroll and Netflix.

Anyway, without further ado, this is a list of anime I watched in 2023 with some short descriptions and my own personal opinions. Let it be known, there is a lot of text in this one.

Also, since there ended up being a lot more shows that I watched than I thought there would be, this had to be cut in two -> Click here for part 2

Some of my older lists:

My favourite animes (Old. Tells of my tastes back in, like, 2018-2020 or something. Updated list coming once I get around to it)

Feel good anime Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Handa-kun

Handa Seishuu is a calligraphy prodigy and a high schooler. For years he has been living under the assumption that his student peers all hate him. This is, of course, a huge misunderstanding. In reality, Handa is very much admired in his school, to the point of being popular. Where did this misunderstanding stem from and how can it be resolved?

12 episodes - comedy, slice of life

I liked this one! Although I did have a little bit of distaste towards one of Handa’s so called friends. You’ll understand who and why if you decide to watch this.

Barakamon

Handa Seishuu, now a 25-year-old man, punches a famous, older calligrapher judging his latest work. As a consequence of his own actions, he is sent to live in small town in the countryside where a group of kids rutinely keeps breaking into his house. Beautiful friendships bloom between Handa and the people of this town.

12 episodes - comedy, seinen, slice of life

Took me an episode or two to get in to, but once I did I thoroughly enjoyed it!

Backflip!!

Shoutaro Futaba enters high school with intense love for sports, especially men’s rythmic gymnastics after he saw Shoushukan high school’s team perform in a competition. He enrolls into said high school and hopes to join the team despite not having any prior experience with gymnastics. Another boy, Ryouya Misato, get recruited alongside him and together with their senpais they start to work towards Inter-high tournament.

12 episodes and an OVA - sports

I started this in the beginning of the year and only got around to finishing it in November. Actually liked this one a lot! The final movie left me feeling so happy yet bittersweet. I recommend this one!

Skip and Loafer

Mitsumi Iwakura leaves her small countryside town and moves to Tokyo to live with her aunt in hopes that attending a prestigious high school would aid with her ultimate goals in life. As the new school year begins, Mitsumi leaves for school with high hopes, gets lost at the subway station, runs into classmate called Sousuke Shima and together the two barely make it to the entrance ceremony. What will her school life shape up to be?

12 episodes - romace, shojo

Nao-chan supremacy! The bestest aunt!

I really liked to animation animation style of this anime. For me, the show looks very soft and fresh in a spring and pastels kind of way. It’s hard to explain but I hope at least one person gets what I mean. I like the characters a lot and their interactions feel nice and grounded. The romance isn’t the main focus in this one, at least not in this season, which I liked since it’s always lovely to just see friendships put into the spotlight.

Buddy Daddies

What do you get if you combine two trained, professional assassins who live together and an accidental child acquisition? A riot of a family dynamic. Katsuki Kurusu and Rei Suwa fumble through their new shared life as parents to a four-year-old Miri Unasaka. What seemed like a temporary situation at first, stops looking temporary when genuine affection and care for the little girl and her well-being start to blossom in both men’s hearts.

13 episodes - action, comedy

This one was so good. I loved every minute of this and the characters’ dynamics worked so well together. Anyone in the shows comment section who complained about Miri being annoying had clearly never been around young children and it showed. Miri is a delightful little girl who loves her dads very much. There was also a fair bit of action in this which was a nice change of pace amidst all the parenthood things.

My New Boss Is Goofy

Momose Kentaro is a 26-year-old office worker working for a marketing firm, Minette. He is new to the job, having just recently quit his previous job due to power harrassement and abuse he received from his former boss. Can his new clumsy and little goofy manager Shirosaki Yuusei make him feel comfortable in his new job?

12 episodes - comedy, slice of life

I love everything about this show. The characters, the storylines in each episode, the art style. This just makes you feel happy and a little giddy. Definitely my favourite show of the year. This one earned the top spot on my rewatchable shows list.

If you liked Play It Cool, Guys or The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague, you might like this one.

Ron Kamonohashi’s Forbidden Deductions

Kamonohashi Ron was the best stundent of an elite detective school until an incident took away his future career path and made him live as a recluse as he refused to receive any information about the world outside his four walls. One day a police detective Totomaru Isshiki is adviced to approach Ron about a series of cases that have stumped the police for a while now. But because Ron is not allowed to do any sleuthing, Totomaru has to work as Ron’s puppet of sorts. Oh, and there is also the thing about having to keep Ron from influencing the killers to take their own lives. Oh well.

13 episodes - comedy, mystery

I’m a sucker for anything ’Sherlock Holmes’ type of media so this show was right up my alley. Eagerly waiting for the confirmed second season.

Play It Cool, Guys

Group of goofy and clumsy guys from different stages of life happen to meet one another and develop heartwarming friendships. Little mishaps won’t ruin their day!

24 (short) episodes - slice of life

Easily one of my favourites of the year. Watching this felt like sipping a cup of hot green tea while wrapped up in a blanket. Instant rewatch.

If you enjoyed The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague or My New Boss is Goofy, you might also like this one

Vanitas no Karte

A vampire named Noé Archiviste is looking for a book called ’the book of Vanitas’ in the 19th century Paris, when he unexpectedly meets a man calling himself Vanitas and carries the book he’s searching for. The Vanitas he meets isn’t the original maker of the book but a doctor who possesses the ability to save vampires by returning their true names to them.

24 episodes - action, fantasy, mystery

Me, mere minutes into the first episode: ”If anything were to happen to Noé, I would kill everyone in this room and the myself.” Anyway, love me some vampire action, especially with that late 1800s, early 1900s Paris vibe. Delicious.

Vampire Dies in No Time

One day vampire hunter Ronald is tasked to infiltrate a castle and save a woman’s son. Things don’t quite go as he expected. Inside the palace, he meets a vampire called Draluc, who is truly so pathetically weak that he turns to ash from smallest of things that ahppen to startle him, and Draluc’s companion, armadillo John. The kid he seeked was totally fine and playing with Draluc’s video games. Oh and Draluc’s castle gets destroyed. Yeah… Ronald has a new roommate now.

2 seasons - comedy, supernatural

This truly is armadillo John’s world and we’re just living in it.

Love me some more vampire action. Only this time it’s a lot less angsty and violent and a lot more ridiculous and goofy. I laughed so much while watching this.

