#i really don't have the time to write that by myself...

[utter-queer-nightmare]

1. Currently it's The Key Is from the Alice By Heart soundtrack (highly recommend!)

2. It's not really a "go to", but my old reliable is Kitchen Nightmares, it's so cathartic!

3. Ooh, that's a tough one... Probably reading, just because writing takes so much more effort 😅

4. I think it's called mirth? The feeling that makes you laugh. A close second is proper elation, the kind that makes you cry

5. I wrap myself up in a duvet and listen to an audiobook while doing something mindless with my hands. Always with a snack and drink

6. I don't light candles a lot, I'm not allowed them in my student halls. But I love the way "vanilla cake" candles always manage to specifically smell like cake, and not just vanilla.

7. Probably my friend who lives in my building. I do make an attempt to be good company, but I feel like I change myself the least around her.

8. The fur from my childhood bear, and the soft stretchy cotton blend most children's dresses are made of

9. My grandma used to pick me up from school and she'd always leave a packet of biscuits on the seat for me. I'd put music on and eat them on the way home, about a 45 minute drive.

10. Last night, I was re-listening to an audiobook and realised I'd forgotten about an especially funny scene. It took me completely by surprise 🤣

11. My childhood bear. He's a Harrods Christmas bear with the year on the foot. I'm a December baby and he was a birth present, the first present I ever got.

12. Music or books. Audiobooks when I'm too keyed up to focus on reading, and angry songs if I need to let it out before I can calm down.

13. Bath! I live in a flat that only has a shower, but I love the feeling of being submerged in water.

14. Short term, my university's summer ball is this weekend! Long term, the Hadestown proshot is confirmed and might be coming soon!

15. Either Italian or pub food. A nice spicy pasta or a proper hearty pie.

16. I've got a new colour by number book coming in the post, and I'm kind of planning/writing a new story.

17. Unconventional and very telling, but I feel so well cared for when I'm in hospital. I know it's not quite love, but I always feel so safe and looked after when I'm in hospital. And I think that's all love is. Being made safe and looked after.

18. Maybe late 20s/early 30s? I should be on ADHD meds by then, and have finished uni. Lower stress and brain noise.

19. Nope, but I did write a little letter to myself on here that should turn up in a few years. I think that counts as both?

20. Walking along the seafront in my hometown, usually eating ice cream. Sometimes with my mother/grandmother/siblings, sometimes with my friend, sometimes alone. Sometimes day, sometimes night. Feeling the wind on my face and smelling salt.

21. Hot chocolate, but it needs to be proper hot chocolate with milk instead of water, and plenty of sugar/sweetener!

22. Alice. It's made up of various songs that reminds me of the story of Alice in Wonderland. There's obviously a lot of Alice By Heart on there!

23. I have actually! A friend of a friend gave me some after one of our theatre shows, and later that year my mum sent some for my birthday.

24. I have two, one from the theatre group and one from my flat. I think I'm closer to the one from my flat.

25. I used to think it was purple, but I think it's pink now!

26. Somewhere luxurious and relaxing in Italy, and I'd probably bring my baby sister, but only once she's old enough to live away from our mum full-time

27. I'm quite ambivalent towards gardening. I dislike mud and I'm not very able-bodied, so I don't really consider it. I have some potted roses that have lasted almost a year though!

28. Probably that I'm still alive to be honest, closely followed by the sheer amount of hobbies and responsibilities I manage to fit into my life.

29. I don't know. Sometimes I think I am, or at least sometimes I think I try to be. But I'm also quite selfish and lazy. But I don't think it matters if I think I'm kind. It matters if other people think I'm kind. And I hope they do.

30. Colourful. I have ADHD, so I have a lot of hobbies. I'm part of a theatre group and an aerial/circus group. I bake once a week, and colour/write/sing as often as possible.

I know this isn't how this works, but it feels nice to do the whole list at once like this ☺️

✨soft asks✨

What song makes you feel better?

What is your go to comfort show?

Reading or writing? Why?

Whats your favorite feeling?

How do you like to take care of yourself?

What’s your favorite candle scent?

Who do you feel most like yourself around?

Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you?

Best childhood moment?

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards)

Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it!

What calms you down?

Bath or shower to relax?

Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Comfort food?

What’s something you want to create soon?

How do you feel best loved?

What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at?

Have you ever written or received a love letter?

Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart.

Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa?

Name of your favorite playlist?

Have you ever received flowers?

Who is your bestfriend?

If your soul was a color, what would it be?

If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring?

Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something?

What are you proudest of?

Are you a kind person?

What do your hobbies look like?

[jesncin]

Cape Comics and the Unsung exploited creatives that make them

Here's something that happens a lot. A superman fan finds me through my supes fan comics, and so they look up the rest of my blog. They're surprised that I don't fanboy over Superman 24/7. That a lot of my biggest write ups about the character are critical of how he's written. They're also taken aback by how I don't like My Adventures with Superman, Absolute Superman, and that I'm not tripping over myself to praise James Gunn's upcoming Superman movie.

So they tough it out. They like my fan comics and just skim past the times I'm critical of the things I like. This is fine of course, no one has to engage with everything I make- no one's forcing you to do that. But sometimes it really gets to this fan how "wrong" I am for being critical of Superman. How dare you make such nice, hopeful, optimistic Superman fan comics and be critical of all the nice Superman media there is now! Across-the-social medias but especially on twitter, is where I get this kind of reader. I'm pigeonholed as "the fan artist with great art but bad takes." You might recall on here it's the "this blog is too smug and superior to be worth wading through to read the good comics." incident. They're far from the only one.

Something that's always struck me about this kind of fan is how uninterested they are in the artist behind the art. If you're so surprised at how you've never seen an Immigrant Superman take like mine, wouldn't you be curious about the thought process that made an interpretation like that possible? I've seen readers who like my clois comics that then go on to read posts like my "Failure of Asian Lois Lane" essay. These kind of readers then discover that my take on Lois exists because I'm unsatisfied with how most Asian!Loises are handled in canon. That my comics exist as critique to the canon material. There's a recognition that these fan comics are informed by my personal experiences. I love these kind of readers. They're the type who eat up the homework posts I put under my fan comics and seek out context. That's good intellectual curiosity to have.

But this other kind of fan -the ones who like my fan comics but hate the critical thought and personal experience that make those very comics possible- is culturally representative of how a lot of cape comic fans are. They don't engage with my comics as art, but as content of their favorite character. They see me post comics that present Superman positively and think it's hypocritical when I'm negative about the character. Just enjoy the content, ignore the artist. Ignore what they bring to the character. That's how this fan copes.

DC as a company loves fans like this. It's a type of brand loyalty corporations dream of. On bluseky, I briefly talked about how hard it is to make and find criticism of modern Superman stuff because he exists in a culture war that's quick to place any nuanced criticism of his bright optimistic new media as "bitter snyderbro talking points". And I'm met with multiple Superman white knights who take it so personally that I'm critical of a fictional character they like. They moralize their love for Supes. Disliking Superman isn't an opinion someone can just have, it has to be secretly reflective of how bad you are as a person. If I say "Superman's boring sometimes" I get people making a big show of unfollowing me. That's the kind of loyalty to intellectual property money can't buy.

When you value a fictional character more than the real human artists behind them, you become this kind of fan. Remember when that Harley Quinn fart comic was announced? A bunch of comic fans on twitter decided to write a letter to DC comics protesting the title, spammed it everywhere while others harassed the woman writing that comic. Regardless of how bad a comic is, a fictional victim is never going to be more important than the real person writing them. But when you're obsessed with the dignity of these characters over the wellbeing of the artists behind them, this is normal behavior.

Cape media is such a bleak industry for comic artists. A character you created can be making billions as a blockbuster in the box office while you're still crowd funding for health care. Your contributions to Batman could be completely lost to history, uncredited, if it weren't for your son and granddaughter campaigning for that recognition. You're eternally a freelancer with no stability, and many of your peers die young. And it's a thankless job. Because most of your "fans" have that geek consumerism-as-an-identity mindset where they value Superman more than what you as an artist brought to him. The corporation doesn't respect its artists, and neither do the fans. The fact that you can experience this even when you make fan art -even when you don't work for the company- is proof of how pervasive this kind of culture is.

Today's meta thoughts came about from the fan discussion surrounding Peter David's (creator of Miguel O'Hara/Spiderman 2099 among many accomplishments) passing. His family still needs help recovering from medical debt of his long-term care. My Superman rambles tend to do well, so if I can help share his family's fundraiser even a bit, I'd be happy. No creator with this heavy an impact on the media landscape should be struggling financially.

Similarly! Share and support the Hero Initiative! They do great work with financially supporting aging comic creatives who have very little safety net due to the exploitative nature of the comics industry.

Calling out the cape comics industry isn't "attacking" your fictional fave. If you feel defensive whenever conversations about how exploitative this industry is come about, that's brand loyalty talking. The interior lives of these creatives shape the characters you love. Don't let them be forgotten.

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #18 死

† procurement †

"Waking up in his bed should feel like victory, but all you can think about are those pill bottles on his nightstand."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9,5k

content: morning vulnerability and insomnia revelations, elevator sexual tension that goes nowhere, council meeting drama with heated arguments, mission prep with jessi's weapons expertise, undercover outfits that make jeon stare, AD's suspicious surveillance knowledge, and the calm before infiltrating mdf territory

☠ author's note ☠

As a European, I have absolutely no clue about guns so let's hope my research was decent and their weapons actually make sense ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) If any gun enthusiasts are reading this and I've somehow made a sniper rifle that shoots rainbows, just... pretend it's for the plot.

ANYWAY THE BIG DAY IS FINALLY HERE!!! Next chapter is THE MISSION and are we excited??? Because I AMMMMM!!! I've been building up to this for literal months and my chaotic little writer brain is VIBRATING with anticipation!

Jeon + motorbike = HOT AS HELL 🥵 Like sir, you're already dangerous enough, did you really need to add vehicular competence to your list of attractive qualities? RUDE.

Also Jessi is so mother mommy mama I love her! I mean, I say that about every single one of my characters, don't I? But what can I do—they're all so complex in my opinion! I have to really put myself in their position in every single scene and think genuinely about how they would react. Because one thing is how I WANT them to react, and another is how they would REALISTICALLY react, you know? Keeping those two aligned is harder than it looks, trust me!

Anyway ramble ramble ramble shut up Kiki we don't care—I KNOW BUT I'M THE AUTHOR so you're gonna read my rambling because I said so! I don't write 8k words per chapter to have my feelings dismissed! Y'all gonna put up with me whether you like it or not (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Thanks for reading as always, love y'all! Now buckle up because things are about to get SPICY!

⚔ socials ⚔

read on ao3

read on wattpad

tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎.

The obnoxious blaring of Jeon's alarm tears through the quiet morning.

It's 6 AM—that weird time when everything feels kind of hazy and unreal, like the world hasn't quite decided if it's night or day yet.

His phone keeps buzzing against the nightstand, screen lighting up like a strobe light.

You're barely awake, caught in that fuzzy space between sleep and consciousness. Jeon's sprawled half on top of you, which should probably be uncomfortable but... isn't. His arm's thrown over your waist in this weirdly soft way that doesn't match his usual don't-touch-me vibe. You can feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

For a second, you think about waking him up. But he looks so p̶e̶a̶c̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ different when he's sleeping—none of that cold, distant Chief of Tactical stuff.

Just a guy who really needs some rest.

"Jeon," you try anyway, voice coming out all scratchy from sleep. "Your alarm."

He makes this grunt that might be words but definitely isn't, face pressed against your skin. Instead of getting up, he actually pulls you closer, burying his face in the pillow like if he ignores the alarm hard enough, it'll give up and go away.

"Jeon, come on. Get it." You nudge him with your elbow because that fucking alarm is driving you insane. It just keeps going and going, like some kind of electronic torture device.

He lets out this long-suffering groan that perfectly captures the eternal struggle between wanting to sleep and having actual responsibilities.

His hand flops around looking for his phone, movements all clumsy in that way people only get when they're not really awake yet. When he finally finds it, he misses the screen completely on his first try.

"Fuck off," he mumbles—definitely talking to the phone, not you. The woodsy scent of his skin mixed with mint from his breath fills your lungs.

After what feels like forever (but is probably like, ten seconds), blessed silence falls over the room.

Jeon just tosses his phone somewhere (hopefully not off the bed) and immediately curls back around you like some kind of clingy octopus. His body's radiating heat like a furnace, and he's definitely not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

His aura wraps around you like summer rain, all soft and warm, making your head spin in the best way.

(You're starting to think maybe he's not a morning person.)

"Five more minutes," he mumbles, voice all rough and sleepy like some kid who doesn't want to go to school.

You can't help but smirk.

Who would've thought the terrifying Chief of Tactical was such a baby in the morning?

"Five more minutes, and you'll be the one explaining to the Council why you're late." You poke his side. "Good luck with that."

"What council?" He sounds like he's halfway to dreamland already.

"Council of 9, dumbass. You know, that super important reunion about tonight's mission?"

His only response is this little grunt before his breathing starts evening out again.

Oh no. Not happening.

You kick him under the sheets—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to be annoying. He flinches and makes this annoyed clicking sound with his tongue.

Finally, with this dramatic sigh that you can feel rumble through his chest, he gives in. His body peels away from yours like it's physically painful for him to move.

"Fine, fine," he grumbles, surrendering to reality.

When he sits up, cold air rushes in where his body heat used to be. You both kind of... linger there on the edge of his bed.

You watch him rub his face, trying to wake up properly. It's kind of fascinating, seeing him switch from s̶o̶f̶t̶ sleepy Jungkook back to Jeon, the cold and distant Chief of Tactical.

Another yawn catches you as you sit up, letting the sheets pool around your waist. You blink, trying to clear the sleep from your eyes, when something on Jeon's bedside table catches your attention.

Oh.

There's a whole fucking pharmacy there.

Your eyes scan over the labels—hypnotics, sedatives, tranquilizers, sleeping pills. The kind of cocktail someone needs when sleep doesn't come naturally anymore.

It hits different now, remembering all those times you've seen him in the cafeteria at ass o'clock in the morning. Always with that black coffee, those dark circles under his eyes that you thought were just part of his whole intimidating Chief of Tactical thing.

(Turns out even the great Jeon Jungkook has trouble sleeping.)

You can't help but wonder what keeps him up at night. What kind of memories play on repeat in his head when everything goes quiet.

Sure, being a gang leader comes with its own baggage—the violence, the paranoia, always having to watch your back.

But something tells you there's more to it. Things that left marks deeper than the little scar on his cheek. The kind of stuff that makes someone stock up on enough sedatives to knock out a horse.

Your eyes fix on this one bottle of hypnotics that's already half empty. Something in your chest tightens at the sight, but you quickly squash that feeling down.

The last thing Jeon needs is your p̶i̶t̶y̶ concern.

You know how this works. Show any weakness in Kkangpae, and you might as well paint a target on your back. The gang's full of sharks, always circling, always waiting for someone to bleed in the water.

So you bite back all the questions building up in your throat. Push down that weird urge to reach out, to try and make it better somehow.

Whatever demons Jeon's fighting, they're his to deal with.

You've got your own role to play here, and playing therapist isn't it. Some things just stay broken, and some nights just stay sleepless.

And some things are not yours to fix, even if some part of you wants to.

"You ready?" Jeon asks, already heading for the door without waiting to hear if you actually are.

You follow him out with a quiet sigh, but your mind's still stuck on all those pill bottles.

On what they might mean.

On all the nights he probably spends staring at his ceiling, fighting whatever demons keep him up.

The common areas in his wing of the Assassination Division are empty this early.

Your footsteps echo through the halls as you make your way to the elevator, where Jeon leans against the wall like he's got all day. He crosses his arms over his chest, getting lost in whatever thoughts are running through that complicated head of his.

When he doesn't move to actually do anything, you have to remind him that not everyone has his fancy Chief clearance level.

"You gonna scan your card or what?" You wave vaguely at the scanner. "You know mine won't work up here."

The corner of his mouth twitches up—just barely—like he's annoyed at himself for forgetting.

He pulls out his access card without a word and taps it against the scanner. The light blinks green, and the elevator starts moving.

While you're waiting, your brain decides to dig up this random memory from weeks ago.

That night Jeon showed up at your door out of nowhere, demanding his jacket back. You hadn't thought about it then, but now...

"Hey," you turn to look at him, "how did you get on my floor that night? To get your jacket back?" The question hits you out of nowhere. "Our cards don't work on each other's floors."

His eyes go wide for a split second—clearly not expecting that question. He just stares at you for a moment, lips parted like he's trying to figure out what to say. Then his gaze darts away and he rubs the back of his neck, which is basically a flashing neon sign that says busted.

(This should be interesting.)

"I, uh..." Jeon starts, looking at you then quickly away. He's actually struggling for words, which is new.

His fingers tap against his thigh in this nervous rhythm you've never seen before. Just when you think he's going to leave you hanging, he lets out this tiny sigh, shoulders dropping just a bit.

"I asked AD for temporary access."

Wait. What?

"And he... just gave it to you? Just like that?"

You narrow your eyes because something's not adding up here.

You've seen how these two interact—or don't interact, more like it. The way Jeon basically disappears whenever AD shows up, and how AD looks at him like he's personally offended his entire bloodline.

Sure, AD glares at everyone (especially J-Hope), but with Jeon? That's a whole different level of hate.

(Not that it's any of your business what's going on there.)

"Told him I needed my jacket back."

The elevator keeps moving down, and the silence between you gets kind of heavy. Something about how weirdly hesitant Jeon's being makes your curiosity spike. Part of you knows you should probably drop it, but...

"So, your card worked the whole night?" You try to sound casual about it, but there's definitely some skepticism bleeding through.

"Yeah." He finally meets your eyes again. "Clearance passes usually last for 24 hours."

You nod slowly, filing that information away.

"But didn't AD find it weird? The time stamp would show you came in at 3 AM and didn't leave until..." You trail off, remembering exactly why he stayed so long.

Jeon's eyes snap to yours, and something flashes across his face too quick to read before he looks away. The crease between his brows gets deeper as the silence stretches out.

"I don't think he actually checks the access logs that closely," he says finally. "At least he hasn't mentioned anything about the, uh, timeframe."

You think about that for a second. It seems weird that AD, of all people, wouldn't keep tabs on security access. But maybe Jeon's right—maybe AD doesn't actually monitor that stuff.

Then you remember something.

That day after the pool training, you saw AD in the elevator with Kazuha. He'd told you both to "be careful."

Was that his cryptic way of saying he knew exactly what went down that night?

The elevator dings, cutting through your thoughts.

Jeon pushes off the wall, giving you this little nod to go in first. You step inside, and the last thing you see is his back and this lazy wave goodbye before the doors slide shut.

Anyway, something tells you AD knows way more than he lets on.

You’d never been in The Council room until now.

And it’s… Well, it’s weird. Tense today.

Everyone's taking their usual spots around this stupidly long table, and RM's at the head of it like always, looking every bit the Supreme Commander he is.

"Thanks for coming, everyone." His voice carries that authority that makes even the most stubborn chiefs shut up and listen.

Well, almost everyone.

"I don't even see why I have to be here when you're all so set on leaving me out of it." V's practically radiating annoyance.

Moon gives him that patient look he reserves for when someone's being difficult. "This mission affects the entire gang. That's why we need the whole Council present."

"But I'm not even part of it." V throws his feet up on the table like the dramatic bitch he is, crossing his arms. "So why do I have to sit through all this bullshit?"

"You listen because shared knowledge makes us stronger." RM's eyes sweep around the table, meeting everyone's gaze—even yours. "Unity isn't just about standing together. It's about thinking as one."

V rolls his eyes so hard you're surprised they don't get stuck. "Yeah, yeah, I get the whole 'one gang' thing. But do I really need every fucking detail?"

"Details matter." Jeon's voice cuts through the tension. "MDF isn't some amateur operation. One tiny blind spot and we're fucked."

"It's a goddamn snake pit we're walking into." J-Hope waves his hands around like he's trying to grab invisible dangers out of the air. "We all need to know what kind of poison we might be dealing with."

JM leans forward, all serious despite his usually gentle demeanor. "That hideout's a maze. You two need more than just a way in—you need a solid plan to get the fuck out of there."

"Exactly." RM's sighs. "This intel could change everything. We do this right, we take out one of their major operations."

Flower, who's been watching everything with that calculating look of hers, finally speaks up. "And V, whether you like it or not, this meeting is what keeps your men at the docks from getting caught with their pants down while we're focused on this mission."

V scoffs, but you can see him actually considering her words.

Jessi stops lounging in her chair like this is some kind of casual meetup.

"Alright, cut the bullshit. What's the actual plan here, RM?" She leans forward, all business now. "And it better be good."

The room goes quiet—that heavy kind of quiet that makes your skin prickle.

RM stands up, and you can feel the weight of what's coming.

This isn't just another mission briefing. This is you and Jeon walking straight into MDF territory.

No pressure.

RM clears his throat, looking down at the stack of papers in front of him.

"Here's how it's going to work," he starts, voice authoritative. "Jeon and Y/N are going undercover. We've got IDs that'll get them through MDF's front door."

The word 'undercover' makes your stomach do this weird flip thing. Jeon shifts slightly beside you, his presence weirdly reassuring for someone who's usually about as comforting as a loaded gun.

"They'll play it as traders," RM continues, spreading out this map that looks like someone went crazy with a red marker. "Fresh faces trying to make it big enough to catch MDF's attention."

Jeon nods, watching AD's finger trace some path on the map. "What about their security? Cameras?"

"System loops every three hours," AD says, sounding bored but you know that's just his thing. "We're setting up a distraction. At 23:00, when the loop starts, they'll get a power surge. Six minutes of blind spots."

"Six minutes?" Jessi raises an eyebrow. "That's cutting it real fucking close."

"We can handle it." Jeon sounds so sure it actually makes you believe him. "Had worse timeframes before."

"That's your window to find the server room and plant the bug." RM points to some spot deep in what looks like a maze. "AD will be in your ear the whole time."

"And when shit inevitably goes sideways?" V asks, and despite how pissy he's been about being left out, you can hear actual braincells there.

"You'll be armed," RM says simply. "But this is about getting in and out quiet. No firefights."

"Right, because stealth missions should totally go to Mr. Shoot-Everything-From-A-Mile-Away instead of, oh, I don't know, the actual Chief of Stealth?" V's voice drips sarcasm.

"V." JM's cuts in. "Enough."

V grunts but actually shuts up, which is kind of impressive. You've never seen anyone else get him to back down that easily.

Flower leans forward, and the room suddenly feels a bit colder. The map spread out on the table looks like some kind of twisted treasure map, except instead of X marking the spot, there's about fifty different ways this whole thing could go wrong.

"Alright, here's the deal," she says, getting straight to the point like always. "You need to be interesting enough to catch their attention, but not so interesting they get suspicious. Think you can handle that?"

She looks right at you, and you can feel the weight of what she's asking.

"Y/N, you're our front person here. While everyone's busy watching you sweet-talk them about money and deals, Jeon's gonna be doing the actual work." Her lips curve into this knowing smile. "Keep them focused on the profit. Rich assholes love talking about money."

Great. No pressure or anything. Just gotta be charming enough to distract an entire criminal organization while your... whatever Jeon is sneaks around their base. Easy peasy.

Flower turns to Jeon next, and her expression goes all business.

"You're playing backup dancer on this one. Stay in the background, watch everything, and when AD hits them with that power surge? That's your window. Get the bug planted without anyone noticing."

The room goes quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Everyone's thinking the same thing—one tiny mistake and this whole plan goes up in smoke.

"Remember," Flower says, voice serious, "this isn't about showing off. It's about getting in, getting it done, and getting out without anyone realizing what happened."

"And more importantly," RM cuts in, giving you and Jeon a look, "don't fucking die. The intel's not worth either of you."

"What about communication?" you ask, because there's one pretty big hole in this plan. "We can't exactly text each other in there."

"Subvocals," AD doesn't look up from his laptop, but his voice carries that bored confidence that means he knows exactly what he's talking about. "Basically fancy mics that pick up whispers. We'll hear everything, but you two can talk without anyone else noticing. Plus, we'll feed you intel as we get it. Just keep it quiet and you'll be fine."

V lets out this little laugh, eyes twinkling like he knows something no one else does. "Sure putting a lot of faith in luck here, aren't we?"

"Luck's got nothing to do with it." RM's interjects. "This is about being prepared, being skilled, and getting shit done. Don't forget who we are. What Kkangpae stands for."

The room goes quiet again. Then, he continues speaking:

"Once you get that bug planted and grab whatever intel you can, you get out. We're not starting a war. Not yet."

Then Jeon turns to look at you, all Chief-of-Tactical mode.

Stormy.

"We split up as soon as we're inside," he says, voice gone all hard and professional. "Cover more ground, draw less attention."

"Yeah, no." You don't even hesitate to shut that down. The plan's crystal clear in your head. "We stick together, follow the script. Only split when the power goes out. That's the signal."

He scoffs—actually scoffs—and crosses his arms. "You really think playing follow-the-leader's gonna work that long? We're wasting time the second we walk in. Better to improvise early."

"We're not there to improvise," you snap back, getting annoyed now. The air's starting to feel like a brewing thunderstorm. "We have a plan for a fucking reason, Jeon. The power surge is our cover. Until then, you're stuck with me."

His jaw does that tightening thing it does when someone challenges him.

Chief or not, you're not backing down on this.

"A package deal that screams 'we're obviously here to fuck shit up'." He's practically radiating frustration. "Splitting up makes more sense. It's tactical."

"It's reckless," you cut in, meeting his intensity head-on. "Since when do we pick 'making sense' over actually being smart about this? We split up before the power cut, and we're basically painting targets on our backs."

You can feel everyone in the room watching this verbal sparring match in slight disbelief.

"You're not fucking listening—" Jeon leans into your space.

"Because what you're saying is bullshit," you snap back, refusing to be intimidated even though he's practically looming over you. "We go in toge—"

"Too risky. We split up, maximize our—"

"—chances of getting our asses caught!" You talk right over him, blood rushing hot in your veins. "We stick to the fucking pla—"

"Which is basically asking to get pinched if we're joined at the hip," he fires back, and god, his voice shouldn't sound that hot when he's being this infuriating.

"Oh, and you think going rogue is the ans—"

"It's called thinking on your feet, sunshine. Maybe try it some—"

"Save the condescending shit," you cut in, sharp enough to draw blood. "We're not there to show—"

"—that we're fucking amateurs!" He's almost growling now, and the sound does things to you that you really don't want to examine.

Your voices keep rising, cutting each other off in this heated back-and-forth that's starting to feel less like an argument and more like foreplay.

"Enough." RM's voice drops like a bucket of cold water.

You and Jeon both shut up instantly, turning to face him like scolded kids.

The whole room goes dead quiet, everyone waiting to see how the Supreme Commander's going to handle this.

"Y/N's right," RM cuts in, voice carrying that don't-fuck-with-me tone whilst his eyes bounce between you and Jeon as he speaks. "We made this plan accounting for every possible fuck-up. You go in together, no improvising. The power surge is your cue. Until then, you're just a couple of traders looking to make a deal. We can't afford any slip-ups."

The way he says it leaves no room for argument. You can see Jeon's shoulders drop just a tiny bit, like he's accepting defeat but doesn't want to show it.

"Got it," you nod, trying to look all professional and shit.

Like you didn't just get into a verbal sparring match with your Chief in front of the whole Council.

Jeon takes a second, then gives this little nod that looks like it physically pains him.

"Understood," he echoes, finally looking at you.

And so there’s this weird moment where you're both just... staring at each other; as if calling a truce without actually saying anything.

As RM dismisses everyone, you feel that rush of adrenaline from arguing start to fade. Your shoulders relax, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Right. This whole mission is riding on you and Jeon not fucking it up by going off-script.

You can feel Jeon next to you, his whole vibe changing. He's still got that unreadable expression, but he doesn't look ready to fight anymore.

Before you can make your grand exit, Jessi's voice cuts through the room, making both of you plant your feet on the ground.

"Don't worry, you two. All that sexual tension will make for some hot angry fucking after the mission." She winks at you both like she just said something clever instead of mortifying.

"That's not—we're not—" You start sputtering like an idiot, feeling your face go red.

"Ridiculous," Jeon snaps at the same time, scowling like Jessi just insulted his sniper skills or something.

Jessi just smirks, looking way too pleased with herself. "Whatever you say, lovebirds. Just come by my division after lunch. Gotta get you kitted out for this little adventure."

You open your mouth to tell her exactly where she can shove her assumptions, but she keeps talking.

"AD's gonna set up your access, so don't be late!" And with that, she struts out of the room like she owns the place.

You take a deep breath, trying to get your shit together.

Without a word, you and Jeon turn to leave.

There's still a ton of prep to do for this mission, and you'd rather face MDF unarmed than spend another second in this room with everyone's eyes on you.

The elevator feels way too empty when it’s only you and Jeon in it.

Trapped in a metal box after whatever that disaster of a Council meeting was.

The silence feels heavy, like all that heated arguing is still buzzing in the air.

You stand there trying to look casual, watching the floor numbers tick down like they're the most interesting thing you've ever seen.

But you can't help noticing how Jeon's jaw is doing that clenching thing again, his lips pressed together so tight they're practically disappearing. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and his whole body's radiating tension like a coiled spring.

The silence is driving you insane.

So of course, before your brain can stop your mouth, you blurt out: "Just so we're clear, we are not having hot angry sex after this mission."

Great going girl. 10/10.

Jeon's head snaps toward you so fast you're worried he might get whiplash. One eyebrow shoots up in surprise, but then—oh—his expression shifts into that infuriating smirk.

"Aw, you sound disappointed," he says, voice dropping into that low, teasing register that definitely doesn't make your stomach flip.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as dramatically as possible. "Yeah, like I was last night."

"Excuse me?" The look of pure indignation on his face is actually priceless. "Pretty sure I had you begging."

"Begging?" You let out a laugh. "More like pointing out how fucking slow you were being."

You're going for casual disinterest, but the memories from last night keep trying to make your face heat up.

He actually laughs at that—this sharp, sudden sound that bounces off the elevator walls.

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now? Because I remember it more like... payback. For all that teasing." His eyes drop to your ass for a second. "Bending over until I couldn't take it anymore..."

You cross your arms, leaning back against the wall like this conversation isn't affecting you at all.

"That wasn't teasing. That was strategic mission preparation." You can't help the sly smile that creeps onto your face. "Besides, you're the one who changed the sleeping arrangement to fucking."

"A strategic move, huh?" His mouth does that little twitch that means he's trying not to smile. "Well, it fucking worked."

"Yeah, you broke so easily." You roll your eyes, but you can feel yourself starting to smile too. "Just for sex"

"Pretty damn good sex, if I might add." He says it like he's stating the weather, but that smirk is getting bigger.

Before you can even process what's happening, his hand shoots out to the elevator panel. The emergency stop button makes this loud clicking sound, and the whole thing jerks to a halt with this deep rumble that you feel in your bones.

Suddenly the space feels way too small, and all you can hear is your own breathing getting heavier.

Yeah. Yeah, he’s stopped the fucking elevator.

"What the actual fuck, Jeon?" You try to sound annoyed, but the words get stuck in your throat because he's moving into your space like he owns it, like he has every right to be this close.

Then you're trapped between his arms and the cold elevator wall, and fuck—the way he's looking at you makes you feel naked already.

Your heart's going crazy in your chest, completely betraying how irritated you're pretending to be. Heat starts pooling between your legs, and it's honestly embarrassing how quickly your body responds to him.

"We can't—" Your voice comes out all breathy and pathetic. "We can't do this here."

The smile he gives you is pure sin as he leans in closer, close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, static wrapping around you, making it hard to think straight.

"Why not?"

"Because we're in a fucking elevator—"

"No cameras." He cuts you off like he's been waiting for this excuse.

You try to swallow but your throat's gone dry. Your sling feels itchy against your skin, probably because your whole body's remembering what happened last night.

"People are gonna notice if the elevator's stuck—"

"Maintenance issue." He says it so fast you know he's thought about this before.

"Jeon—" You start to argue, but then his eyes drop to your mouth and your brain just... stops working.

You know you should push him away. That's what any sane person would do. But there's something about Jeon that makes your brain stop working right—like a magnet pulling you in no matter how hard you try to resist. Every cell in your body is screaming at you to just grab him and kiss him already.

Right when you're about to say fuck it and give in, he pulls back.

And the look in his eyes? Pure evil, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Sunshine," he practically purrs, voice gone all low and rough in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach, "you're too eager."

The elevator dings, saving you from doing something stupid.

He steps out onto his floor without another word, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face like he just won something.

You slump against the wall the second the doors close, letting out this huge breath you didn't even realize you were holding

As the elevator keeps moving, the whole thing feels kind of surreal—like maybe you imagined him pressing you up against the wall and looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

But the way your skin's still tingling tells you it definitely happened.

When the doors open on your floor, it's like stepping back into the real world.

One where you need to figure out what the hell to tell Yunjin about where you've been all night. She's way too perceptive for her own good, and she definitely noticed you didn't come to your room to sleep.

You walk to your room trying to come up with something believable.

Maybe you were up all night studying mission plans? Or got restless and went wandering around the common areas?

Your brain's still kind of fuzzy from having Jeon all up in your space, which isn't helping with the whole creative lying thing.

But when you push open your door, Yunjin spins around like she's been caught doing something wrong. Her eyes are all wide and guilty, and before you can even open your mouth to make up some excuse about where you've been, she starts talking.

"Okay, before you give me shit for not sleeping here last night—" The words come tumbling out of her like she can't get them out fast enough. "You won't believe what happened. I was just gonna have a few drinks with V, you know, just to chill..."

Well. You surely didn't expect that.

You stand there trying to process the flood of information Yunjin's dumping on you. She's so caught up in her story she doesn't even notice your brain short-circuiting.