[prairiedust]

one thousand days of destiel, or cas: fuckerupper of endings

Idk why I’m crawling out from under my woodpile to write this, except that it occurred to me that in three years I’ve not rewatched a single episode of Supernatural and have at least two dozen tags yet blacklisted on tumblr, and that I am still not okay about this stupid show.

I never tried to tie up the folklore/author themes I’d been geeking out about through the last seasons, neither as the show was ending nor afterwards. I’ve been simmering now for over a thousand days. I could not even write a complete sentence about spn for all this time, and so I just left that pot on the back burner and did other things. Finished my Master’s degree. Started a new job. Saw my oldest child graduate from high school and move off to college, and helped my younger child move on to sixth grade. Watched some other shows, got a new blorbo, saw some movies, started painting again, picked up a couple of new hobbies as I am wont to do.  

Today is the 5th of November, 2023. (ETA i sat on this for a bit.)

November 5th, 2020, was exactly one thousand and ninety-five days ago.

I see gifs from the show from time to time and I think to myself, wow, that scene/episode/series is completely irrelevant to my life now. I am fine and normal about everything. But if it really was, if I really was, it would not hurt so much to see the gifs and the lyric posts and the amvs when they aren’t caught in my tag filters. So maybe it’s time to get some things out of my head and onto paper.

I genuinely, nearsightedly, naively thought that since Dabb et al had been the ones writing the whole folk v author themes, and thus posing as someone we could count as being on “our side,” the folk-side of the postmodern audience, they’d honor that conceit, even to the very last shot. 

They did not.

And yet… they absolutely did.

Which hurts and is fucked up, but also it’s fine. It’s fine.

In the end, the only “folk hero” (by which I mean the only force in the spn universe capable of warping the threads of the story with any permanence) was Castiel. When Castiel left the story (of his own volition, if you can find a comfortable layer of this meta pie for that concept to rest in,) the writers reverted to God Mode. Because Castiel had been their freedom, their mouthpiece, their avenue for improvisation, and so at the end of the series…

well, we got You changed me/I love you

   •

and then we got “Cas helped.”

So much has been written about that pivot point, but genuinely I don’t give a rat’s ass about rewrites, producers, the cutting room floor, or COVID. It exhausts me, and I’m not beholden to writing about spn for grades or notes or any kind of other bullshit that would oblige me to do research.

I feel like… we got what we got.

So let’s criticize some media.

The Paradox: 

Cas imploded— went from flexing the narrative from within to being narrated by a force from without. And I couldn’t bear to wrap my head around that for a long time. It seemed that this “twist” was beyond cruel. That’s what he got. Vanished and nerfed. For saying ily. That was what happened when he was finally in focus, fully revealed. He lost. He was relegated, along with Jack, to become heaven’s Two Men and a Truck.

It was a trick, the whole “Chuck is a writer” plotline. The Author regained control of the character that had previously been acting independently. Very Pirandellesque, very frustrating, ultimately even tragic.

So, yes, thematically and critically, having Castiel give up his Agency for Characterhood– giving up his ability to create plot for a role as a character in a plot— was ‘literary’ brilliance. It cemented his status as a grand fucker-upper of the show in a way that any show writer “authoring” a requited destiel ending would not and could not have done. Even Jack, I believe, had been “manipulated” into god-hood from within the narrative. Jack was Dabb’s grand metaphor, he was a product of Author. Castiel was… well, he was a chaos engine from the moment he walked through those barn doors. 

To seal the metaphor, the writers ended up living that truth.

I really don’t know if I’m being cogent about this. I’ve been struggling to turn this idea into words for, like, ONE THOUSAND DAYS.

The folk-vs-Author themes becoming A Thing in The Supernatural Show was like a chemical reaction: once the ions had bonded, the resultant compound could not be separated back into the different materials. What on that screen was Author, what was “author,” ie show writer, and what was text-experiencer-as-author? Where did the Sam-as-magician arc go, what were we supposed to do with the semi-metatextual moments that Mary had, having been brought back into the narrative by Amara, not Chuck? Everything got so out of control. Add in a smidgen of secret-sauce-TPTB possibly superseding the author/Author, and what you get is that ridiculous mess of a final two episodes.

It’s not about the rusty trombone or the butt hole pleasures. It’s about love. And kids.

Thank you, hon. It really is. (The above line was left in this doc by my spouse. It is a quote from The 40-Year-Old Virgin. I’ll allow it.)

Anyway. It was hard to see past the sound and the fury of it all. 

*****

I was feeling nostalgic several months ago and took a swim in my old meta tags; I found a gem from season…10? Idk and idc, but it was from “The Things We Left Behind.” 

I compared Claire to Sleeping Beauty (a tale that got a lot of use in later seasons) and wrote: “I tend to think that Castiel’s entire arc is about desperate and unintentionally misguided attempts to Change The Ending of whatever story he’s shown up in” and reading that again really kind of sucker-punched me.

‘We’re making it up as we go’ was the crux of Cas’ existence. Remember that half-related story in Baby wherein Cas got himself hitched to the Djinn queen? Remember when Jack died and the Empty came to claim him in Heaven and Cas made that terrible bargain? The last-minute attempt to gank Lucifer that actually got him killed and sent to The Empty?

Time and time again, Castiel’s go-to for “changing the narrative,” for advancing his plot, is self-sacrifice. In Chuck’s house against the archangel. The Leviathan disaster. Saying ‘yes’ to Lucifer. The Bargain for Jack in Heaven. And those times it worked out. Not without great pain for both the other characters and for the viewers, but he always came back. 

And with each return, his motivation became clearer. (Picture your favorite screencap of Dean here.)

Cas’ love grew, crystalized, and then disappeared, like frost on the windowpane of a house on fire.

If they had continued the CasDean storyline, it would have ultimately been The Author IRL writing/creating/manifesting/materializing ‘destiel.’ And so by putting a torch to all of that architecture, they essentially gave everything to us. Unspoilt. Fingerprints wiped. Serial numbers scratched away. Jailbroken. Whatever floats your boat. 

The confession was both affirmation and abnegation. Symbolically, The AuthorTM had washed his hands of it, but with destiel out of the picture, The Author also got his ending.

This is why “Cas helped” felt like a ‘fuck you.’ If Cas was out of the narrative, why did he come back as one of Heaven’s real estate developers? It did not fit. 