"And I know we said to stay away from V's whole... thing, but fuck—" She's practically vibrating with excitement. "We've been dancing around each other for weeks, and last night was just—"

"Yunjin, hold up." You raise a hand to stop her word-vomit. "Are you telling me you spent the night with V? Like, you and V actually—"

You don't finish the sentence because honestly, you don't need to. The implication is heavy enough to sink a ship.

She bites her lip and nods, looking somewhere between guilty and smug.

"Yeah, we fucked..." Her voice trails off before picking right back up. "And let me tell you, it was good. Like, he's not even into all that scary shit everyone thinks he is? But his chaotic energy definitely carries over to bed, god, if you only knew—"

You can't help the snort spreading across your face.

Here you were worrying about how to explain your own night away, and Yunjin's gone and done the exact same thing.

There's something kind of poetic about both of you getting tangled up with people you definitely shouldn't be touching.

A laugh bubbles up in your throat. "Okay, spare me the details. But I'm glad you had fun with your psychopath."

"It was actually really nice?" She's got this dreamy look that would be cute if she wasn't talking about the gang's resident knife enthusiast. "I know we said getting involved with him was a bad idea, but..."

She shrugs, looking almost shy.

"Sometimes you can't help who you want to climb like a tree."

You nod because fuck—isn't that the truth? Your body's still kind of sore from climbing your own dangerous tree last night.

Quick thinking has you saying, "I had an early Council meeting about the mission."

It's not exactly a lie. You did have a meeting. The fact that you came straight from Jeon's bed to it is just... details.

Yunjin seems to buy it, but then her eyes narrow and this little smirk appears on her face.

"Speaking of details... that shirt looks a bit big on you." She eyes the obviously oversized fabric. "Almost like it belongs to someone else. Someone tall, maybe? Tattooed?"

Heat creeps up your neck as you tug at the shirt that definitely belongs to Jeon.

"It's just comfortable," you mutter, but even you don't believe that weak excuse.

"Sure it is." Yunjin's laugh is rather a sneer. "Tell Jeon I said hi."

She throws you a wink and you roll your eyes, but you can't quite fight the smile tugging at your lips.

At least you're not the only one fucking a chief.

The scanner actually flashes green when you swipe your card, which is weird.

Usually you only get access to the Seduction floor and common areas, but apparently Jessi wasn't kidding about AD setting up clearance to her realm for you.

You hit the button for the 9th floor and watch the numbers tick up.

The doors slide open to a completely different vibe from what you're used to.

Gone is all that minimalist tech stuff from AD's floor or the sterile efficiency of Assassination.

The Weapons Division looks exactly like what it is—a place that deals in death. The lights are dim, pipes running everywhere like exposed veins, and the floor's just straight-up concrete. No fancy finishes here.

You've maybe been here like, three times? And every visit feels like stepping into some alternate universe inside Kkangpae's castle. The contrast between this and your division's sleek aesthetic is wild.

"Well, well, look who we have here!"

The voice booms through the hallway, making you jump.

You turn to find this huge guy with a green mullet heading your way, covered in neck tattoos that probably tell some interesting stories. You're pretty sure his name is Jae? He's Jessi's second-in-command, but you've barely exchanged two words with him before.

Not that you'd know it from how he grins at you like you're old friends.

"Jessi's waiting on you," he says, slapping your back hard enough to make you stumble forward. (What is it with these Weapons Division people and casual violence?) "Come on, can't keep the boss lady hanging."

You follow Mullet Man through these massive double doors and holy shit—the weapons depot is huge. The ceiling's so high it's got actual walkways crisscrossing it, leading to what looks like storage units. Every table is packed with enough firepower to start a small war: rifles, handguns, knives, stuff you don't even have names for.

Jessi's off to one side, checking out this fancy-looking automatic rifle like she's shopping for groceries. Her fiery aura fills the space with heating energy.

When she spots you, those red lips curl into this knowing smirk that makes you kind of nervous.

"Right on time," she says, putting down the gun like it's no big deal. "Now we just gotta wait for lover boy to complete the set."

Jae throws up this exaggerated salute and swaggers off, leaving you perched on a nearby stool while Jessi's aura dances around like actual flames.

Jessi leans back against one of the weapon-covered tables, arms crossed and this knowing look in her eyes that makes you kind of nervous.

"That was quite the show this morning. Never seen Jeon actually engage like that before."

"What do you mean?" You frown, thinking about how often Jeon and V are at each other's throats. "He fights with V all the time."

"Nah, that's different." She shakes her head, red hair swaying. "When he fights with V, it's all explosions and death threats. Pure chaos."

Her hands make this exaggerated boom motion.

"But this morning? That was like... verbal foreplay. He was actually in there with you, giving as good as he got."

You think about that for a second.

Now that she mentions it, Jeon does usually just... shut down when other people try to argue with him. Goes all cold and distant, like he can't be bothered to even engage.

But this morning he was right there with you, matching your energy blow for blow.

"Huh." The realization hits you harder than it probably should. "He's not usually much for back-and-forth, is he?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Jessi looks way too pleased with herself. "That emotionally constipated asshole usually keeps everyone at a distance. But you?" She wiggles her eyebrows in this ridiculous way. "Something's different..."

Your face heats up because fuck—she's not wrong. But you are absolutely not having this conversation right now.

"So anyway," you say quickly, probably not as smooth as you think, "what kind of gear are we talking about here?"

Jessi's smirk says she knows exactly what you're doing, but she lets it slide.

Instead, she turns to this impressive spread of weapons and gadgets laid out on the table. Some of them look deadly enough to make you nervous just looking at them.

"Only the best for our star infiltration team," she says, sounding like a proud mom showing off her kid's artwork. "Let's talk comm units first..."

Then, you catch it.

That woodsy, pine scent that clings to him like his leather jacket.

You don’t even need to turn around to know it’s him.

Jeon appears in the doorway looking unfairly good in his all-black everything, like some kind of high-fashion assassin.

When his eyes find you and Jessi, one eyebrow goes up.

"Starting without me?" His voice is dry as desert.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Jessi's teasing, but then her expression turns into something more devious. "I was just telling your partner here how I've never seen you get so fired up before. Something about her really pushes your buttons, huh?"

You kind of want to melt into the concrete floor. Leave it to Jessi to stir shit up just because she can.

But Jeon just shrugs, cool as ever.

"Just discussing strategy." His voice gives absolutely nothing away, which is honestly impressive considering how heated he got earlier.

Jessi looks kind of disappointed that she couldn't get a reaction out of him. Classic Jeon, refusing to take the bait. She lets out this dramatic sigh and turns back to all the gear spread out on the table.

"Well, now that his highness has graced us with his presence," she says, standing up with that natural grace she has, "let's get you both looking the part. Can't have you walking into MDF territory looking like gang members, can we?"

You follow her through the rows of weapons and equipment. It's kind of amazing how she knows exactly where everything is in this massive space. Her energy is contagious—she's clearly in her element here, surrounded by all these tools of destruction.

The weapons depot starts feeling less like an armory and more like some underground fashion studio as you walk deeper in.

Because of course, procurement doesn’t only mean weapons and human resource.

Apparently, it also means Jessi has a pass to turn a room full of deadly weapons into her personal styling space.

There's this sectioned-off area that looks like a makeshift dressing room, complete with different fabrics hanging everywhere.

"Over here, Jeon." Jessi's voice has that tone that means she's already planning something. She looks him up and down like she's mentally redesigning his whole outfit.

Jeon follows her, trying to look like he's not into it, but you can see the interest in his eyes. You hang back a bit, kind of enjoying watching him get the Jessi treatment.

Jessi starts pulling stuff from these racks that look like someone couldn't decide if they were making tactical gear or runway fashion. Every piece somehow manages to be both bulletproof and stupidly stylish.

First up for Jeon: this black suit that catches the light in a way that's definitely not standard issue.

"Put this on," she tells him, shoving the suit in his hands. "It's reinforced—won't stop a bullet, but a knife won't get through."

He disappears behind this makeshift changing screen, and you're definitely not counting the seconds until he comes back out.

When he does, though... fuck.

The suit fits him like it was painted on, showing off all those muscles you're way too familiar with now. The jacket makes his shoulders look even broader, and the pants are doing criminal things to his legs. He looks like he walked straight out of some high-end assassin movie.

"You could probably kill someone just by walking into a room looking like that," you say before you can stop yourself. Your voice definitely doesn't sound as casual as you meant it to.

The smug bastard actually smirks at that. "Wouldn't be the first time."

But Jessi's not having it. She shakes her head, looking at him like an artist who's not quite happy with their work.

"Too polished. We need dangerous, not James Bond. Try this instead."

She pulls out this whole new look: leather jacket that probably costs more than anything you own (which is not much), deep maroon shirt that's somehow both simple and expensive-looking, and black jeans that you just know are going to be trouble.

When he steps out this time, his whole aura shifts.

The leather sits on his shoulders like it belongs there, and that hint of maroon under all the black just... works.

He looks like someone who could sweet-talk his way into a deal and then burn the whole place down if it goes wrong.

"Now that's more like it," Jessi says, looking satisfied. "Says 'I do business, but I also do crime' in all the right ways."

You find yourself nodding along because damn.

He looks exactly like what a high-level arms dealer should look—dangerous enough to take seriously, stylish enough to have clearly made money doing it.

Jeon catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, like he's asking what you think. You give him a small nod because what else can you do? He looks f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ good.

Really good.

Jessi rummages through another rack and pulls out this long-sleeved black shirt.

"Here, put this under the jacket. The fabric's breathable but bulletproof-adjacent. Won't stop a direct hit, but it'll give you a fighting chance."

Jeon shrugs off the leather jacket and slips the shirt on. It's thin but looks sturdy—perfect for someone who might need to move fast or fight their way out of trouble.

Jessi finally steps back, eyeing him like she's inspecting a weapon.

"Not bad. Looks casual enough that no one'll think twice, but you can actually move in it." She hands him back the leather jacket. "Try it all together."

You try to look professional while he puts the jacket back on over the maroon shirt and black base layer, but fuck—the whole ensemble is perfect.

The layers somehow make him look even more dangerous, like he could either charm you or kill you and you wouldn't know which until it was too late.

While Jeon and Jessi get into some deep discussion about fabric weights and mobility ranges, you're kind of amazed at how much thought goes into this.

It's not just picking out nice clothes—every piece has to tell the right story without saying a word.

One wrong detail and the whole cover's blown.

The attention to detail is actually impressive. Jessi knows exactly how to make someone look dangerous but approachable, wealthy but not flashy.

In this world, the wrong outfit can get you killed as quick as the wrong word.

You watch them fine-tune every detail, fascinated by how each adjustment shapes the character Jeon's going to play. And then… The final touch.This plain black watch that probably has fifteen different ways to kill someone. Jeon checks it over with that focused look he gets when he's handling weapons.

"Nice," is all he says, strapping it on.

Standing there in his perfectly crafted outfit, Jeon looks like he was born to play this role. Then Jessi turns to you with this wicked gleam in her eyes that makes your stomach drop.

"Your turn, beautiful," she says, gesturing at another rack of clothes. "Let's make you look expensive but deadly."

Something tells you this is going to be way more complicated than just picking out a nice dress.

You step forward to check out what Jessi's picked out, and damn—she really knows what she's doing. Every piece looks like it was chosen to tell a specific story about who you're supposed to be for this mission.

First up is this skin-tight dress that practically screams ‘honey trap.’ Jessi takes one look and tosses it aside with a muttered "too fucking obvious."

Then there's this whole secretary fantasy thing with a high-necked blouse and pencil skirt, but that gets vetoed too. ("Can't fight for shit in that.")

Then she hands you this black button-up that feels expensive as hell, paired with these tailored pants that feel way too nice to the touch. The fabric's got that perfect balance—soft enough to feel good but sturdy enough to take a beating if things go south.

When you slip into it, something shifts. The shirt fits in all the right places, making you feel d̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶o̶u̶s̶ powerful. And the pants? They let you move like you might need to throw down at any second, which, considering it's MDF territory you're heading into, isn't exactly unlikely.

You step out to get Jessi's opinion.

And catch Jeon straight-up staring at your ass.

You’re not surprised.

When you meet his eyes, he looks away so fast it's actually kind of funny, pressing his lips together like he's trying not to smile. He looks like a kid who just got caught stealing cookies, and something about that expression makes you bite back a smile of your own.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jessi says, looking you over with that critical eye of hers. "You look like someone who could either make a deal or break some kneecaps. Perfect."

The outfit's actually making you feel kind of invincible. (The fact that it got Mr. Perfect Sniper all flustered doesn't hurt either.) You do a little turn, testing how it moves. Everything feels right—professional enough to be taken seriously, but with enough edge to remind people you're not someone to fuck with.

"Hold up," Jessi says suddenly, her eyes getting that dangerous glint that usually means trouble. "Got one more thing. Don't move."

She strides off into her weapons paradise, leaving you standing there wondering what else she could possibly have planned.

You definitely don't check if Jeon's still watching.

(Okay, that's a lie. You totally do.)

The button-up fits you like it was made for you—professional enough to command respect but with just enough something to make heads turn. You're fiddling with the collar when you notice it's buttoned kind of low. Like, maybe too low for a serious arms deal. But before you can decide whether to fix it, Jeon's suddenly right there in your space.

"Let me," he says, voice gone all low and rough (molten lava in your stomach)

His fingers brush against your skin as he does up that one button over your chest, and fuck—that tiny touch has your brain stuttering a bit.

Probably because your body remembers what those fingers can do.

When you look up at him (because of course he's using his height to loom over you like the smug bastard he is), his eyes are dark enough to drown in.

The little gleam swimming in them tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" you say, trying to sound annoyed even though you can feel yourself starting to smile.

"Immensely." He says; and his voice is pure sin wrapped in amusement.

He just keeps staring at you with this intensity that makes it hard to breathe, like he's thinking about all the ways he could mess up your perfectly put-together outfit.

Then Jessi bursts back in, completely ruining the moment.

"Found it!" She's waving around this black blazer like she just discovered buried treasure.

Jeon steps back, but not before giving you one last look that promises later. That little smirk is still playing on his lips as Jessi throws the blazer over your shoulders like she's putting the final touch on a masterpiece.

While Jessi goes over the tech specs of your gear, you sneak another look at Jeon. That heated playfulness from earlier is gone, replaced by that laser-focused look he gets when he's in Chief mode.

But there's still this... tension hanging in the air between you, like neither of you has quite forgotten what almost happened in that elevator.

Jessi then looks you both up and down with this satisfied smirk, like an artist admiring her masterpiece.

You have to admit, she knows what she's doing—the outfits are perfect for your cover, walking that line between dangerous and professional.

"Now for the fun part," she says, suddenly all business. "Let's get you two properly armed."

She leads you deeper into her weapons paradise, stopping at what looks like a plain wall. But when she presses her hand against this hidden scanner, the whole thing comes alive with soft beeps and whirs. A keypad appears, and Jessi punches in some code faster than you can follow.

The wall basically transforms, splitting open to reveal these massive hidden cabinets that look straight out of a spy movie.

Inside is enough firepower to start (or end) a small war, all arranged with the kind of precision that would make Jeon proud.

You've seen weapons before—kind of comes with the whole gang thing—but this is different.

Every gun, knife, and thing-you-don't-even-have-a-name-for gleams under the lights like they're on display in some very deadly museum.

"For when things get up close and personal," Jessi says, picking up this compact black handgun, "you'll want this beauty."

She hands you a Glock 26, and fuck—it's heavier than it looks.

"Small enough to hide, big enough to make someone regret their life choices."

Then she turns to Jeon with a different gun. "You get the Sig P226. More range, more punch. You can hang back and give her cover while she works her magic up close."

Jeon takes the gun and with a flick of his wrist, he expertly checks the chamber and magazine. You can't understand why your brain thinks that's hot, but the little nod he gives tells you Jessi picked right.

She keeps pulling out more gear—silencers that look way too professional, extra magazines, these holsters that probably cost more than your monthly pay. Then come the knives, small enough to hide pretty much anywhere but sharp enough to make you nervous just looking at them.

Jessi's whole vibe changes as she finishes arming you up. "These aren't just fancy accessories. Every time you pull one of these, you're making a choice that could end someone—maybe even yourself."

The weight of what she's saying hits different when you're actually holding deadly weapons. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you can tell she's trusting you not to fuck this up.

"One more thing," she says, pulling this fancy-looking gadget from a drawer. "Multi-tool kit. Has everything from basic lock picks to a mini torch. Trust me, you'll want options when shit hits the fan."

She hands it to Jeon, who clips it to his belt with practiced ease. (Of course he knows exactly what to do with it—guy probably has a whole collection of spy gear at home.)

Jessi takes a step back, giving you both this final once-over that feels kind of like a proud mom sending her kids off to prom.

(If prom involved infiltrating a rival gang's hideout.)

"You're good to go. Just remember—get in, do the job, get out. Don't try to be heroes."

Her words stick with you as you follow her out of the weapons room.

You walk through another set of doors to find a…

Holy shit. The garage is massive.