And yet. It did. Because Chuck won. Chuck, or everything that an Author represents in television land– TPTB, showrunner legacies, multiple producers, a chaotic and treacherous and politically messy writer’s room, multiple incompatible or unresolvable MOs and visions— all that ends up being packaged and presented as a single unerring vision.

So I have to admit, although I don’t have to do it with any ion of grace, that in the end it was pretty fucking smart.

Destiel is ours. Destiel is the folk ending. The Author never got to touch it, never so much as breathed on it, was so far divorced from the concept that the absence thereof going forward hit us like a truck full of bricks.

Yes, it hurts that Dean was just left on the floor until the credits rolled, that there were no final words, no ensuing acknowledgement. 

I’ll go so far outside the Text as to address the ‘Dean can’t reciprocate’ direction from one of the scripts:

If Dean had made a single move onscreen. Uttered a word. In Despair or either of the other two episodes.

Destiel would have been claimed by The Author. 

Anyway. I’ve been collecting posts now and again under the tag ‘the endless folklore of supernatural.’ For three years, the fandom has continued to loot, to ransack, to graffiti, to create and re-create, to burn, to mix, and to distill. 

There’s all kinds of things in that tag, it’s sort of a kitchen sink of everything that I thought was even tangentially relevant to folk-Destiel and the postmodern experience of creating text as a reader/viewer etc. 

We turned a literary story based on an urban folktale back into folklore. 

And so it goes.

I doubt I will do much more analysis of this show, even if it comes back, and I unfortunately can’t touch The Winchesters. But I can’t say I never will. I just thought three years, one thousand days, was a pretty good place to leave a marker on the trail.

—

Epilogue: About The Winchesters:

I did not finish watching The Winchesters because of something wildly, randomly, but highly personally triggering that was built into one of the episodes; however I am very sorry that it was canceled or possibly ironically lost to the WGA-SAGAFTRA strike of 2023.

“What is the maddest thing a man can do? Let himself die.” That’s the clue that leads Castiel to his hidden grace in a copy of The Man of LaMancha in 10.18 ‘The Book of the Damned,’ written by one Robbie Thompson.

I noticed from the get-go that Thompson gave Carlos the last name Cervantez. He was nodding to the self-immolation of the last cadre of writers of Supernatural and stating clearly that he was holding a pen, not a match.

Want some very fun and amusing and wildly pertinent facts about the Don Quixote books?

The narrative conceit of Don Quixote IN THE FIRST PLACE LOL is that Cervantes claims to have found a manuscript by a historian named Cide Hamete Benegeli and Cervantes thought the story was pretty neat, if a little rough; Cervantes retells the story for us from what he’d read by that author, distilling the “original” into the book we experience as Don Quixote the Man of La Mancha.

The final words of Cervantes’ Part One are “perhaps another will sing with a better pick.”

Later, someone publishing under the pseudonym Alonso Fernandez de Avellaneda wrote their own part two, feeling that the original author was taking too long to get their ass in gear (or judging by their own preface they felt that Cervantes had not even done the original story justice in the first place. Which is A Mood.)

So when someone actually did have the audacity to run off with his characters and commit word crimes with them, Cervantes absolutely obliterated the dude in his own Part Two. 

Thompson left Spn after season eleven. But, lest someone think this is a commentary about fan fic, he also wrote the episode Fan Fiction. So anyway all the Cervantez-Cervantes business was certainly something.

[myrebelancestorsdiedforme]

Brett Ball 🫡 Salute😍✊🏿🙏🏿

It was very early in Brett Ball’s experience as a student-athlete with the women’s basketball team that things did not go her way. She came to South Carolina in the summer of 2011 as a scholarship athlete. But before the season began, she was diagnosed with myocardial non-compaction in the left ventricle— a rare genetic heart condition that made it impossible for her to play basketball.

photos of brett ball as a team member and as a Ph.D. candidate

Years: 2011-15

Position: Team vlogger

Key stats: Ball was diagnosed with a heart condition and never got to play for the Gamecocks, but she stayed on scholarship all four years and helped fans get an inside look at the team through her behind-the-scenes videos.

Degrees: Bachelor’s in criminal justice, UofSC; master’s in integrated communications, University of Mississippi

Current position: Ph.D. student in health communication, University of Florida

“I totally could have just said, ‘I’m leaving, this is not going to work out for me,’ ” says Ball, a Ph.D. student in health communication at the University of Florida. “But Coach Staley honored my scholarship. I was still part of the team. When we would travel, I was there; when we had film, I was there; I still attended practices. I did pretty much everything the team did, except work out and play.

“She still coached me as if I was on the court, but in a different way,” Ball says of Staley. “I had to be on time for practice. I had to be on time for class. She didn’t let me just go about in my own way.

“At first I didn’t like it because I was just so frustrated with not being able to play. I thought, ‘I’m not playing so why do I need to do these things.’ But it still made me feel part of the team because I was held to the same standards.

“I don’t know if she had ever had a player under her wing who didn’t play. What are you going to say to make them feel better? She would say there was nothing she could do to help me play, and the only thing she can do is be a guide and I totally respect that. The best thing she could do was be a support system.”

Staley and the basketball media team came up with an idea that Ball would do videos with her teammates to highlight their many off-the-court talents and build up excitement among fans. The show was called Ballin’ with Brett.

“Our team was pretty dynamic,” says Ball, who graduated from UofSC with a degree in criminal justice. “We could have had our own TV show. We had rappers, comedians, drama queens. We definitely had a team full of personalities.”

Producing and hosting the videos got Ball interested in journalism and communications — an interest she has pursued since her time at South Carolina, earning a master’s in integrated communications from the University of Mississippi in her home state.

“It was as good an experience as I could have had without being able to play ball.”

She expects to complete her dissertation and Ph.D. in May. Her research focus is on mental health among African American female athletes, a subject she knows much about.

“Being nine hours away from home, if you’re not somewhere with resources — and USC had resources from A-to-Z — it can be difficult,” she says. “The school had people there who helped with the stress. We had two Black psychologists in the athletic department and that was really helpful for me. That’s how I got started looking into the mental health of athletes.”

Ball says she talked with her advisers and mentors at UofSC before each major life decision she has made. She says she is uncertain where her Ph.D. will take her, but lessons learned from her time with Staley and the Gamecocks women’s basketball program will never leave her.