It's like walking into some billionaire's private car collection, except every vehicle probably has hidden gun compartments or something.

So Jessi's definitely got a thing for cars. There's everything from flashy Lamborghinis to those huge Bentleys that scream ‘I’m rich and probably dangerous.’ Motorcycles, sports cars, even some vehicles that look straight-up bulletproof—all lined up like some very deadly candy shop.

You're starting to think maybe the weapons aren't even Jessi's favorite toys.

Jessi leads you through her collection of cars like a proud mom showing off her kids' trophies. She stops at this black Lamborghini that looks expensive enough to make your eyes water. The lights bounce off its surface like it's made of pure money.

"This baby right here?" She runs her hand over the hood like she's petting a cat. "Zero to sixty in 2.8 seconds. Makes people's heads turn so fast they get whiplash."

Then she drags you over to this Bentley that screams old money.

"And this beauty? When you need people to think you've got more dollars than sense." The inside looks like someone skinned a whole herd of very expensive cows and covered it in fancy wood.

"We're taking my bike."

Jeon's voice cuts through Jessi's car tour sharply.

He says it like it's already decided, which—knowing him—it probably is.

Jessi whips around to look at him, and fuck—her fiery aura actually flares up like she's about to burst into flames.

"Are you kidding me? Look at these beauties!" She waves at her collection. "They're begging for some action!"

But Jeon just shakes his head. "Bike's more maneuverable. Better control. Makes more sense for what we need."

"Ugh, fine." Jessi throws one last longing look at the Lamborghini like she's saying goodbye to a child. "But I swear to god, one of these days I'm getting your ass in one of these cars."

The little smirk Jeon gives her actually looks kind of fond. "Keep dreaming."

So you follow him to another part of the garage where his bike's parked.

It's this sleek, black monster of a machine that somehow manages to look both subtle and dangerous—kind of like its owner. The thing practically radiates power, but in that quiet way that says it doesn't need to show off.

Jessi watches Jeon check over the bike with this resigned look.

He runs his hands over the handlebars, checking everything with the kind of attention to detail you'd expect from someone who regularly makes impossible shots from a mile away.

"At least you take care of my presents," she mutters, but there's no real heat in it.

Jeon just nods, swinging his leg over the bike like he was born to ride it. When he turns to look at you, his face has gone all serious again.

"You good?"

You nod, feeling your heart start picking up speed.

This is really happening.

Jessi steps back, smiles, and then just waves you two off, not before adding something else.

"Watch your asses out there. And remember—you need backup, we're just a call away."

goal: 490 notes !!

if you’ve enjoyed this chapter please consider buying me a coffee!! ☕️ ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

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© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[nicolesainz]

It's ok, I'm ok! (LN4)

Lando Norris x f!reader

Author's note: Tate McRae slowed versions of her songs are perfect for fanfic writing!

Summary: Sky Sports has hired a new and upcoming reporter, filling in for races that the big names will be absent. You seem to get the best out of the drivers, especially Lando Norris who has the most crooked PR image lately. Even if he behaves in front of the camera, it doesn't mean the cracks won't stop growing.

Warning: 18+, minors dni! smut, explicit content!

"TV pen, who is on the list this time?" I ask Natalie while I am trying to set up the microphone and my headset.

"Uh, Lance, uh, George and oh, Mr. Loverboy Norris." she playfully nudges me while reading out the names.

"Lando? Again? I have had to interview him for the past 4 races."

"You are the only one who can get full sentences out of him. He started off the season with 3-4 words per answer but now, things have improved."

"Please Natalie, tell him to maybe be a more decent. He keeps eyeing me up and down and I can barely make out the words I have written in my cards."

Lando is very charming, sweet and a bit annoying. Whenever we cut the cameras and there aren't many people around, he always tries to flirt with me. Compliments my looks, my manners and how I constantly blush whenever he shows up at the panel.

"Oh come on, that's the way he has always been since he started. He seems to be very fond of you, in comparison to the rest of us. Play along with his tricks."

It is true, Lando has had the playboy persona following him for quite some time and he truly is owning up to it without a care in the world. A playboy in the sense of being charismatic and innocently hitting on others, not the whole 'being with a different girl every race week'.

"Why hello beautiful ladies! Long time no see." His voice sends chills down my spine as it echoes in my ears sweetly. Both Natalie and I turn to face him with two huge grins formed on.

"You two look suspicious. What have you done? Are you not happy to see me, y/n?" Lando frowns the moment he ends his sentence and my heart instantly twitches. How can anyone not be happy to see Lando or be around him?

"Course not Lan. Simply was telling Natalie a few issues I had. Nothing important." I gather up my words and put out a fake cough to prepare for the start of the interview.

"Who hurt you? I will deal with them. Nobody messes with my favourite girl." Lando gets all tensed up, thinking I was being serious.

"Scratch that, he is obsessed with you and simply we all else don't exist. Good luck." Natalie whispers in my ear as she softly pats my back before leaving.

"It's ok Lando. I am okay. So, shall we start?" I look up to be met with his dazzling green eyes who hide nothing inside them, but genuine worry about my hypothetical problem.

Thankfully the interview rolls out very smoothly. No shocking statements, everything in words that the media won't be able to twist and simple happiness, which was something Lando hadn't been able to express in recent interviews.

"Say now, who is this person you have a few issues with? Can I help anyhow?" Lando asks for the third time today, since for the whole ride back to the hotel I was trying to avoid giving him an answer. I really don't wanna say anything to offend him.

"Really, everything is fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"You know I don't have the best of relationships with media people, but ever since you came around, I feel more relaxed and comfortable around the TV Pen. Please let me make your experience even more enjoyable."

Lando twisted the knife around my heart even tighter. It's not like his flirting makes me uncomfortable. I want to keep things professional but he makes it so difficult for me to resist him. I really don't want to neither make a fool of myself in front of him, if this turns out to be innocent flirting, nor have any issues with my co-workers at Sky and my employers.

"I will stay outside your room all night if you don't tell me what's going on."

"You're as stubborn off track, as you are on track as well?"

"You could test that if you want, darling."

My stomach dropped the moment he uttered those words.

"You clearly have been testing me all this time in other ways."

"How? I don't understand." Lando looked at me with a severely confused manner.

"Am I the only reporter you have been flirting with?"

"Where do you want me to swear?"

"A simple yes or no will do."

He sighed and took a step back to give me space to breathe. He seemed defeated and a bit hurt with my accusation.

"You are the only person I am feeling comfortable with, besides a few drivers. I see you more often than my own family. You never shame me in public, no matter a good or bad performance. Always try to defend my image after a few slips this season. Do you seriously believe that I would focus my attention on anyone else besides you? You are wonderful, y/n. I am sorry if I led you to believe the opposite."

I was left speechless. Maybe Natalie's words after all were true. Lando does feel more comfortable around me than many others in the paddock. I could feel my cheeks reddening and a wave of guilt washing me over.

"Lando, I am so sorry. I just didn't want our relationship to be ruined if all this was a simple innocent flirt. I didn't want it to get into my head and influence me negatively towards you."

"Trust me, this was more than simple flirting. I can keep evolving it if you allow me to."

"But now that I have told you my 'issue' you wont stay outside my room."

"Again, I hope you allow me to show you what I really feel. Which kind of requires you letting me inside your room."

Bells inside my brain were manically ringing to grand him access and test the water of what this could turn into. As if my attraction towards Lando wasn't already obvious, the last thing I needed was to reject his offer.

I take the card key outside of my back pocket and open the door, but before I could invite Lando in, his hand had been tangled around my waist and his lips crash into mine, sucking all the air from my lungs. With a swift move he picks me up and twirls me all the way to the king sized bed.

My fingers slip under his shirt, removing it in a matter of seconds and finally being met with his tanned chest and beautiful silver cross necklace. With no alert, I feel my bralette loosening up and being thrown on the floor.

"Fucking stunning." Lando murmurs before he traces my nipples with his index finger, earning a soft moan from me. I am so easily aroused by his actions that even the slightest movement can drive me crazy.

Above the bedpost, there is a beautiful painting of a couple, in which the man is kissing and admiring his lady's womanhood. Lando takes a quick look at it, with a huge grin being shaped on his lips.

"Let me get a taste of you baby." Both his arms grasp my thighs and place them around his neck, with Lando winking at me and in a few moments, placing his mouth on top my coursing wet world. Kissing, sucking and endless licking caused my knuckles to harden from the constant pulling of the sheets.

"Fuck me." I blurt out senselessly as Lando's tongue flicks up my soft spot and I harshly pull on his curls.

"Literally any time of the day." he responds as I feel his manhood closing up all the space inside me. Warmth fills my heart and brain and I am starting to feel delirious.

His middle finger is playing with my clit, while he is thrusting inside me tirelessly, slowly clenching around him, tracing the veins around his cock.

"A monaco race winner has never felt so good" I mutter in between my teeth.

"Thousand times better being with you than on top of the podium" he moans getting closer on edge.

[i-cant-think-of-anything-to-say]

thank you for tagging meeee <3 <3

Last Song I Listened To: All The Young Dudes-- David Bowie

Favorite Color: Purple! I love all shades of purple, but I really love dark midnight purple and bright neon purple. 💜

Currently Watching: Bones & The Last of Us. I highly recommend both of them! And of course, my chronic Supernatural rewatch, if I don't watch at least one episode a day, I might actually die. Well, I guess I don't really know what would happen, because I've been doing this for years now, but it definitely wouldn't be good.

Last Movie: Dead Poets Society! If you want to cry uncontrollably, this is the movie for you. I never watched movies very often, but one day I decided to watch DPS because I kept seeing posts about it. My worst mistake and my best decision.

Currently Reading: I'm currently reading the Odyssey, or I would be reading it if I had time. I honestly haven't picked it up in days.

Sweet, Spicy, or Savory: Out of these three, I would choose savory, but I really like salty foods. It's so bad at this rate, my kidneys will give out before I reach 30.

Relationship: I'm aroace! I'm still not sure how I feel about having a QPR, but maybe one of these days I'll meet "the one."

Current Obsessions: I'm gonna have to say Batfam. I also have to give a shoutout to John Constantine

Last Googled: "ao3" I need my bedtime stories!

Currently Working On: Finals are coming up for me, so I'm currently calculating what grade I need on the Calculus Final to end up with at least a C average. My current grade in Calculus is a C, and I want to (hopefully) maintain that. But things aren't looking good, guys. Does anyone here know implicit differentiation?//hj. I also have a speech for American Lit. I need to write a business plan, make flashcards for Spanish vocab, and complete my Chemistry study guide for finals. My goal is to rewrite my U.S. History notes. I might make flashcards depending on how well I do on the practice test. I also want to start thinking about possibly posting on ao3. I promised myself that if I got a new computer, I'd write something, but then life got busy, so I said I'll wait until summer vacation. Now vacation is coming up in a few weeks, so I want to start preparing.

omg, just wrote an entire essay on my to-do list. we're gonna pretend that didnt happen and just move on to tags before the rambling gets worse.

im gonna be searching my followers list for the people i dont talk to often, i feel like i have so many mutuals that i never tag. So if you're one of those people: Hiii, welcome to my rambling! I hope we can get to know each other better <3 (IT GOT WORSE. I PHYSICALLY CAN NOT SHUT UP.)

npts <3 @books-bring-me-joy @sunflowermoonheart @outromoonyy @fluv0xamine @batfamazarath221 @penoffpaper @radhikas @audreyrose7 @addictedtohotchocolate @w1nterb3rrry @dissectedgrrl @thduckmaster @littleblackraincloudofcourse @gianni7867 @radioozone @royaldemon98 @overcastandunderachieving @oliveespineapples @captian-james-t-perfect-hair @zarans @juliasfanart @leosbrightstar @oxymoronicdumbass @its-dazey @inastarlesssky @iconicosmica @too-busy-for-this

nine people I would like to get to know better

Thank you @sentowritesstuff for tagging me!! I actually really like doing little games like this even if it’s something small it makes me happy lol

last song I listened to: I Hate It Here by Taylor Swift

favorite color: probably a really dark blue

currently watching: daredevil, andor s2, agent Carter, cloak and dagger, and a couple more

last movie: Avengers Infinity War

currently reading: Family of Liars by E. Lockhart

sweet, spicy, or savory: all of them!! I cant choose a favorite!!

relationship: single☹️ My crush doesn’t like me back and I refuse to talk to him

current obsessions: agent Carter, captain america and stucky in general (as usual), Star Wars, the naturals series, six of crows again, baking carrot cakes, and writing poetry about my shitty family

last googled: where to watch into the spiderverse?

currently working on: a speech for school, a poem series, and a fanfic about stucky

I’m going to tag: @spidersinsalem @olicitylighthome @aurore-boreal1s @scarfacemarston @bufferingsummers @onyx-di-angelo @crazysandwich @bloodorange17 & @mentalmeles

no pressure though if you’ve already done it or don’t want to

[maewphoria]

⠀

⌗⠀양정원⠀⠀CAT⠀DISTRIBUTION⠀SYSTEM⠀꒰⠀PT.4⠀꒱

⠀

SYNOPSIS⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀starting college in a new city, you’re settling into your apartment and trying to make it feel like home. on your first day, a fluffy calico cat appears on your neighbor's balcony, jumping towards yours as if to greet you, stealing your heart instantly. but when a voice calls out for the cat from the next balcony, panic sets in—you rush back inside, too shy to meet your new neighbor. that neighbor turns out to be yang jungwon, a fellow student in the same university who’s also new in town. thanks to his mischievous and adventurous cat, the two of you keep running into each other in the most unexpected ways. a friendship blossoms, slowly turning into something deeper—though jungwon keeps insisting it’s nothing more than friendship. as feelings grow stronger, the question remains: will their bond turn into something more—or remain just a college memory?

pairing⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀college student!yang jungwon x college student!f.reader. featuring⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀all enhypen members, le sserafim yunjin, kazuha, and chaewon, aespa winter and karina (soon). word count⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀13.562k genre⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, kinda slow burn, college life, university life, slice of life, comedy (although i don't find myself funny), friendships, relationships, and the cat distribution system. (it has chosen you and gave you two lovely cats.) warnings⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀drinking alcohol, parties, getting drunk (obviously), misunderstandings, jealousy, denial (jungwon is in denial), cowardice behaviour (jungwon is also a coward), lots of flirting and tension, cat keeps breaking into your apartment, kissing, skinship, reader (aka us) is very delusional and does a lot of overthinking, a bit cringe (i think it's cringe bcs i wrote it), and might contain suggestive content in the later parts that are yet to be posted. lowercase letters intended. very proofread. tell me if i'm missing anything. mæw's notes⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀hi guys! pt.4 is finally out! please enjoy! i kinda had a hard time writing pt.4 because i don’t really know what it’s like to study at a university abroad. i had to do some research on schools like harvard and ucla, and i found out they have over 100 buildings—like wtf? so i ended up creating my own university from scratch, added courses, building names, and all that. i just hope it’s somewhat close to how it is in real life. likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated.

library⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀part one. part two. part three.

#⠀OO5⠀:⠀WRONG TURNS AND REGRETS.

it had been three weeks since the welcoming party for the architecture students—an event you had somehow, miraculously, survived despite being a business ad major who had absolutely no business being there in the first place. yet the mystery gnawed at you still: how, exactly, had you gotten home that night?

for days, you pestered your friends for answers, clinging onto the hope that someone, anyone, might remember. but their confusion only mirrored your own. none of them knew how they had returned either.

they had all woken up already sprawled in their own dormitory as if placed there by invisible hands.

yunjin and kazuha were tangled together in a half-conscious cuddle on the living room carpet, while chaewon had managed to claim the entirety of the sofa for herself, mouth slightly agape, a small snore escaping every few breaths.

their recollections aligned eerily with yours—except for the part where you woke up tucked neatly in your own room.

your cropped crochet open-knit bolero was gone from your shoulders, folded neatly atop your bedside table. left behind was just your black spaghetti strap crop top, the hem riding a little too high up your stomach because of how deep your sleep was, and your shoes and socks resting side by side on the floor.

the scene was unsettlingly familiar, like déjà vu reaching out and tapping you on the shoulder. it reminded you of that night, just two nights before, when jungwon had helped your drunken self wobble back home with both patience and grace.

perhaps, maybe, it was jungwon once again.

except—you hadn't properly spoken to him since that afternoon when he had helped you carry and move your furniture into your new apartment.

he hadn’t even messaged, save for that polite "you're welcome" he sent, replying to your thank you message the morning before the party, a message so brief yet so final it almost stung. you didn’t even know if he had attended the party.

you and your friends obsessed over the mystery for a few more days, exchanging theories that grew more ridiculous with each retelling, until eventually the puzzle pieces were abandoned, scattered into the corners of your minds. life simply moved on.

your days resumed their steady, predictable rhythm.

yami would occasionally grace your apartment with her presence, weaving between your legs and purring like she owned the place.

you also dedicated yourself to preparing for the impending start of classes, assembling supplies and adjusting to the small, adult routines of calling your parents, updating them on your well-being and pretending everything was under perfect control.

you often found yourself heading down to the lobby to collect yet another delivery or two—nothing screamed adulthood like ordering a random cat mug at 2am. you ran errands with your friends, laughing over the ridiculous list of essentials you somehow convinced yourselves were necessary for survival.

yet despite all the activity, one thing remained absent: jungwon.

not a glimpse. not even a fleeting shadow at the end of the corridor. despite living on the same floor, breathing the same recycled air of the building, he remained conspicuously missing.

you told yourself it was simply bad timing. maybe he was busy, after all, school was only a week away, and the looming pressure was starting to make even the calmest of students a little erratic.

yunjin, in particular, had turned into a delightful hurricane of stress, insisting she didn't have enough materials even as her arms overflowed with sketchbooks, pencils, and highlighters of every conceivable color.

you, chaewon, and kazuha simply watched her spin through the aisles of the school and art supplies store, your expressions a perfect blend of concern and secondhand embarrassment.

"she must be excited," the three of you thought in unison, exchanging knowing glances as yunjin bolted toward yet another aisle like a woman possessed, clutching a sixth sketchpad to her chest.

the last week of the month slipped through your fingers like water, and before you could truly brace yourself, it was already the morning of your first day, orientation and tour day.

now you stood frozen in front of your closet, eyes darting from hanger to hanger, as if the right outfit might magically materialize if you stared long enough.

nerves twisted in your stomach.

you were nervous—nervous that you might get lost on campus despite yunjin thoughtfully printing out campus maps for all of you, highlighting routes and buildings like a seasoned tour guide.

nervous that you might embarrass yourself, trip over nothing, mispronounce a professor’s name, or somehow make such a terrible first impression that your professors would loathe you on sight (spoiler: they wouldn’t).

but above all else, you were nervous because, even though your friends were attending the same university, they were scattered across different programs and faculties. for the first time in one month, you were truly on your own.

after what felt like an eternity of agonizing, you finally chose your outfit—something comfortable yet respectable—and swiftly packed your tote bag with every essential you could think of: a notebook, a pen, your wallet, a mini hand sanitizer, a spare charger, tissues, your mini make up bag, and a quiet hope that you wouldn’t cry in public.

you quickly ran a brush through your hair, trying to tame the chaos, then hurried out of your apartment, juggling the strap of your bag over your shoulder as you half-sprinted toward the elevators.

as you rounded the corner, a familiar figure came into view—jungwon.

your heart skipped a beat, a flash of relief blooming in your chest. instinctively, you called out to him, voice light with the kind of casual friendliness you reserved for someone you were hoping to bump into.

he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours—and for a split second, something unreadable flickered across his face.

but then, just as you reached out your hand as if to tell him to stop the elevator doors from closing. despite seeing you, jungwon did the unthinkable.

he let the elevator doors close.

right. in. front. of. you.

you stood there, blinking at the now shut metallic doors, your hand still slightly raised in midair, feeling like you had just been personally victimized by the universe.

“what the fuck was that about?” you muttered under your breath, pressing the elevator button with a bit more force than necessary, your mind racing through every possible explanation, none of which made any sense.

meanwhile, inside the descending elevator, jungwon was a whirlwind of self-inflicted misery.

he leaned his forehead against the cool metal wall, lightly banging it once, twice, before dragging his hand through his hair in pure frustration.

“fuck,” he hissed to no one in particular.

he could still see it—the exact expression you had given him through the narrowing gap of the doors. you had looked so... betrayed. and annoyed.

so wonderfully, vividly pretty despite the negative emotions plastered on your face.

this was the first time he had ever seen you wear that expression, and somehow, it managed to stab him right in the chest despite only knowing you for a month.

he wished he could rewind time, shove his foot between the doors and do anything but what he had just done. but deep down, he knew that even if he had stopped the doors, the air between you would have been thick with something worse than awkwardness.

because the truth was, jungwon had been avoiding you. deliberately.

and the worst part? you didn’t even know why.

technically, you had done something. but you were so devastatingly drunk that night, you couldn’t possibly remember it—and jungwon wasn’t planning on telling you, not now, not ever.

not if he could help it.

he let out a heavy sigh, a sound full of regret, and stepped out of the elevator, shoulders slightly hunched as if he could physically shrink away from the guilt clinging to him. he barely made it out of the apartment building when a voice cut sharply through the air, halting him in his tracks.

“jungwon!”

he gasped audibly, body stiffening like a startled cat. he knew that voice—knew it down to the very marrow of his bones.

he didn’t want to turn around. every instinct screamed at him to keep walking, to pretend he hadn’t heard. but guilt is a heavy thing, and it anchored his feet to the ground.

reluctantly, jungwon turned.

and instantly wished he hadn’t.

there you were, standing not far from him, brows knitted together in pure exasperation, confusion swirling in your eyes, and—worst of all—a tiny glint of hurt buried beneath it all.

he felt the ground tilt beneath him.

“h-hey, y/n…” he stammered, voice pitching higher than he intended, forcing an awkward chuckle out in a weak attempt to appear casual.

you raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow, the kind of expression that could slice a man’s ego clean in half. then, with deliberate steps, you closed the distance between you.

jungwon froze again, practically forgetting how to breathe as you stopped right in front of him, arms folding across your chest in a perfect display of judgment.

“earlier. at the elevator,” you said, your tone flat, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “what the hell was that about?”

your bluntness struck him like a slap, and he scrambled internally for an answer that would save him. his eyes darted everywhere—from the pavement to a passing bird to an invisible point in the sky—anywhere but your face.

for a brief moment, his brain offered him nothing but static. then, like a merciful flick of fate, an idea sparked.

“i—i misjudged!” he blurted out, straightening up a little, trying to sound convincing. “i thought you weren’t going to make it to the elevator in time!”

he mentally patted himself on the back for that one, almost proud of the quick recovery.

but you weren’t buying it.

you narrowed your eyes at him, your frown deepening. “i could’ve made it. easily. if you hadn’t just stood there like a damn npc and let the doors close.”

jungwon winced, the truth of your words hitting harder than he cared to admit.

“oh… right,” he muttered, suddenly finding the cracks on the sidewalk incredibly interesting. he shuffled his feet, searching desperately for an escape hatch, but it was obvious—he was trapped. there would be no running from this confrontation.

so, he went for the simplest, oldest trick in the book: sincerity (and his looks).

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he said, lifting his head to meet your gaze with the most devastatingly apologetic look he could summon. his big, round eyes practically screamed forgiveness, the corners of his lips tugging down in a perfect portrait of remorse.

and it worked. he saw it—the moment your defenses cracked, a twitch of a smile betraying you.

jungwon seized his opportunity like a man who had been offered a pardon.

“then—goodbye, y/n! see you around!” he chirped brightly, spinning on his heel and sprinting away like a guilty cartoon character.

you blinked, stunned into silence, watching his retreating figure with growing disbelief. it took your brain several long, painful seconds to reboot, short-circuiting somewhere between ‘he looks so cute!’ and ‘wait, did he just run away?’

“hey! wait, we’re going in the same direction!” you called out, but it was too late. jungwon was already halfway down the street, pretending not to hear you.

you stood there, blinking dumbly after him, utterly bewildered by what had just transpired.

you exhaled through your nose, trying to calm your nerves, and pulled out your phone with a resigned sigh. you booked yourself an uber—because clearly, walking in the same direction as jungwon was not on today's agenda.

as if sensing your gaze still somewhere near him, jungwon abruptly veered off to another street, almost comically dramatic with the way he ducked his head and hurried his steps, clearly trying to escape your line of sight.

pathetic. dramatic. suspiciously fast. definitely guilty.

meanwhile, in his small spiral of panic, jungwon fumbled with his phone, his thumbs moving in a frenzy as he typed out a message to riki.

jungwon: where r u. pick me up. now.

but before he could even finish cursing under his breath, riki’s familiar car came to a stop right in front of him, its timing almost poetic.

the passenger-side window rolled down with a mechanical hum, revealing sunoo, who stared at him with an expression that perfectly blended confusion and secondhand embarrassment.

“yo, you look like you just got chased by a ghost,” sunoo said flatly, squinting at jungwon’s slightly sweaty forehead and thoroughly ruffled hair. “or, like, karma.”

jungwon rolled his eyes with a dramatic groan, not even trying to explain himself as he yanked open the back door.

“long story,” he muttered, flopping into the seat like a man who had just survived a war—an emotional war, perhaps, but a war nonetheless.

riki, in the driver's seat and already smirking, glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “good. we’ve got time,” he quipped, clearly eager for some tea.

jungwon waved a hand weakly in the air, “just drive,” he muttered. “we’ll be late.”

riki turned to sunoo with a knowing look. sunoo shrugged, as if to say ‘don’t look at me’, and riki shrugged right back. without further protest, he shifted gears and pulled out of the street, the car humming softly as they began the drive to campus.

jungwon leaned his head back against the seat, shutting his eyes. he could still see your face—your expression when you caught him ditching you at the elevator, the betrayal in your eyes, the sheer ‘what the hell’ radiating off you like heat.

and worse, he could still hear the echo of your voice: “we’re going in the same direction!”

tragically… you were right.

you, on the other hand, had already slipped into the back seat of your uber, the cool leather offering a small comfort as the city passed by in a blur. the ride was quiet—your driver occasionally humming along to the radio while you stared out the window, half-lost in your thoughts. within minutes, the car pulled up to your destination.

there it was. your university. grand horizon university. standing tall and proud, like an academic kingdom with gates flung wide open, welcoming—and slightly overwhelming—its new citizens.

students swarmed the entrance like ants on a sugar cube. some were poring over crumpled maps with puzzled brows, others paced in small circles while mumbling to themselves. a few brave souls had resorted to asking complete strangers where to go, and many had approached the campus security guards like weary travelers begging for directions to the nearest oasis.

you reached into your tote, pulled out your phone, and snapped a quick photo of the chaos—a little memento of your first day. the picture captured the mix of excitement and confusion around you, and you sent it to your group chat with a quick message:

you: i’ve arrived. front gate. help before i disappear into the crowd.

you were just about to scroll idly when you felt a sudden presence behind you—followed by familiar squeals and arms flinging around your shoulders.

“boo!” yunjin’s voice rang in your ear, immediately followed by kazuha and chaewon joining in on the ambush, their smiles wide, their energy contagious.

you spun around, pretending to scowl but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. you hugged them all back, your nerves easing just a little with the comfort of familiar faces.

“you could’ve warned me,” you muttered with faux irritation, brushing your hair back.

“where’s the fun in that?” kazuha smirked.

together, the four of you started walking toward the main entrance towards the main building in the middle of the university, your chatter bouncing lightly between you, an easy mix of nervous laughter and unfiltered panic.

“okay but like... are we ready?” chaewon asked, adjusting her strap bag anxiously.

“mentally? no. emotionally? also no. physically? barely.” yunjin replied, flailing her arms dramatically. “but spiritually? absolutely not.”

you all laughed, and for a moment, the tension melted. but as soon as the university doors opened, the noise hit you like a wave.

inside was just as chaotic—if not worse—than outside. students were huddled around bulletin boards, craning their necks and squinting as they tried to decipher lists of names, classroom codes, building numbers and names, and professor names that sounded made-up.

you weaved through the crowd with your friends and finally found your schedules, each of you staring on your copies of the campus map.

and then came the collective groan.

“ugh! why does this university have to look like a whole freaking village?” yunjin cried, clutching her map like it had betrayed her.

“tell me about it,” kazuha added, staring at her map like it might rearrange the buildings if she blinked hard enough. “i swear, i’m about to rent an electric scooter. or a horse.”

“why,” you said slowly, squinting at the map, “does this university have two hundred and thirty buildings?”

they both turned to pat your shoulders in silent solidarity, as if sharing the same academic tragedy. you sighed dramatically, already feeling the weight of your future footsteps.

you all then looked at chaewon, silently praying she had it just as bad.

she glanced at her schedule and gave a sheepish shrug. “mine’s kinda near... but also not? like, it’s not far-far but it’s not close either.”

you, yunjin, and kazuha groaned in unison before rolling your eyes and playfully turning your backs on her, walking away as if she had betrayed the sisterhood.

“rude!” chaewon called after you three with a laugh, instantly chasing after you with quick steps, and soon enough, you were all walking again, side by side, navigating the labyrinth together.

“good thing we only have orientations and campus tours today. if we had actual classes right now, we’d probably be buried under a pile of wrong turns and regrets,” you said, half-laughing as you glanced down at your phone.

you tapped a quick message to your parents—‘i made it to school safely’—along with a photo of the university gate for good measure. your mom had already sent three heart emojis and a good luck gif. classic.

with that done, you turned your attention back to the ever-confusing campus map that you folded and tucked between your fingers, just behind your phone earlier.

“okay, so right now we’re at aurora hall,” you began, squinting at the tiny lines and icons. “and i need to get to the south part of campus.”

your words caught everyone’s attention. three heads immediately leaned over your shoulder, eyes narrowing like detectives over a case file.

“wait—you’re going to the south campus too?” yunjin asked, pointing at the lower quadrant of your map. “what building?”

you tilted your map toward her while pointing at the building. “the vanguard business hall. apparently that’s the main building for business admin majors.”

as soon as the words left your mouth, the excitement erupted.

“no way, i’m headed there too!” yunjin gasped, then quickly clarified. “well, not there—i’ve got architecture at arcadia studios, but it’s in the same area.”

“me too,” kazuha chimed in, flashing a grin. “grand horizon performing arts center. sounds dramatic. fitting, right?”

chaewon raised her hand like she was in class. “silver screen studios for film and tv. also south campus.”

and just like that, a burst of collective relief washed over the group. you all let out a synchronized squeal, followed by a group hug that was slightly chaotic and entirely uncoordinated. still, it felt good—like the universe had decided to bless you today.

at least for the trip to south campus, you wouldn't be alone.

“okay, transportation,” chaewon said, already back in planner mode. “should we rent e-bikes or ride the shuttle buses?”

you all looked down at the map again, tracing little lines between buildings, searching for the nearest shuttle stops and rental stations.

“e-bikes sound cute in theory,” yunjin mused, “but we’d probably end up somewhere in a forbidden faculty zone and get expelled before day two.”

“true,” you said, nodding. “let’s not risk accidental trespassing just yet.”

the group collectively agreed: shuttle bus it was.soon enough, you were all sprinting through the university corridors like you were in a slice-of-life anime opening sequence. wind in your hair, laughter echoing behind you, dodging slow walkers like pros, and somehow managing to arrive at the shuttle bus station just in time.

the vehicle hissed to a halt as students boarded one by one, and the four of you squeezed into the middle row, still catching your breath and trying to act like you weren’t about to melt from the sprint.

as the bus rolled forward, it passed through winding lanes, landscaped gardens, and sleek buildings that shimmered beneath the sun. the driver, with a calm voice and an obvious love for punctuality, announced each stop clearly through the overhead speaker:

“silver screen studios.”

“grand horizon performing arts center.”