“I am really interested in ways to improve the mental health of student-athletes. I want to figure out ways to destigmatize mental health and mental illnesses within the athletic and sports space.

“I want to use my experience with mental health, my experience not being able to play and experience with cases of depression and anxiety and I want to be able to help athletes, even if it is from an academic standpoint, about what Black female student athletes have to go through."

[oswaldsleftbicep]

headcanos for the college life of the boys, pls?😭 (+ what their major would be)

college life

,,,,,anon are you in my head?? i shit you not, this exact scenario has been sitting in my notes app for like a month jskdfnkjs that being said, this will all be based off my own experiences with american universities

i'm actually looking to go back to college! i reapplied for my university, and also applied to another just in case, but i'm anxious to get back to it

lots of changes have been happening lately.

genre: other, crack if you squint

cw: language, no beta we die like men

Lucia

❧ most definitely majors in business or communications, but minors in political science (polisci)

❧ he joined a frat as a first year, got a little freaked out over the hazing part but was in too deep to back out, so he stuck it out

❧ idk how frats work, but he ended up becoming a big to a few freshies in his later years :,)

❧ does debate club/moot court as an extracurricular and comes up with the most bullshit arguments that,, surprisingly make sense

❧ since he has the means and the will, he goes to grad school for his masters degree but goes for something more to do with law or criminal justice, having been inspired by moot court

❧ however, he doesn't go for a phd and doesn't go to law school or anything, settling for a job in local government

Levy

❧ starts out as a regular history major, but by his second year he changes it to specifically military history, with a minor in medieval and early modern studies (mems)

❧ spends most of his time in the history building or at the campus library, where he has a part time job, but he also made it a point to join the university's polo team. anytime he's stress out about something, he'll go and care for the horses

❧ makes regular appointments with his advisor, but they became so frequent that the two of them end up getting coffee once a month and to catch up

❧ most definitely is on the dean's list and graduates with high honors

❧ starts being a ta in the second semester of his third year, and does it every semester following. he's the sort of ta that you either find annoying and insufferable, or you have a massive crush on

❧ goes on to get his masters and phd in military history, concentrating in some probably really obscure period of time

Mefy

❧ kinda a mix between his brothers, he's a polisci and mems double major; he couldn't pick which he liked more so he double majored instead of making one a minor

❧ out of curiosity, he went to go see the theater department's production of the iliad and was enamored at the idea of putting on shows of ancient stories and plays, so he took it on as an extracurricular

❧ he tries to keep his newfound hobby a secret from his brothers, but they eventually find out and come to every one of his shows :,)

❧ he does well in class and participates enough so that the profs all know him by name and are fond of him, but mefy secretly hates most of them, save for his war history prof and the theater director

❧ carried on to grad school, focusing on the politics of war in early and medieval times, but doesn't pursue more than a masters

Oswald

❧ started out as a geography and environmental science (ges) major, but unintentionally selected the bachelor of science path instead of the bachelor of arts path

❧ cue his horror when he sees that he has to take not just bio, but math up to calculus and physics

❧ he tries to push through, he really does, and he comes to enjoy a good chunk of his sciencey classes,,, but eventually it was too much, and he brought it up to his advisor, who suggested to switch to a ba, and poor mans was like "a what??"

❧ but he's doing much better now as a ba, and discovered a new passion for environmental justice!!

❧ got a job working with the campus maintenance crew and helps take care of the landscaping; he also joins the environmental club which helps keep the campus clean and safe, and they also get to work in the compost gardens!

❧ he unfortunately wasn't able to consider grad school due to funding, but with the help of his advisor, he was able to get a certificate and an internship in agriculture!

Kaim

❧ ok it's so hard to imagine this man in college,, he just seems so old to me lol

❧ but we can all agree he most definitely attended an ivy league school, majoring in music and joining the campus orchestra

❧ he also found interest in the culinary program and got a little job with the campus event catering staff to help prepare the food and serve guests at fancy events, and he stuck with it for so long that he became part of their management!

❧ his experience with that job lead him to discover that his university offers a hospitality studies program, and he got his certificate in that

❧ he was also absolutely an ra and enforced his rules so much that he had to be moved to a majority upperclassmen hall because all the freshies loathed him and kept asking admin to change dorm halls lol

❧ got really good grades and made the deans list, and actually got scholarship money to go to grad school, but he just simply didn't want to and was content with his bachelors degree

Mikael

❧ he majored in astronomy, with a minor in linguistics and ancient studies. he originally planned to major in astrophysics, but upon realizing just how much math would be involved, he was repulsed and settled for astronomy

❧ it's not that he can't do math, he very much knows how to and he's incredibly intelligent, he simply just doesn't want to do it lol

❧ he's sort of an enigma on campus, he's got this otherworldly air about him, like he's not from this time; whether that means he's a visitor from the past or future is up to interpretation, but it intimidates the hell out of everyone else that he's mostly left alone

❧ he attends all of the ancient studies and mems events, and he's also in the astronomy club; in fact, he's one of the only members of his club to attend every single meeting without fail, no matter how late in the night it is

❧ attends grad school and gets his masters in ancient linguistics, and later focuses on how ancient civilizations interpreted astronomy and how it affected their culture, which earns him his phd

❧ rubs his phd in lucia's face at any chance he gets, practically forces the man to call him dr. mikael

Ricardo

❧ tried his hardest to pick the easiest major, but none of the classes were interesting to him and his advisor all but begged this man to pick something he's actually interested in; so now he's a war history major lol

❧ he also joins a frat, influenced by media's portrayal of them and assuming that he's gonna party every night and get loads of bodies; however, he doesn't realize that he actually needs to keep a certain gpa to stay in the frat, and that he has rules he needs to follow, so he almost gets kicked out several times

❧ he shapes up pretty well by his second year, which is also when he looks into volunteering with campus police and eventually gets a part time job with them

❧ he does manage to graduate on time, and is more than content with just his bachelors; he told his advisor he'd rather shove a gun up his ass than go to grad school

❧ his advisor, along with all of his profs hated him, and are so happy to see him gone

Noel

❧ surprisingly, he majors in biology and is on the premed track for pharmaceuticals; he has an interest in the medical field, but doesn't want to be a doctor or nurse, so he figured working in a pharmacy or even making medicine would be the way to go

❧ also surprisingly, he's like really good at the more difficult subjects, like organic chemistry. he's flying through the work during discussions, to which his partners are all like "???? teach us???"