“arcadia studios.”

one by one, your friends got off. chaewon first, waving enthusiastically. then kazuha, who gave a little spin before hopping off, dramatically clutching her schedule like a script. yunjin followed next, shooting you a thumbs up as if to say ‘you’ve got this’.

and finally, it was your turn.you stood, your tote slung over your shoulder, and stepped off with the others headed toward the vanguard business hall—a part of the sprawling college of business and management complex.

as your shoes hit the pavement, you took a deep breath. this was it. your first real step into university life.

then, you looked up at the towering structure before you, your breath hitching slightly in awe.

the vanguard business hall stood like a monument to ambition—ten stories high, cloaked in sleek panels of silver and glass that shimmered beneath the morning light. its clean lines and polished finish gave it the kind of sharp sophistication that whispered, ‘only the bold survive here’. it was the kind of building that didn’t just exist—it announced itself.

for a moment, you stood at the base of it, tilting your head all the way back just to take it in, as if you were trying to absorb some of its power through sheer admiration. you could almost hear it taunting you, daring you to prove you belonged here.

you exhaled softly and squared your shoulders, adjusting the strap of your bag as if it might suddenly make you feel more grown-up, more prepared.

then you quietly muttered under your breath, a little pep talk to yourself, “okay... good luck, me.”

and with that final whisper of hope and bravado, you stepped forward and pushed open the glass doors—walking into the future with all the courage, curiosity, and slightly faked confidence you could muster.

just a few minutes earlier, jungwon and his friends had found themselves in a strikingly similar situation as you and your group—equally disoriented, equally overwhelmed, and just as hilariously unprepared for the sheer sprawl of campus life.

the five of them had huddled around a map, each trying to decipher the labyrinth of buildings, shuttles, and cryptic acronyms like they were decoding ancient hieroglyphs. eventually, the group had to split, though not without groaning dramatically about the injustice of parting ways on their very first day.

jake and sunghoon, after much squinting and turning the map sideways for no apparent reason, had discovered they both needed to head north.

jake was assigned to the science complex—ominously named the helix research center—while sunghoon had to make his way to the monolithic fusion engineering complex, which honestly sounded more like a boss level in a video game than a school building.

meanwhile, jungwon, riki, and sunoo were bound for the south campus. jungwon had orientation at the arcadia studios—the heart of the architecture department. riki was heading to the grand horizon performing arts center, while sunoo was off to the silver screen studios, home to film and tv production students (and future dramatic monologues, no doubt).

the farewell was brief but not without flair. sunghoon and jake darted off to their own shuttle station with mock salutes and promises not to get lost or abducted by rogue professors. the remaining three made their way to the same shuttle bus station you and your friends had used earlier.

though fate had kept your paths from crossing that morning, something about the moment had tugged at jungwon—a peculiar sense of déjà vu, or maybe just the faintest echo of your voice from that first conversation you ever had. it hovered somewhere in the back of his mind, stubbornly refusing to take shape.

the shuttle ride was short, efficient, and surprisingly smooth and now, jungwon stood before the arcadia studios.

he didn’t enter right away.

instead, he lingered at the edge of the building’s shadow, tilting his head back to fully absorb the sight before him. the arcadia studios were a brutalist marvel—raw, unapologetic concrete rising like a fortress. but the roughness was softened by its tiers of lush greenery, terraces overflowing with vibrant plants that draped down the façade like ivy at an ancient castle. it was both cold and alive, severe yet poetic.

in his eyes, it wasn’t just a building.

it was a declaration. a promise that creativity didn’t have to be polished to be profound. and for jungwon, a budding architect with dreams too big for his own good, it was love at first sight.

he smiled softly to himself, the earlier tension melting away just a little. then, with one last breath of courage, he stepped through the wide doors and disappeared inside.

once everyone had disappeared into their respective buildings, the real whirlwind began.

orientations were in full swing. professors, sharp-dressed and bright-eyed (well, most of them), made their introductions—some warm and charismatic, others slightly robotic, as if they’d already rehearsed their welcome speeches one too many times over the years.

after a short talk, students were nudged into groups of ten for the ever-dreaded yet unavoidable “get-to-know-you” icebreakers.

each person took turns standing up, voice wavering or booming with overconfidence, depending on their personality. they shared their names, the courses they’d chosen, and why they had enrolled at grand horizon university.

the stories were a mix of heartfelt dreams, practical decisions, and the occasional joke that drew scattered chuckles. one guy said he only came here because the food in the cafeteria was ranked top ten in a blog he trusted religiously. no one knew if he was serious. he probably was.

some students spoke with ease, others visibly battled secondhand embarrassment for their peers, and a few simply tried to survive the social gauntlet without spontaneously combusting. it was a chaos of charm and awkwardness.

once the introductions settled down, the next phase began: the grand tour.

sleek shuttle buses lined up like in front of the buildings, waiting to tour the new students around the southern half of the campus. professors climbed aboard alongside their groups, and designated student guides took to the front, bright smiles plastered on as they reached for the intercoms.

the tour was fairly straightforward—an overview of each building as they passed, the guide pointing out massive lecture halls, pristine laboratories, sunlit studios, and confusingly named complexes.

each announcement was followed by students craning their necks to look out windows, snapping quick photos or scribbling down building names as if they'd remember which was which by tomorrow. they wouldn’t. no one ever does.

on your side of things, the tour had turned unexpectedly delightful. two students sitting near you had sparked up a conversation, and before you knew it, laughter flowed easily among you. you talked about your majors, your expectations, the panic of navigating an unfamiliar campus, and which professors looked like they've already prepared our downfall for fun.

your nerves slowly melted away into genuine enjoyment. there was something comforting about realizing everyone else was just as lost and excited as you were.

meanwhile, on another shuttle just a few buildings away, jungwon sat stiffly in his seat, listening to the tour guide’s voice drift through the bus. he nodded now and then, more out of politeness than curiosity, but his thoughts were elsewhere—spiraling.

something was gnawing at the edges of his mind. he couldn't shake that strange pull, the feeling that he'd forgotten something important. something—or someone.

then, as if fate had impeccable comedic timing, he turned his head toward the window.

and there you were.

riding a shuttle labeled ‘college of business and management complex’. chatting animatedly with the people beside you, smiling in that way that made things feel lighter.

his eyes widened as it hit him all at once.

bsba hrm. that’s what you said when you first met. that's your major. and now, here you were, in the south campus—his campus. so much for thinking he could spend the day dodging any accidental reunions. the universe had other plans.

“oh, i am so screwed,” he muttered under his breath, dragging out his map and promptly holding it up like a newspaper in a spy movie, trying to block his face from view even though you were clearly far too engrossed in your conversation to notice him. still, he wasn’t taking any chances.

he slumped deeper into his seat, sighing into his collar. maybe if he wished hard enough, he’d turn invisible. or teleport. either option sounded appealing.

once the orientation and tours wrapped up, you were quick to text your friends, fingers flying across the keyboard as you asked if they were finished and where they wanted to meet.

the replies came fast—chaewon, kazuha, and yunjin had wrapped up too, and without much debate, you all agreed on a place: the design & arts café tucked near the college of architecture, design, and planning.

it was quaint, cozy, and boasted drinks with pretentious names like “aesthetic matcha fog” and “monochrome americano.” you loved it.

coincidentally—though destiny might argue otherwise—jungwon, riki, and sunoo had just finished their own orientations and had exactly the same idea.

“design & arts café?” sunoo asked, scrolling through his phone.

“sounds good,” jungwon mumbled distractedly, still recovering from the earlier heart attack.

and so, completely unaware of each other’s plans, both groups set off toward the same charming café… one for coffee and comfort, and the other, unknowingly, toward a collision course with chaos—or maybe just an awkward reunion.

the four of you arrived at the café first, fortunate enough to beat the incoming tide of students that soon began trickling in, like drops before a storm. the design & arts café, with its warm amber lighting and soft hum of lo-fi music, was already halfway to overflowing.

its charm lay in the deliberate mess of creativity—sketches and prints hung on the walls, mismatched chairs that somehow worked together, and menus handwritten in chalk that made even the simplest drinks sound like a masterpiece.

yunjin and chaewon, ever the designated errand duo, volunteered to place everyone's orders, slipping away toward the counter with practiced ease. meanwhile, you and kazuha remained at the table, guarding everybody’s bags and phones, nestled in the quiet lull before the café reached peak chaos.

“good thing we got here earlier,” kazuha remarked, eyes drifting toward the growing line that now curved around the entrance.

you nodded, grateful for the lucky timing. while waiting, you and kazuha exchanged stories about your respective orientations and campus tours, comparing professors, the energy of your groupmates, and the many moments of near-miscommunication that left everyone either giggling or sweating.

just as you were imitating the overly dramatic voice of your tour guide, yunjin and chaewon returned, trays in hand and cheeks flushed from the heat and noise of the café.

“they said the food might take ten to fifteen minutes,” yunjin announced as she plopped down beside kazuha, setting the drinks on the table with theatrical flair.

chaewon took the spot next to you, carefully distributing napkins, straws, and drinks before handing the empty tray to a passing waiter. “thank you!” the four of you chimed in chorus.

“what were you guys chatting about?” chaewon asked, leaning slightly closer, curiosity evident in her eyes.

“just our orientations and the tour,” you replied, already sipping from your drink, the coldness cutting through the lingering warmth in the air.

“were they fun?” yunjin raised a brow, stirring her iced latte lazily.

you all nodded enthusiastically, breaking into a rapid-fire exchange of stories—mock reenactments, dramatic gasps, and exaggerated impressions of professors who clearly didn’t know how to use microphones.

laughter filled your little corner of the café, wrapping around you like a comforter. and then kazuha suddenly paused mid-laugh, eyes lighting up as if a forgotten memory had just barged its way back into her consciousness.

“oh right!” she said, waving her hand to corral everyone's attention. “something happened earlier.”

you looked up from your cheeseburger croissant, mid-bite. “what happened?”

kazuha leaned in a little, her tone dropping as if she were about to share a scandalous secret. “this guy came up to me and said he knew me—like, knew us. he asked what happened after the welcome party, when he helped us three back to our dorm.”

chaewon’s eyes widened in recognition. she gasped, slapped a hand over her mouth, then quickly chewed and swallowed whatever she'd been munching on before blurting out, “wait! the exact same thing happened to me!”

the table fell quiet in suspense as chaewon leaned in. “a cute guy—super polite—walked up and asked the same thing!”

“cute?” yunjin perked up, clearly invested now. “did they say their names?”

kazuha squinted in thought. “he said his name was… riki? or maybe kiki? something like that. honestly, i’m bad with names.”

chaewon giggled, nodding in solidarity. “mine said something like… sunoo? or soonoo? i think? he had great skin though.”

you blinked. “you guys are hopeless.”

kazuha, unfazed, twirled her fork through her carbonara. “i asked him how he even knew about us and he just smiled and said, ‘a friend of ours is a friend of yours.’ like—hello? what does that even mean?”

“that sounds like the start of a treasure hunt,” yunjin muttered, eyes narrowed. “or a mafia movie.”

you all laughed, tossing out theories as if you were detectives in a teen mystery drama. maybe they were undercover students. maybe it was a dare. maybe one of them was a secret admirer pulling the strings behind the scenes.

what none of you realized, however, was that not far from your table, just past the display case of pastries and behind a pair of oblivious art majors discussing something color related, stood jungwon, sunoo, and riki—utterly unaware of the conversation unfolding about them.

while riki and sunoo bickered over the menu—sunoo insisting on the blueberry muse tea, while riki claimed it sounded like a shampoo—jungwon stood a little apart, tuning out the noise of their playful quarrel.

the café was now a full-blown frenzy, packed with chattering students, baristas calling out names over the whirr of machines, and the occasional chair scrape that made everyone flinch for no reason at all.

jungwon sighed softly, the way someone does when they’ve just realized they're the only sane one in the group. he turned around, neck craning slightly as he scanned the room in search of an empty table. a small miracle: tucked near the corner, almost hidden, was a table clearly meant for four—but with one chair missing. three chairs. three of them. perfect.

just as he opened his mouth to share the discovery with the others, his words caught in his throat.

at the edge of his vision—soft, golden, unmistakably familiar—was you.

you were sitting with your friends, smile wide, laughter lighting up your features in a way that made the café’s dim lighting seem brighter for a second. jungwon froze. the kind of stillness that only happens when something—or someone—unexpected reappears.

he hadn’t even realized he'd stopped moving until a light tap on his shoulder brought him back to earth.

“jungwon, you okay?” sunoo asked, eyebrows raised in concern before following jungwon’s line of sight. and then, he smiled. “oh, is that chaewon? i think that’s chaewon.”

sunoo tried waving a little in her direction, although chaewon didn’t notice—too absorbed in peeling the lid off her drink. jungwon blinked rapidly and looked away, but not before sunoo had seen enough to realize this wasn’t about chaewon, it was about the girl sitting beside her.

“what are you two doing?” riki called out from the front, motioning to them to move up in the line. “we’re holding people up.”

“we saw someone we know,” sunoo explained as he fell in beside riki. “chaewon’s here, in the café. she’s in my major too.”

“oh yeah,” riki said, recognition dawning. “i think i met one of her friends too—kazuha, i think? she’s also in performing arts.”

they shuffled forward in line, but jungwon lingered behind, staring at the floor like it had just whispered his deepest secret aloud.

“guys,” jungwon said, voice low, “can we… maybe go to a different café?”

sunoo and riki turned to him, nearly in unison. “huh? why?”

“i mean,” he started, a little too quickly, “i just thought maybe we could eat near the north campus instead? maybe link up with sunghoon and jake? it might be less crowded too.”

riki and sunoo exchanged a look—half confusion, half telepathic best friend conversation. they could see it: the slight panic in jungwon’s eyes, the nervous clench of his jaw. something was up.

but they didn’t press.

“sure, man,” riki said with a shrug, stepping out of the line as if they hadn’t just spent fifteen minutes arguing over drinks.

sunoo smiled gently, falling in behind him. “that’s a great idea, actually. i’ll text sunghoon—see where they’re eating.”

jungwon exhaled, the relief immediate and visible in his shoulders. he trailed after them, grateful, fingers twitching with the anxious energy he hadn't managed to shake off since seeing you.

as they exited the café, the soft ding of the doorbell signaling their departure, jungwon allowed himself one last glance over his shoulder.

you were still there, surrounded by laughter, unaware of the ripple you’d sent through him.

he looked away and sighed, the sound quiet but heavy, and walked out into the sunlit afternoon, where his friends were already waiting.

as soon as they received the location from sunghoon and jake, the three made their way to the stem fuel stop, a modern, industrial-style café nestled just outside the college of science and mathematics complex.

the walls were covered in chalkboard doodles and formulas no one actually read, while the smell of roasted coffee beans and sizzling fries hung comfortably in the air.

they walked in, instantly greeted by jake’s enthusiastic wave from across the room. he was already seated at a corner table, mid-bite, with a tray of fries between him and sunghoon, who looked up from his phone looking like he just aged five academic years.

“there you guys are,” jake grinned, mouth half-full, before popping another fry into his mouth.

sunghoon gave them a small nod, setting his phone down slowly, eyes shifting to jungwon, who hadn’t said a word since entering.

they took their seats—sunoo on one end, riki beside him, and jungwon in the middle, visibly tense. sunoo and riki exchanged a glance before both quietly turned their attention to jungwon, brows slightly raised.

“so… what gives?” jake asked, licking salt off his fingers. “thought you were all eating at the design & arts café?”

“we were supposed to,” riki replied casually, reaching for a fry. “but it was already packed when we got there, and jungwon suggested we head here instead.”

his voice was nonchalant, but the way he tilted his head toward jungwon didn’t go unnoticed. jake and sunghoon caught it immediately, their gazes now fixed on the boy in question.

“okay,” sunoo began, arms crossed, leaning in a little. “jungwon. spill.”

jungwon let out a sigh so deep, it seemed to come from the soles of his feet. he closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to meet four sets of expectant eyes. and so, with the weight of an overly dramatic confession pressing on his chest, he told them everything.

he began with that night—the aftermath of the architecture welcoming party. how he’d offered to take you back to your apartment, just trying to be polite and helpful. everything was fine... until it wasn’t.

“i swear, she just stopped in the kitchen,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “and then she cupped my cheeks. my actual face.”

riki choked on a sip of soda. “no way—”

“yes way,” jungwon groaned. “and before i could even process what was happening, she just—started kissing me. on the face. like how she kissed my cat. repeatedly. with affection. so much affection.”

sunghoon blinked. “you got yami’d.”

“i got ambushed,” jungwon clarified, looking pained. “i didn’t even have time to run.”

his friends looked equally horrified and amused, already piecing the chaos together.

he went on to explain that ever since that night, he'd tried to maintain distance—create space. but you always showed up. in places he least expected. like some kind of charming poltergeist with perfect comedic timing.

then came this morning’s catastrophe.

“remember earlier,” he added, shifting uncomfortably, “when you caught me hiding behind a wall just a street away from my apartment building looking like i saw a ghost?”

sunoo nodded slowly. “we thought you were being dramatic.”

“yeah, well, the ghost was her.”

the table burst into quiet laughter, and jungwon rolled his eyes before continuing.

“i just stepped into the elevator,” jungwon said, leaning forward with an exasperated whisper, “and then she just—turned the corner. like it was a horror movie. i panicked. froze. and let the elevator doors close right in front of her.”

the entire table groaned in unison, hands flying up as if trying to physically catch the level of secondhand embarrassment in the air.

“oh my god, you didn’t,” sunoo winced, clutching his chest.

“i did,” jungwon sighed, defeated. “and of course, she was already behind me before i could go outside the building. called my name. asked me what just happened. i panicked again and said—” he paused, covering his face. “the most ridiculous excuse ever.”

“what did you say?” jake asked, eyes wide.

“i said ‘i misjudged! i thought you weren’t going to make it to the elevator in time!’” he said and groaned.

they all stared at him before groaning, basically saying ‘what the hell man?’

“i know!” jungwon snapped. “and she called me out immediately. saying, ‘i could’ve made it. easily. if you hadn’t just stood there like a damn npc and let the doors close.’”

sunghoon shook his head, biting back a smile. “and then?”

“i did what any respectable man would do,” jungwon mumbled. “i gave her the puppy eyes. apologized. and then ran the second i saw her hesitate.”

a silence fell over the table.

then: laughter. loud, unforgiving laughter.

jake slapped the table. sunoo buried his face in his hands. riki leaned back like he was about to fall off his chair, while sunghoon just shook his head, muttering something about how this was better than any tv show.

“okay, but real talk,” sunoo said once the laughter settled. “don’t you think it’s a bit unfair? you’re avoiding her like she did something wrong, but she has no idea what that is.”

the others nodded slowly, their amusement now replaced with a kind of thoughtful concern.

jungwon let his head fall back against the chair, eyes staring up at the ceiling as if searching for divine intervention.

“i don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “i thought... ignoring her would be easier than explaining everything. i just didn’t want to deal with it.”

“look,” riki said, tone more serious now, “we get it. but just tell us what you want to do. whatever it is, we’ve got your back.”

jungwon sat up, looking around at the four boys who had somehow become his emotional support team. he smiled faintly, the knot in his chest loosening a little.