❧ unfortunately, he is not a good teacher. he knows the content, he really does, but he cannot for the life of him understand how he got there. "you just,,, do it? like write it all down, and convert it and you're done" i've never taken orgo

❧ it got to a point where the prof was convinced he was cheating, but when they tested him, he was even able to mental math that shit and he was left alone lol

❧ stumbled in on the cosmetology students working on their hair dressing, and was like "can i do that?", scaring the hell out of everyone when did he get here?? but they took him in and he helps them study and practice

❧ other than that, he spends his spare time hanging out in the wellness center or outdoor zen gardens, and he also joined the environmental club to help upkeep the gardens makes sure to hand the smelliest piles of compost to oswald

Lucas

❧ double majors in art history and literature, so he spends a lot of time in the humanities and fine arts buildings

❧ at least five people in all of his classes have a massive crush on him; he's just so pretty and smart and he reads??? awooga!! but most of those crushes dissipate once they try and have a conversation with him, they just can't follow along with his train of thought

❧ speaking of which, his profs either love him or hate him. he'll come up with the most bizarre and elaborate interpretations of texts and art and still somehow have solid reasons to back it up. anytime they have socratic style discussions in class, no one can follow up or argue when he speaks because,,, what the hell did he even just say?

❧ but every now and then, he'll break through to them all and say something that, one, makes sense and, two, is so though provoking and interesting that it leads into an hour long discussion and research party

❧ decided to be an ra in his second year, but ultimately stepped down by the end of that year due to stress. now it's like he did a full 180, breaking every rule he ever enforced, especially the curfew one. it's so common to spot him walking around campus at ungodly hours of the night that he's essentially become a sort of cryptid

❧ he uses his free time volunteering in community service and activism. anytime there's a protest on campus that supports a good cause, he's there the entire time. he'll also help organize events like that, passing around and posting flyers across campus

Kurt

❧ majors in zoology with a minor in environmental studies

❧ i keep picturing my physical geography prof who was so into birds, like a stupid amount, i think the two would get along well

❧ he starts a club that focuses on caring for campus wildlife and making a safe environment for them, be it picking up litter or putting up bird feeders

❧ he runs the campus shoot-your-shot page, and is surprisingly good and matching up submissions and helping people find their person

[kuramirocket]

Mexican biologist Yuliana Bedolla 

Off Mexico's west coast, the Baja California Pacific Islands are key global nesting sites for 23 seabird species and Natividad Island shelters 90 percent of the breeding population of the Black-vented Shearwater (Puffinus opisthomelas).

Mexican conservation biologist Yuliana Rocío Bedolla Guzmán, Director of the Marine Birds Project at Grupo de Ecología y Conservación de Islas (GECI) says that invasive mammals like cats and rats wiped out at least 27 seabird colonies in the past.

The researchers have been working with fishing cooperatives to decrease the likelihood of reintroductions that would lead to expensive eradication efforts.

"In 2021, we created the local community group “Líderes Comunitarios'' formed by enthusiastic and committed women who have received formal training on island biosecurity and bird identification, and are becoming agents of change in their communities," Bedolla says.

Recently, Bedolla won a 2023 Whitley Award from UK charity Whitley Fund for Nature (WFN) and will use the funding to boost the role of local women and fishing cooperative.

"The goal is to continue preventing the accidental introduction of invasive mammals on Natividad and San Benito Oeste islands by actively involving local leaders and fishing cooperatives in biosecurity protocols," she says.

"My Grain of Sand"

Bedolla grew up far from the sea in Moroleón, a small town in central Mexico, where she enjoyed being out in nature.

"But I had my Eureka moment when I learned to snorkel when I was 12 years old at a beach in Zihuatanejo, Guerrero, in the Mexican Pacific," she says adding that she remembered a feeling of amazement, wonder and a new sense of connection to nature.

"That experience was life-changing for me and marked the beginning of my journey as a conservationist," Bedolla says, "From that moment on, I knew I wanted to become a marine biologist and contribute with my grain of sand."

She would go on to study Marine Biology at the Universidad Autónoma de Baja California Sur in La Paz, Baja California Sur, Mexico, learning to dive and study coral reefs and associated invertebrates on several islands in the Gulf of California.

Bedolla would contact GECI in the course of her masters degree and years later, after a Phd in Germany, GECI offered her the directorship of the Marine Birds Project.

Bedolla says that being from the Global South helps her to bring diverse perspectives and approaches to scientific research, which can lead to more innovative and creative solutions.

The San Benito Islands, which is among the islands Yuliana Bedolla is trying to protect from invasive species

Yuliana is a marine biologist, graduated with honors from the Autonomous University of Baja California Sur (UABCS).

She is a Master in Coastal Oceanography from the Autonomous University of Baja California (UABC) and a PhD candidate from the Justus Liebig University of Giessen in Germany. For her doctorate, she obtained a scholarship in Germany. Yuliana speaks Spanish and English and has basic knowledge of the German language. Her doctoral research focuses on the foraging ecology of three petrel species that nest in the San Benito Archipelago, in the Pacific of Baja California.

She began collaborating with the Ecology and Conservation of Islands Group, A.C., (GECI), in 2009 as a field biologist, and is currently the director of the Seabird Project, which aims to restore and conserve seabirds through the use of social attraction systems in conjunction with systematic monitoring, research and environmental education. She has carried out numerous research studies with national and international institutions. Her scientific publications in international journals focus on the response of seabirds to environmental conditions, the parasites that infect seabirds and the response of native fauna to the eradication of invasive mammals.

She has collaborated with several national seabird conservation programs and has been directly involved in environmental restoration projects in Isla Isabel, San Benito Archipelago, Banco Chinchorro and Arrecife Alacranes, related to the eradication of invasive rodents for the benefit of seabird colonies, among other island species. Her activities at GECI include project planning, staff coordination and supervision, applied research and monitoring, environmental education with local communities and dissemination of information in conferences and scientific reports and publications.

Source

[kalevalakryze]

Baylan Skoll was never chosen to be a padawan, in this essay I will...

(this is only going to look familiar to a handful of you)

Warning, long post below with excerpts + notes about "The Jedi Path" by Daniel Wallace

"Everybody thinks they know what a Jedi is-that we all serve in the Army of the Light and fight the Sith Lords, or that we're all lightsaber battlemasters and starfighter aces. It just isn't so. Jedi can serve the Republic in other ways too. The Jedi Service Corps is an honorable alternative for any graduating Initiate, and he or she should be proud to serve among its ranks. When most initiates hit early adolescence, they seek to pair up with Masters to begin their Padawanship apprenticeships. If you are not selected, then what? You can try again the following season, but eventually, the Temple Instructors may tell you that you've run out of chances-and then the Reassignment Council steps in. So I'm thinking there was just something Baylan couldn't get; Maybe even the connection to a Jedi Master, he just didn't seem like the kind of Jedi that should have been on the battlefront, he was more of a homebody Jedi, like Yoda, or even Jocasta Nu. Maybe, after failing so often, the Reassignment Council steps in, and I see him joining the Educational branch, staying at the temple to help teach and to help in the archives, one of these devouts of the pillar of knowledge. A Note in the Book From Palpatine: "I imprisoned the surviving Jedi Service Corps Members on Byss. Even the strongest were easy to turn to the dark side." Maybe Baylan was one of these survivors, and while it's clear he didn't go full dark, what did he have to do to survive? Knowing that the younglings he'd so caringly guided were lost to the Force, that the world he'd devoted himself to studying and understanding was gone, and that this new world was just dark, and it was an 'adapt or die' situation The Jedi Path section about the EduCorps: The Education Corps, or EduCorps, consists of Scholars, teachers, and archivists. All Jedi are expected to be teachers to some degree, but the EduCorps goes far beyond that. They work under the supervision of the Temple's Chief Librarian and spend most of their days cataloging and translating. So my thoughts here are, as an archivist who spends his days combing through Jedi Holocrons, he would hear about the Mother, or Abeloth, would read about these Mortis Gods and have an intimate understanding. And when the Jedi were killed, he could recall these stories, he was the last one alive who'd ever heard them from the holocrons, after all. He would be able to remember the powers these holocrons detailed the gods as having, would trust that if anyone could save their history, it would be them, but only the Mother sounds powerful enough to stop the Empire. Finding Shin was a mistake. He was no Master, after all. He'd been granted the rank of General in the republic like all the others, yet he didn't command an army, he worked in libraries and traveled to conquered/liberated worlds to read their texts and to enter their stories into the history of the republic. He goes to a planet in the expansion zone, and he meets a child, there are so few left in this world, no one for him to share his stories with, that when she displays force sensitivity, he takes her, just as the Jedi had done to younglings all those years ago. And he trains her, he gives her a Padawan's braid and he calls her Initiate, and when it's time for her Initiate Trials, he is happy to accept her as his Padawan, like no one had ever done for him. And Shin is so attentive and an amazing student, just like the younglings in the temple, but he cannot burden her with the knowledge of Abeloth. Does not want to ruin the perception he knew she was creating of the Jedi, but he also keeps her training limited, 'The old ways led them to ruin so we will create our own,' 'yes,master' etc etc

[inklingofadream]

Probably very long ramble about age, job experience, etc for the OG Archives gang (teen jon au ppl get tentatively excited)

Martin's birth year is pretty solidly 1987, because when he says he's 29 we have a semi-solid date for that; Jon is roughly the same, because he claims to be turning 38 in the birthday tape, in 2015 or '16, adding 10 to either his new or former age (as Sasha died in July 2016, but we don't know when exactly Jon's birthday is [unless you are a Jonny Sims just gave Jon his own birthday and never changed it as Jon became a v separate character, in which case Jon's birthday would be November 3, 1988]). Assuming a Bachelor's degree and on-time graduation, he would have graduated in 2009. He started at the Institute in 2011, and may or may not have had an office job in the two years in between. Or maybe he graduated late to make my life easier!

Martin left school to work full-time when he was 17, eventually landing his job at the Institute. Given that the search took long enough for him to decide he wouldn't be able to get the kind of money he needed on the back of his real CV, I would guess that he had some prior work experience, part-time stuff possibly dating back to before he quit school and similar stuff in between dropping out and getting hired at the Institute. He was working at the Institute in 2009, when he would have been 22, meaning a maximum of 9 years of other work experience. Realistically, I don't know that his mother's health was pressing enough for him to have started working at 13, but 15, when there would be fewer restrictions (and also because very few 13 year olds can pass for older, at least consistently). He had to get desperate enough to work up to lies as big as a master's in parapsychology (I'd assume he tried to pass with a Bachelor's of whatever first? Or maybe he was just tailoring his fake credentials to the posting's minimum requirements). Regardless, my assumption would be that he had a couple years of experience in customer service roles of various description.

Tim has a Bachelor's degree and was in publishing in 5 years before Danny died. Assuming 4 years to finish his degree (and he graduated with the highest honors possible, thank you Wikipedia page about UK degree classification) and the publishing job being his first job after graduation, he would be 31 in 2013, for a birth year of 1982, five or six years older than Jon and Martin and the only one of the four we know for certain has experience with a non-Institute office job.

Sasha is an information void (😭). She worked in Artefact Storage for 3 months, spent an unknown amount of time in Research, and transferred to the Archives with Jon. My inclination is to put her a bit older than Jon and Martin, but not more than a few years older than Tim. Call it 30 to 35 at the start of the show. We can guess at prior experience based on her behavior, but I don't know that that's a great indicator. Publishing is a pretty tough industry, and Tim was still the driving force of the wine in the middle of the workday, with both his bosses thing at the birthday party. I think even before things go bad the Institute is just on the casual side of things. For my purposes, I'm considering the Institute Sasha's primary professional experience.

By which I mean, someone else should benefit from the hour and a half I spent researching this unanswerable question

[lucygold95]

Letters of appreciation from Korean Phantom actors after their first performances. (* I add English translations.)

This is musical actor 전동석.

I sincerely thank to you who were with me on the day my dream came true.

It was such an honor and I hope my heart reaches all the audiences.

I want to be(=will be) an angel of music for all of you until the end (of the performance).

(* 전동석 did Yeston & Kopit's Phantom several times before. And when COVID-19 was around the world, he said smiliar thing to musical Phantom(Yeston & Kopit) audiences: "At this moment when the world collapsed, we(Phantom actors) will be(=want to be) Your Music.")