“she’s a business ad major,” he said. “her classes are in the south campus. there’s a real chance i’ll run into her again, and... i’m not ready for that. not yet.”

“then that’s what we’ll do,” sunoo said simply, clapping his hands once. “operation: avoid the girl who kisses like she’s greeting a house pet is a go.”

they all agreed with a chorus of nods, their expressions varying from concerned to playfully dramatic.

jungwon smiled genuinely this time, the kind of small, grateful smile you give when you feel seen—even if you’ve made a mess of things.

“thanks, guys,” he muttered.

they all smiled in return, and just like that, the conversation shifted. no more drama, no more awkward elevator encounters—at least not for now. they moved on to safer territory: their orientations, campus tours, the professors they’d met, and the weirdly aggressive squirrel sunghoon swore chased him near the library.

for now, all was calm. or at least, calm enough.

once the last bites of lunch had been savored and the cafés began to quiet, the university crowd began to drift toward a new destination: horizon square.

nestled at the very heart of grand horizon university—between the bustling north campus and the vibrant south—it stood as a kind of living crossroads, a wide-open plaza pulsing with student life. its sprawling walkways were paved with stone in geometric patterns, bordered by stretches of manicured lawn and punctuated with fountains that danced softly under the afternoon sun.

shuttle buses lined the curb like a mechanical parade and near the square's edges, street food stalls sizzled and smoked, perfuming the air with the smell of grilled meat, buttery pastries, and something sweetly unidentifiable.

this was the university's beating heart, and today, it was dressed for an occasion.

dozens of vibrant club stalls had taken over the square—each one boasting colorful tarps, makeshift banners, and enthusiastic upperclassmen who were equal parts persuasive and unhinged. this was club day, and at grand horizon university, it wasn’t just tradition—it was a requirement. every student had to join at least one club, a law more binding than some course requirement.

you stood with your friends at the edge of the square, bright pamphlets in your hands. it had been handed to you by a particularly energetic senior who’d practically stuffed it into your chest mid-walk. the paper listed every club on campus—from the usuals like student government and photography to more obscure options like the “modern escapists book society” and the suspiciously vague “club club.”

yunjin, kazuha, and chaewon had already circled their picks with the decisiveness of people ordering dessert after a good meal. you, however, stared at the list like it was written in another language.

“you okay?” chaewon asked, peeking over your shoulder as you flipped the pamphlet upside down, hoping it would spark inspiration.

“honestly?” you sighed. “none of them are calling out to me. i don’t want to just pick one because it sounds cool and end up trapped in a weekly horror show of forced interactions.”

“too late,” yunjin quipped, nudging you playfully. “that’s called college.”

she had already chosen to join the design society, which made perfect sense—she had the aesthetic sense of a pinterest board and the confidence to back it up. kazuha, on the other hand, had naturally gravitated toward the grand horizon dance company, drawn in by the familiar rhythm and stage lights. and chaewon? she surprised no one by going for the film & tv production society—if anyone was made for dramatic camera pans and chaotic editing rooms, it was her.

you admired their certainty as much as you envied it.

“i think i’ll just walk around,” you finally said, eyes scanning the lively square. “i want to see if any of these clubs actually speak to me. like, soul-to-soul.”

“sure,” kazuha smiled. “we’ll just see you at aurora hall when we’re done?”

“deal,” you nodded.

with that, the four of you drifted apart, each pulled in a different direction by color, curiosity, or convenience. the square buzzed around you like a beehive—music blasting from bluetooth speakers, laughter echoing, students juggling flyers and iced coffees, shouting over one another in a chorus of invitations.

and somewhere among that cheerful chaos, you were hoping to find your place.

or at least a club booth that didn't have glitter in the air and desperate energy in the eyes.

somewhere near the heart of horizon square—surrounded by the hum of voices, the rustling of pamphlets, and the occasional clang of a tambourine from a wildly enthusiastic music club—stood jungwon and his group, each of them absorbed in their own glossy paper map of campus club life.

the pamphlets were colorful, almost aggressively so, each one a collage of ambition and chaos. every square inch was crammed with names, taglines, and wildly optimistic descriptions. jungwon’s friends were already forming their personal paths, choices made with the kind of ease that made jungwon’s indecision feel a little louder in his own chest.

“alright, let’s split up and sign up,” sunoo declared, already folding his pamphlet like a seasoned origami artist.

“creative writers’ forum, here i come,” he added with a proud twirl, like he’d just been cast in a play.

riki, unsurprisingly, had set his eyes—and rhythm—on the grand horizon dance company. he gave a little spin for dramatic flair, earning a thumbs-up from sunoo and a head shake from jungwon.

“we get it,” sunoo deadpanned. “you’ve got moves.”

“can’t waste this talent,” riki replied, flipping imaginary hair as he walked off.

jake, meanwhile, had found unexpected excitement in the biology enthusiasts club. something about their tagline—“where science meets obsession”—spoke to the budding lab rat in him.

sunghoon stood frozen, his pamphlet flapping lazily in the breeze. “i... don’t want anything that screams ‘engineering.’ i’m traumatized already and school hasn't officially started yet.”

“so just do something chill,” jake shrugged.

and with that, sunghoon chose the chill spot: a club that promised board games, snacks, naps, and zero productivity. the dream. the sanctuary. his people.

but jungwon remained where he stood, pamphlet still unfolded in his hands like a riddle waiting to be solved. while the others peeled off one by one, he found himself flipping pages and rereading club descriptions with growing restlessness as he walked aimlessly.

he wanted something... more. something honest. something that would let his creativity breathe.

and then he heard it—a very familiar voice. a voice he would never forget.

“would you like to join our club?”

the voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to cut through the noise. jungwon glanced up, heart skipping in recognition. there, behind one of the stalls, stood someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“jay?”

he didn’t even realize his feet had started moving until he was already crossing the short distance, smiling wide, pamphlet forgotten.

the man behind the stall blinked, scanning the crowd for the voice. then, spotting jungwon, his eyes lit up. a grin cracked across his face as he stepped out from behind the table.

“bro! what are you doing here?” jay exclaimed, clasping both hands on jungwon’s shoulders like he was trying to confirm he was real.

jungwon chuckled, brushing his hands away and dapping him up. “what do you think i’m doing here? obviously pursuing higher education because my parents say it's ‘necessary’.”

“classic,” jay laughed. “same old jungwon.”

he gestured toward the stall, ushering him over like he was welcoming a guest into his home. jungwon followed, sinking into the offered chair with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“how’ve you been?” jay asked, leaning against the table. “how are sunoo and riki?”

“i'm good and sunoo and riki are actually here too,” jungwon said, lighting up. “we all got in. they’re off somewhere now, signing up to the clubs they wanna join.”

“no way,” jay said with mock disbelief. “the gang’s all here? man, time really does fly. one second we’re cramming for high school finals, the next we’re at the gates of adulthood, pretending to have it all together.”

jungwon laughed quietly, nodding. “yeah. wild.”

jay had always been like an older brother to them—cool without trying, always knowing just what to say. back in high school, he was the one they ran to when things got too loud or too confusing. even now, just seeing him eased a weight jungwon hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.

“so,” jay said, crossing his arms, “have you picked a club yet?”

jungwon hesitated. “not yet. i’ve been looking for something... art-related, maybe. i’m not really confident in my skills, but i know i have decent skills. i just don’t think it’s enough.”

jay hummed thoughtfully and, without missing a beat, took jungwon’s crumpled pamphlet right out of his hands.

“let’s find it, then,” he said, scanning the list like a detective about to crack a case. “you’ve got good instincts. we just need to find the right space to grow them.”

and in that moment, jungwon didn’t feel so lost anymore.

“how about the art & sketch society?” jay offered, handing the pamphlet back to jungwon with a confident flick of his fingers. “focuses on drawing, sketching, all that creative jazz. sounds like it’s right up your alley.”

jungwon blinked, unfolding the slightly crumpled pamphlet with renewed interest, eyes scanning the maze of club names and descriptions. “where did you even see that? how did i miss it?”

jay leaned over with the air of a man who’s done this far too many times, pointing to a modest little box near the bottom corner of the page. “right here. you need better eyesight, man.”

jungwon rolled his eyes but chuckled, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “what would i do without you?”

“probably join something tragic or something that requires anything physical like taekwondo,” jay said with mock solemnity.

jungwon snorted.

“actually,” jay added, a little more seriously, “i was gonna ask if you wanted to join our club. but, uh, figured it might not be your thing.”

he handed over a smaller, more personalized flyer—clearly homemade, slightly chaotic in design, and deeply proud of it.

jungwon read the name aloud, brow furrowed. “the... multi-maybe club?”

jay grinned. “we call ourselves the m-and-m’s. the m-m club, if you will.”

jungwon looked up, deeply confused and deeply amused. “what do you even do in a multi-maybe club?”

jay’s grin widened. “maybe everything. maybe nothing. maybe you paint a wall. maybe you'll nap under a tree. it’s a lawless land, my friend.”

jungwon burst into laughter, the kind that bent him slightly at the waist and made him cover his face for a second. jay stood back with a smile, watching fondly like an older brother watching his favorite sibling crack up at a dumb joke.

“dude,” jungwon said through the laughter, wiping at his eyes, “you just made my whole day.”

“glad to be of service,” jay replied, giving a mock bow.

as jungwon tried to catch his breath, he remembered something. “sunoo and riki need to know you’re here. they’d lose their minds. you free later?”

jay looked down at his wrist, as if checking a watch that didn’t exist. “hmm... maybe i have time.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow.

“okay, okay,” jay laughed. “i’m free. just gotta find one more person to sign up for our club, and then i can pack this whole thing up.”

he stood up straight, brushing invisible dust off his pants, and jungwon mirrored him.

“we’re all meeting at the stem fuel stop later, after everyone’s done signing up,” jungwon said, slowly backing away. “also, we met two new people—you’re gonna love them. they’re... something else.”

“perfect. i’m bringing someone too. you’ll love him,” jay replied, raising a hand in a casual wave as jungwon turned.

“see you later, m&m,” jungwon called over his shoulder with a smirk.

“go find your sketch society, art boy,” jay shot back, laughing.

with one last grin, jungwon disappeared into the crowd, pamphlet in hand, his steps a little lighter now as he searched for the art & sketch society’s stall.

you, on the other hand, were still wandering—admittedly a little lost and, at this point, thoroughly over the parade of pamphlets being thrust in your face.

upperclassmen lined the plaza like cheerful merchants at a bizarre bazaar, each one passionately marketing their clubs as if their lives depended on it. from anime appreciation societies to eco-sustainability coalitions, everyone seemed to have something to pitch. and yet, nothing called out to you.

you smiled politely, declining brochure after brochure with a soft “no, thank you,” until your feet—bored of your indecision—guided you toward a rather peculiar-looking stall.

its banner was simple yet striking: two large block letters—M M—hung above, bold and cryptic. beneath the sign, in slightly chaotic handwriting, read: the multi-maybe club.

you tilted your head. multi-maybe?

it sounded like the kind of club that didn't quite know what it wanted to be. a filler club, perhaps. the type students joined just to finish a university requirement. and yet... there was something oddly magnetic about it. as if those two bold letters were speaking directly to your soul in a silent language only lost, curious freshmen could understand.

drawn in by either fate or mild existential curiosity, you approached.

the guy behind the table was currently mid-conversation with another student, his animated gestures suggesting a practiced pitch. but then his gaze shifted and locked onto you.

“oh—hi there! are you interested in joining our club?” he greeted warmly, already reaching for a flyer. he handed it to you with both hands, like it was something sacred.

you glanced down at the handmade paper. bold scribbles, doodled stars, and a questionable amount of glitter glue outlined the text:

‘welcome to the multi-maybe club! where you can do everything... or nothing. your multiple maybes? might just happen here—or maybe not. it's your choice!’

he flashed a grin and pointed proudly at the sign above his head. “we're all about possibilities,” he said. “maximum freedom. minimal expectations.”

you looked at him, then at the sign, then back at the flyer.

“…where do i sign up?” you asked, surprising even yourself with how fast the words came out.

the guy's smile spread even wider, his eyes practically lighting up. “you just made the best maybe-decision of your life, miss..?” he declared, handing you a clipboard with a list of names. without hesitation, you wrote down your name, your major, and scribbled your signature at the bottom.

“y/n,” you said. “just call me y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeated with a nod, committing it to memory. “nice to meet you. i’m jay—vice president of the m-m club. our president’s off being a busy graduating senior, but she exists. i promise.”

you chuckled, handing back the clipboard.

jay reached under the table and pulled out a more official-looking pamphlet—actually printed, this time. “here’s our schedule, basic club info, building details. you’ll mostly find us in the lucent library next to aurora hall. the librarian kinda loves us. mostly because we either do absolutely nothing or occasionally help re-shelve books. it’s a vibe.”

you scanned the paper, trying not to laugh at how absurdly laid-back the club seemed. still, it felt oddly right.

“thanks, jay,” you said, tucking the brochure into your tote bag. “see you around.”

“yep, see you around,” he replied, giving you a small wave as you turned to leave.

as you walked away, your thoughts drifted. ‘did i really just join a filler club?’ you shook your head, a small laugh slipping from your lips as you slid the flyer into your bag, tucked just beside the brochure.

but strangely enough, you felt something warm bubble in your chest.

excitement.

not the wild, overwhelming kind—but a quiet, budding curiosity.

as soon as you managed to escape the buzz of horizon square—dodging the last wave of overly enthusiastic club recruiters—you finally spotted your friends. they were gathered on the broad stone steps leading to aurora hall, their silhouettes bathed in the golden hue of the afternoon light.

you waved both arms above your head as you jogged toward them, the crowd now thinning as students slowly trickled out of the plaza. some were heading home, others drifting into the campus cafés, tucked-away eateries, or lingering in the comfort of air-conditioned student lounges.

yunjin noticed you first. she raised a can of diet coke in the air like a sacred offering, her expression amused. you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle—she knew you too well.

you reached them with slightly breathless laughter and dropped yourself between chaewon and kazuha, letting your weight sink into the cool steps. yunjin was perched two steps above you, and with no hesitation, you leaned back so your head could rest comfortably on her thigh. she handed you the drink without a word.

“bless your soul,” you mumbled with a grateful smile as you cracked the can open and took a generous sip. the fizzy sweetness coated your tongue, and you exhaled with an exaggerated, refreshed sigh. without a second thought, you leaned back further, letting your body melt against yunjin’s warmth as she absentmindedly played with your hair.

“should we go home now?” she murmured lazily, fingers threading through your strands.

the word home struck like a silent spell.

no one answered immediately. instead, all four of you sank into an almost meditative silence. just the thought of soft pillows, cool sheets, and the sweet hum of an air conditioner was enough to temporarily sedate you all.

you each had things to prepare for tomorrow—yes, technically syllabus week, but the illusion of leisure was already wearing thin. there were class schedules to memorize, supplies to organize, nerves to settle.

after several long, deliciously quiet moments, as if perfectly choreographed, you all nodded slowly and muttered a collective, almost reverent: “yep.”

no further discussion was needed. you stood together, heavy-footed and slow-moving, like four survivors of a mild but exhausting war.

“we should head back and recharge,” you said, walking in step with them. “we’ve only got one week to mentally brace ourselves for whatever academic avalanche awaits.”

“and we find out our schedules tomorrow,” kazuha added with a groan, already opening her phone to book a ride. “can’t wait to see if fate puts me in an 7a.m. class in the first semester.”

“tell me about it.” yunjin grumbled.

chaewon simply sighed like she’d already accepted her impending doom.

you booked your own ride and the four of you migrated to the waiting shed just by the university’s gate. the air was beginning to cool as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows along the sidewalk.

your uber arrived first.

you gave each of your friends quick hugs and soft cheek kisses—half-hearted from tiredness but no less sincere.

“text us when you get home,” chaewon reminded you just as you slid one foot into the car.

you gave her a lazy thumbs-up before disappearing behind the door and letting it close with a soft thud.

the ride home was quiet. your head leaned against the window, and the city outside blurred into pastel streaks as exhaustion settled in your bones. by the time you arrived at your apartment, you barely had the energy to thank your driver.

the moment the door shut behind you, you kicked off your shoes and peeled away the layers of your day until you were down to nothing but your underwear and bra. with a long exhale, you padded barefoot across the floor and into your bedroom, phone in hand.

a few quick texts were sent—first to your group chat: ‘home safe’, then to your parents, followed by a small heart emoji. you dropped your phone onto the bed with a soft thump and made your way to your closet, grabbing a change of clothes.

the shower was bliss. warm water cascading down your skin like a gentle reset, washing away the sweat, the noise, and the weight of navigating new beginnings.

after drying your hair and pulling on fresh clothes, you collapsed onto your bed. the mattress embraced you like an old friend. the pillow welcomed your head like it had been waiting all day.

you meant to grab your phone again.

you meant to check messages, maybe scroll a little.

but your body had other plans.

within minutes, your breathing slowed, thoughts blurred, and sleep took you—soft and soundless.

meanwhile, tucked into a corner booth at the stem fuel stop, jungwon and his group were in a state of quiet suspense—well, most of them were. jake and sunghoon were entirely absorbed in their own little worlds, multitasking between snacking and scrolling through their phones, while sunoo and riki eyed jungwon like he’d grown a second head.