– 전동석 –

(* 전동석 is a famous musical actor in Korea(He did Dracula(Wildhorn's Dracula), Tod(Elisabeth), Rudolf(Both Elisabeth and The Last Kiss), Roméo, 이훤, Hedwig, Mozart, 준, Gringoire, Jekyll & Hyde, Count Axel von Fersen, Phantom and many other roles).

Also he majored opera as a baritone at the 한국예술종합대학(Korea National University of Arts. This university' vocal department is considered one of the best vocal departments in Korea, along with 서울 대학교(Seoul National University)'s vocal department).

From auditions to practice to previews... The time that doesn't seem to come has finally come.

I had many feelings after my first musical debut.

(* Baritone 김주택(His stage name is 'Julian Kim') graduated from the 'Conservatorio di Musicica Giuseppe Verdi di Milano' with a unanimous highest score by the judges and he did many operas in Italy, Korea, China and Peru(Especially in Italy). But POTO is his first musical.)

Thank you to those who worked hard until the first performance.

Thank you for allowing me – who is still lacking – to be on stage and giving me a big round of applause.

I'll continue to prepare hard and come back with the best performances!

Thank you!

– 김주택 –

I was afraid and sometimes I wanted to run away. (I thought like this:) 'I don't think this is fit for me... It's too big thing to me...'.

I was tired of fighting against many prejudices and stereo types alone.

(* 조승우 is considered one of the best actors in Korea(He is very famous movie/drama/musical actor in Korea. Almost all Koreans know him),

but there have been mixed reviews about his singing.)

But many people, including our team, gave me courage.

Finally, the show started and I took my first step on the stage with a earnest heart. I trembled a lot and made mistakes, but as I said before, I think I kept my promise to do my best on stage.

(* According to articles, 조승우 studied opera and took vocal lessons right after he was selected for the role of Phantom.)

Thank you to those who support and applaud to me even though I lack; Thanks to you, it was a day full of gratitude.

I'll more sincerely do my best. Thank you.

– 조승우 –

+

최재림 did not participate in Busan production, but he will participate in Seoul production.

* 최재림 is a famous musical actor in Korea.

He played Rent(Tom Collins), Hairspray, 남한산성, Spring Awakening, Next to Normal, Assassins, 가야십이지곡, Jesus Christ Superstar(Both Jesus and Judas), Next to Normal, Kinky boots, Notre-Dame de Paris, (Musical) Aida, Chicago, Hadestown, Matilda and more. And as far as I know he did at least one opera too.

Because he majored in opera(He began his studies as a baritone, but soon he turned to tenor) at the university.(He graduated with top honors at 경원 University 성악과(Department of Vocal Music).)

Also, he studied acting at the 한국예술종합대학(Korea National University of Arts) and earned a master's degree in a thesis on musical vocalization.

[namshyeee]

Lynn Yamada Davis, a TikTok creator who entertained millions of people with her zany style and cooking tips on her account, Cooking With Lynja, died on Jan. 1 in Red Bank, N.J. She was 67.

The cause of death, in Riverview Medical Center, was esophageal cancer, her daughter Hannah Mariko Shofet said. Ms. Davis lived in Holmdel, N.J.

Ms. Davis began creating the wholesome Cooking With Lynja videos in 2020 with her youngest child, Tim Davis, to help keep up his cinematography skills during the pandemic lockdown.

Her social media accounts have remained active after her death, because she had asked him to post videos that had already been edited. One such video shows the two of them looking for truffles in Italy.

“My mom was like my partner in crime,” Mr. Davis, 27, who edited the TikTok account, said in a phone interview.

Something else she requested, Mr. Davis said, was that he post a few older videos that they had made together about a decade ago.

Those early versions of what would later become an international TikTok sensation known for their lightheartedness were a way for Mr. Davis to learn how to make the food his mother cooked “as well as have a time capsule,” he said.

After the last Cooking With Lynja videos are uploaded the account will stop posting, he said.

Cooking With Lynja began in 2020 and gained wide attention with a video in which the 5-foot-tall Ms. Davis makes a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich while showing off some quirky dance moves. Soon, about one million people were following her offbeat content. (Today, the account has more than 17 million followers.) Potential sponsors noted the videos’ success and started contacting her.

More than three years later, the Cooking With Lynja YouTube account has nearly 10 million subscribers, and Ms. Davis’s Instagram account has more than two million followers.

In 2022, Forbes included Ms. Davis on its annual “50 over 50” list, which pays tribute to successful women over 50 years old. And she won Streamy Awards, honoring online videos, in the editing and food categories. In 2023, she attended the Forbes Women’s Summit in Abu Dhabi, where she spoke on a panel.

Lynn Yamada Davis was born on July 31, 1956, in New York City and lived most of her early life in Fort Lee, N.J. Her father, Tadao Yamada, was a businessman, and her mother, Mabel Fujisake Yamada, ran the household.

She graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1977 with a bachelor’s degree in civil engineering and earned a master’s degree in business administration as well as public health from the Columbia University Business School.

Ms. Davis worked for Bell Labs (now AT&T Labs) and had a long career in telecommunications before her unexpected TikTok fame, Ms. Shofet, her daughter, said.

“She had this whole chapter as a groundbreaking female engineer, and she was very proud of that,” she added.

As a TikTok star Ms. Davis would get recognized around the world, including in Japan and Italy, where she traveled with her youngest son, Tim. Sean Davis, her other son, is a professional soccer player who used to be a midfielder for the New York Red Bulls and now plays for the Nashville Soccer Club.

“She was my first coach,” he said. When she would visit him in Nashville, he said, she’d get recognized in the street, often by young people who use TikTok a lot.

“That’s how I realized how famous she was,” Sean Davis said. “People would ask for pictures, and I would take the picture.”

Most of all, Cooking With Lynja provided Ms. Davis with much fun, Tim Davis said. With special effects that have tiny versions of Ms. Davis flying across the screen and quotes like “Lynja’s got that dope!” her videos appealed to several generations of viewers. In her videos she is seen preparing all kinds of foods, heard sinking her teeth into crispy sandwiches or potatoes, and shown karate-chopping Ramen noodles and much more.

Ms. Davis was diagnosed with throat cancer in 2019, which affected her voice. Two years later she was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. In one video, Ms. Davis bakes cookies for the medical workers who treated her.

In addition to her daughter Hannah and her sons, Ms. Davis is survived by her second husband, Keith Davis; another daughter, Becky Steinberg; two siblings, Jay Yamada and Karen Dolce Yamada; and two grandchildren. Her first marriage, to Hank Steinberg, ended in divorce.

In her final years Ms. Davis got to travel around the world, meet people as well as cook and eat amazing food, Sean Davis said. He added, “I just think her final chapter was exactly how she would have wanted it to be written.”

A correction was made on Jan. 12, 2024: An earlier version of a picture caption with this article misstated the surname of Lynn Yamada Davis’s brother. He is Jay Yamada, not Jay Davis.

Article by: Claire Moses

Related link: https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/11/dining/lynja-davis-cooking-tiktok-dead.html%23:~:text%3DLynn%2520Yamada%2520Davis%252C%2520a%2520TikTok,daughter%2520Hannah%2520Mariko%2520Shofet%2520said.&ved=2ahUKEwj54vHkmNmDAxUCwjgGHcmJD4IQFnoECBAQBQ&usg=AOvVaw3LVu4CRgXFfh9eWXrv6Yhy

Namo, Julius

Sarmiento, Jizel Chinnji

Salamanca, Amalia

[gradsireninc]

How To Get A Job Without Experience (With 6 Career Options)

Are you wondering if you can get a job without any technical or professional experience?

Getting a job without any prior work experience can seem daunting. But it's not impossible! You can convince employers to take a chance on you with the right strategy and perseverance. This article will take you to some effective ways to land a job without experience. You'll get to know six career opportunities that don't require any experience or minimal expertise.

Let's dive in.

Effective Ways To Land A Job Without Experience

Here are some effective ways to help you make a strong case to potential employers and open doors to intriguing prospects. You can utilize these ways whether you're a recent graduate, switching to a different sector, or simply trying to start over.

Leverage Your Education

Highlight your academic credentials, especially if you have a degree that relates to the field or role you're pursuing. Coursework, projects, internships, leadership activities, and any honors or awards show your capabilities.

For example, if you majored in marketing, emphasize any analysis or campaigns you did for class. Or, if you're applying for a software engineering role, describe coding projects and hackathons you participated in.

Be prepared to talk intelligently about what you studied and how it prepares you for the job's responsibilities.

Showcase Transferable Skills

The fact that you don't have direct experience in a particular job doesn't mean you don't have relevant skills. The key is identifying abilities from other areas of life that translate.

For instance, if you're trying to get a retail job, customer service skills from past restaurant work are highly applicable. For an office manager role, administrative skills from coordinating student group events would be valuable. Make a master list of all your strongest soft and hard skills. Then, customize it for each job by picking 3-5 that fit the role.

Highlight Volunteer Experience

Any volunteer work can help fill in experience gaps on your resume. Nonprofit, community, religious, or other voluntary activities demonstrate responsibility, teamwork, dedication and other qualities employers seek.

Just be sure to frame your accomplishments from a professional standpoint. For example, "raised over $5,000 in donations" is better than "participated in a charity fundraiser".

Complete Internships

Internships are like work experience training wheels. They give you professional skills and knowledge and let you start building a network.

There are abundant internship opportunities, paid and unpaid, that don't strictly require you to already have experience. Look for openings at small or mid-sized companies that may be more flexible.

Successful interns are often converted to full-time hires post-graduation. Even if that doesn't happen, it's still incredible resume fodder.

Showcase Related Side Hustles

Freelancing, consulting, business ventures, etc., demonstrate you have initiative, can generate income, and pick up new skills quickly. Even informal side work like tutoring, web design, or selling crafts has merit.

For example, if you're seeking a full-time marketing position, tout the social media management or influencer marketing services you offer. Anything where you actively had to market yourself and acquire clients is impressive.

Just make sure you can back up any claimed skills if probed in interviews.

Ace the Interview

At the interview stage, how you present yourself matters more than a thin resume. Confidence, professionalism, problem-solving skills, bona fide interest in the company and quick learning ability can all override experience gaps.

Come equipped with thoughtful questions, ideas and visions for how you'd tackle the role. When asked about experience gaps, pivot to your assets.

For instance, "While I don't yet have full-time social media management experience, I learned XYZ skills managing the Instagram account for my college basketball team, which helped increase engagement by 30%."

Sell how you can provide unique value. With preparation and passion, you can make employers believe in your potential.

The key is convincing hiring managers you have the right foundation and can excel on the job. With resilience and utilizing these tactics, you can transition successfully into a new career without directly relevant experience.

Just highlight your transferable abilities, be willing to start at entry level and work hard to prove yourself. The rest will fall into place.

6 Career Opportunities Options You Can Pursue Without Having Any Prior Experience

Entry-Level Customer Service Representative: Customer service roles like call center reps or customer support specialists rarely require previous experience. You'll learn on the job how to interact with customers, troubleshoot issues, and provide excellent service.

Administrative Assistant: Many administrative or secretarial positions are open to those just starting. Your duties may include answering phones, scheduling, filing, data entry and supporting office operations.

Sales Associate/Retail Worker: Retail companies are often willing to hire people without experience for roles like cashier, sales floor associate, stocker, etc. These jobs provide lots of customer interaction.

Teacher's Aide/Assistant: Schools, daycares, and learning centers need paraprofessionals to support teachers in the classroom. No prior experience is necessary beyond a high school diploma.

Delivery Driver: Pizza chains, UPS, Instacart and other delivery companies need drivers to transport packages, food orders or other items. A clean driving record is generally the only major requirement.

Entry-Level Hospitality & Tourism: Hotels, restaurants, parks, and other hospitality providers have many basic operational jobs like a housekeeper, dishwashers, ride attendants, tour guides, etc. These allow you to start in the industry.

The key is being willing to apply for junior roles, learn on the go, provide great customer service, and work your way up the ladder. You can build a career even without direct experience with motivation and persistence. You can also ask for assistance from platforms like GradSiren that offer you entry level jobs. They allow you to find fresher jobs as per your interests and skills.

Conclusion

It is possible to find employment without experience. Put a focus on your education, practical experience, volunteering, internships, and relevant side businesses. Gain confidence and problem-solving skills during interviews.

Take a look at entry-level jobs in administration, retail, education, delivery, or hospitality. You can begin your job adventure and rise through the ranks if you are determined and open to learning. Remember that everyone starts off somewhere, and your potential can emerge with persistence.