“won,” sunoo said, voice laced with suspicion and a bit of exasperation, “can you please tell us why we’re still here? i thought we were just gonna meet up, take a break, maybe grab some food. but you’re not even eating. you’re just… smiling at the window.”

sunoo gestured dramatically toward jungwon, who was indeed sitting there with the faintest, most serene smile on his face. every time the café door swung open, his head would subtly turn, eyes lighting up with anticipation. it was getting weird.

“just trust me,” jungwon said, practically glowing with mystery. “you’ll be surprised. and happy. very, very soon.”

sunoo narrowed his eyes but leaned back in his seat with a long sigh, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “i swear… him and his mood swings.”

riki raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward sunoo, silently mouthing, ‘what’s up with him now?’

sunoo just shrugged, the universal response for ‘no clue, don’t ask me.’

riki glanced at the clock. “he sure is taking his sweet time,” he muttered under his breath, peering down at his phone, clearly considering whether this whole setup was worth the wait.sunoo shot him a look that said ‘tell me about it’, when—

“i see you two are still as impatient as ever.”

a familiar voice, smooth and teasing, landed behind them, a head popping from behind them and a hand gently pressed down on both their shoulders, startling the two boys upright.

they twisted in their seats, eyes wide.

“jay?!” they both gasped in unison, voices laced with disbelief, joy, and the slightest touch of betrayal—how dare he sneak up on them like that?

sunoo shot up from his seat and threw his arms around jay’s neck like he was making up for lost time. riki was still half in shock, but his body moved on instinct, arms wrapping tightly around jay’s waist.

“woah—hey—okay, this is happening,” jay laughed, slightly thrown off balance by the ambush hug, his arms eventually resting around both their heads, gently ruffling their hair like he used to.

jungwon, still seated and watching the scene unfold, burst into a quiet laugh. there was something so warm, so stupidly precious, about seeing his friends melt like kids at a surprise reunion.

“did you guys miss me that much?” jay teased, smiling as he tried to wiggle free from their emotional death grip.

sunoo and riki both nodded emphatically, faces buried in opposite ends of jay’s shoulder and torso.

jay chuckled, “you do realize it’s only been two years, right? not a whole lifetime.”

sunoo and riki pulled back just far enough to glare up at him, eyes narrowed.

“that is a lifetime,” they chorused indignantly, as if he’d just said something blasphemous.

jay held up his hands in surrender, laughing again. “okay, okay. two years is forever. my bad.”

he patted their heads again, endearingly like an older brother humoring two very dramatic younger siblings. “now, can i sit? or do i need to earn that too?”

sunoo finally slid back into his seat with an exaggerated sigh, while riki made room on the other side. jay sat between them, comfortably wedged in the heart of the group once again—like he’d never left.

“umm, guys?” jake’s voice sliced gently through the warmth of the reunion. it was the kind of voice people used when they were trying not to intrude but also couldn’t ignore the rising curiosity bubbling inside them. his hand hovered mid-air like a student with a question—half-hopeful, half-hesitant.

he and sunghoon had been sitting quietly, mere spectators to the emotional reunion unfolding in front of them. they didn’t want to interrupt something that was clearly meaningful, but the urge to be part of it was beginning to hum louder deep inside them.

besides, judging by the way riki and sunoo lit up at the sight of jay, this wasn’t just a casual catch-up—this was the friend reunion. and they wanted in.

“are you gonna introduce us,” jake said, tilting his head, “or should we just keep watching from the audience section?”

jay chuckled, the sound low and familiar, like laughter shared in hallways and cafeterias. he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry, sorry. name’s jay. i’ve been friends with these three since high school. i’m a third year here at grand horizon—marketing major, occasional chaos enabler.”

he reached out to shake their hands.

“jake,” the boy said with a bright smile, “biology major. aspiring mad scientist.”

“sunghoon,” the other said smoothly. “engineering. part-time realist, full-time eye-roller.”

jay grinned as he shook both their hands. “i like this group already.”

“how’d you all meet, anyway?” he asked, looking around as he settled into the seat like he belonged there.

sunoo, ever ready to explain, perked up. “sunghoon’s my dorm mate, jake’s with riki, and we kinda just... adopted jungwon last month. it was very wholesome.”

“like a stray cat,” jake added helpfully.

jungwon made a face. “i’m right here, you know.”

“we know,” riki said, patting his head.

jay laughed, then, without missing a beat, leaned over and stole a fry from jake’s plate with the grace of someone who had clearly done this before.

“did you just—?”

“i did,” jay confirmed mid-chew, grinning. “anyway, it’s great to meet you guys. you’re gonna love it here, i promise. oh—and i’ve got a friend coming. he should be here any minute.”

as if on cue, the bell above the café door gave a soft chime, announcing the arrival of someone new.

and then—he walked in.

a young man with striking red hair, not the playful kind, but the bold, unapologetic shade of red that demanded attention the moment he entered a room. his presence was immediate—subtle, but undeniable.

he wore a black tank top tucked effortlessly into dark gray, high-waisted trousers tailored to perfection. they cinched his waist and flowed down with structured elegance, every step a study in confidence. layered loosely over his frame was a glossy black leather button-up long sleeve shirt, worn open, the material catching the light with each movement like a ripple of shadow.

a thin, silver chain with a cross pendant rested against his collarbone, glinting faintly. tiny silver hoops adorned his ears, understated yet intentional. and slung diagonally across his torso was a sleek black crossbody bag, the strap sitting snug over his chest, completing the look with quiet precision.

he didn’t look around frantically. instead, his eyes swept the café with the calm disinterest of someone who had no need to search—only to be found.

he looked cool—effortlessly so. intimidating, even. the kind of person who didn’t need to try hard to stand out. he just did.

all five of them froze, except for jay. the kind of freeze that wasn’t fear, but awe. they weren’t sure whether to hope this was jay’s friend or pray it wasn’t—because if it was, they were suddenly not sure they were dressed well enough for this sudden meet up.

jay raised his arm and called out with a wide smile. “yo! heeseung, over here!”

the red-haired man—heeseung—glanced over. a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, quiet but genuine. and then he moved, heading toward them with long, unhurried strides, each step measured and magnetic.

“wait... that’s his friend?” sunoo whispered, eyes wide.

riki nodded slowly, voice distant. “he looks like a runway model who just woke up and decided to casually destroy everyone’s self-esteem.”

“and somehow he looks even taller in person,” jungwon muttered, blinking.

“i'm probably taller,” riki tried saving his self-esteem even though he wasn't sure if it was actually working.

jay was already stylish—sharp jawline, good taste, an air of familiarity. but heeseung? he walked in like a scene from a movie. red hair, glowing skin, dressed like a secret. he didn’t blend in. he redefined the space around him.

even jungwon, who had his own soft kind of charm with tousled blonde hair and a boyish smile, felt like a background character.

heeseung approached the table with the quiet composure of someone used to eyes following him—unbothered, but never arrogant. like the world always adjusted itself slightly to make room for him.

he walked past everyone at the table, his pace unhurried, presence effortlessly commanding. but instead of acknowledging the wide-eyed stares or curious glances sent his way, he went straight to jay, greeting him with a casual dap that spoke of years of shared moments and easy trust.

after the brief gesture, heeseung’s gaze swept across the table, his lips tugging into a soft, almost bashful smile. it was surprising, really—how someone who looked like a living editorial spread from a fashion magazine could also look so... shy.

he leaned closer to jay, his voice low. “umm, do i have to introduce myself first?”

a second ago, he had seemed untouchable—cool, collected, almost intimidating. now, he resembled a new kid in class, unsure where to begin.

jay chuckled, amused by the contrast, and gave heeseung a light pat on the back. “just sit down and start talking,” he whispered, then gently nudged him toward the only empty chair—right beside jungwon. heeseung blinked, then allowed himself to be pushed down into the seat like a confused but obedient hamster.

“oh, okay,” he muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat and addressed the table. “hi, umm... i’m heeseung. a friend of jay’s. third year. music composition major. we’ve also been in the same club since first year.” he nodded once, firmly, as if that sealed the deal on his introduction.

there was a beat of silence before everyone else began introducing themselves, one after the other.

first came jungwon, polite and reserved. then sunoo, bright and curious. riki chimed in with a charming smile, followed by jake, who had the enthusiasm of a golden retriever discovering a new friend. sunghoon went last, cool and composed, giving a small nod as if he were in a press conference.

the energy was a little awkward, but thankfully, everyone seemed willing to push past that initial stiffness. questions began to float into the air, light and genuine.

riki leaned forward first, his tone friendly. “so, how’d you and jay meet?”

heeseung let out a short laugh, the memory lighting up his face. “we met on the first day of uni, actually. both of us were at horizon square, just wandering around trying to figure out what club to join. then we ended up standing in front of this one weird stall that had two massive m’s on the sign. the multi-maybe club. weird name, right?”

the group chuckled.

“anyway, jay started talking to me out of nowhere—just asking random things like what my major was, what music i liked, what my blood type was. totally normal stuff.” heeseung grinned. “we didn’t know anyone at the time, so it was honestly nice he didn’t just leave after signing up. after that, we kept in touch. we’d study in the library together, eat lunch during breaks... even though we’re in different majors, he kind of just stuck around. and yeah, he’s basically the only real friend i’ve had here.”

jay, listening with an increasingly dramatic expression, slowly placed both hands over his heart like a victorian lady hearing a love confession.

“awww,” jay gasped. “i’m your only real friend?”

he reached out theatrically for heeseung’s hand, his eyes brimming with fake tears.

without even blinking, heeseung rolled his eyes and yanked his hand away—then flipped jay off with a casual flick of his middle finger.

the entire table erupted into laughter.

“well,” heeseung added with a playful smirk, “i’m actually hoping to change that by meeting all of you.”

jay clutched his chest as if he'd been shot. “and just like that, replaced. i should’ve let you eat alone.”

more laughter followed, the kind that comes when tension melts away and something genuine settles in its place. the group was still new to each other, but it no longer felt like strangers trying too hard. it felt like the beginning of something that might just be real.

the conversation continued to flow—light, casual, but slowly unraveling layers. they asked about each other's lives, traded stories of high school mischief, swapped sports preferences, and shared scattered facts with the kind of curiosity only new friendships carry. it was a soft chaos of voices, laughter, and the occasional gasp at unexpected confessions.

then, as if sensing a lull in the momentum, jay leaned forward and tilted his head toward jungwon.

“so,” he said with a glint in his eye, “anything new with you, jungwon?”

jungwon blinked, caught off guard. his mouth opened slightly, ready to reply—but sunoo beat him to it with a mischievous grin.

“he has a girl problem right now,” sunoo said in a sing-song tone, and jay’s expression lit up like a proud older brother watching his kid finally enter the dating world.

“what? finally?” jay laughed, eyebrows raised in delight.

jungwon’s ears turned an unmistakable shade of pink, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he let out an awkward chuckle. “it’s not a problem, she’s not a problem,” he said, shaking his head, clearly hoping to steer the topic elsewhere—anywhere, really.

but riki leaned in dramatically, eyes wide with faux shock. “ohhh, he’s defending her now? this is new.”

sunoo, never one to let a moment slip, immediately mimicked jungwon’s earlier voice. “she’s not a problem,” he repeated with exaggerated sincerity, clasping his hands to his chest like he was quoting poetry.

jay looked amused, borderline delighted, as he leaned closer. “okay, now i have to know. what happened?”

heeseung, who had been quietly sipping his drink and observing, now perked up as well. his eyes, already large, seemed to double in size, gleaming with pure curiosity. “i’m curious too.”

jungwon groaned, realizing escape was futile. “nothing happened,” he muttered. “let’s just say... i’m trying to avoid her. that’s it. end of story.”

he looked around the table, firm and resolute, like a man putting up caution tape around his heart.

everyone exchanged glances but decided—for now—to let it go. jay, however, had other plans.

with the stealth of someone used to scheming, he leaned toward sunoo and gave the slightest nod. sunoo caught it instantly.

sunoo sighed, already resigning himself to being the group's designated informant. jay then flicked his gaze toward heeseung and gave a small head gesture toward sunoo. heeseung, catching on, turned to sunoo as well. sunoo nodded once, a solemn confirmation.

a pact had been made. they were going to sunoo and sunghoon’s dorm later. mission: dig up all the tea.

it might’ve been a spontaneous plan, but in their group, that was more than enough. jay and heeseung were already honorary members. the invitation was unspoken but entirely valid. all they had to do was wait for jungwon to finally go home.

as if on cue, the topic changed, drifting into safer territory—about the orientation and tour earlier and old campus drama when jay and heeseung were first and second year. the sky outside had deepened into shades of evening, and before long, it was time to go.

the group slowly rose from their seats, gathering their things, still chatting as they made their way out of the café. they lingered at the front gate of the university, waiting under a waiting shed for their ubers to arrive.

jungwon’s car was the first to pull up.

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said casually, waving as he climbed into the vehicle.

“bye!” the group chorused.

“message us when you get home,” sunoo followed up as jungwon hops inside the car.

but the second the car door shut and his ride rolled away down the street, the rest of them turned toward each other with the same look.

it was time.

no one needed to say it. it was understood. they were going to sunoo and sunghoon’s dorm, and tonight, they would unearth the full story behind jungwon’s ‘she’s not a problem’ girl.

jake and riki, a bit late to realize what was happening, exchanged glances.

“wait—are we going too?” jake asked.

“you are now,” sunoo said, already walking ahead.

riki shrugged. “well, i do know the whole story…”

“perfect,” jay grinned. “you’re coming. we need to know every detail.”

and with that, the group disappeared into the night, drawn together not just by friendship, but by the irresistible pull of juicy gossip waiting to be spilled behind dorm room walls.

taglist⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀ @morganaawriterr @wondoras @mypolka @meowwwon @dolliehue @in-somnias-world @yjwonsgf @kirijuns @iifrui @momisanalien @vieniee @drunkjazed @hhyvsstuff @readinmidnight @noona-neomu-yeppeo @cutehoons02 @robotinvenus @starfallia @nijisanjigenshin @kkamismom12 @kinamurariki @soobundle1009 @supershy3 @nodoubtily @vrikisn @jayjw16enxp @skzfangirl143 @0leelina0 @noriiluv @o2whre @nocturnebite @userprdx (taglist is still open, comment to be added.) final notes⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀i hope you guys enjoyed! part five will probably be posted on saturday or sunday! see you guys then!

©⠀mæwphoria⠀|⠀all works belong to me. strictly do not plagiarize, copy, translate, paraphrase, rewrite or repost my works on any other platforms. if it's inspiration gained from my work then it's appreciated and i wish you good luck with your own stories. thank you.

⠀

[whytheylosttheirminds]

some news, with love

a little over a year ago, I was really lost and lonely, and hadn't felt creative in years. I started this blog and published my first rafe fic and to my absolute shock and delight - people liked it. that outlet and community means more to me than I can express.

part of this journey has been me realizing that writing is more than a hobby and I want to make a real honest go at it. I've enrolled in classes and I'm going back to school to study English, eager to learn everything I can and keep getting better and growing. am I good enough/lucky enough to ever get published for real? maybe not! but if I don't try, I'll never know. I decided to start by taking what I have of DCMK and reworking it (like a full overhaul) into an original novel, with original characters and stripping any obx references until it's just me and my lil characters left. If I ever do get published, you best believe that book will be dedicated to all 5k of you and anyone on here who ever made me feel like this lifelong dream could someday be a reality. thank you for reading along with me and showing support, it means literally everything to me <3

I recently hit 5k followers, a milestone that I honestly never thought I'd get to. when I realized I'd made it I felt so grateful, but I also felt something else- a quiet, sure voice in the back of my mind saying, "it's time to go."

with nothing but love and gratitude, I've decided to deactivate my blog and take my stories with me. as I've tried to continue writing my story, I realized that if I want to make my it into something that could become a novel, I can't keep writing it as a fanfic. don't get me wrong, I love fanfic so much and think so highly of it as an art form, I just want to do something different. It's scary to go do it on my own with no constant feedback, but I think I need to close myself in a room and go it alone if I want to ever really finish it.

so, this is what's best for me. I'm nervous and excited. I'm so sorry if you've grown attached to my works and are saddened by this, just please know I love you and I will carry you with me for the rest of my life (not hyperbole). DCMK, June Gloom, and Home for the Holidays will remain on AO3 for a little while. here is the link to that account.

after a little while, I'll be deleting DCMK from AO3 as well so I can pretty much completely start fresh on it. I will probably leave the others up but who knows!

I'm going to stick around for a day or two to say goodbye to my beautiful moots and say thank you thank you thank you into the void a few more times.

I love you all, I carry you with me, I'll miss you all the time.

as Taylor said, "you know, in your bones, when it's time to go." It's just my time.

I love you.

Thank you.

<3 Nat

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Usually I have an observation or snark to share, however this time Meghan left me with a huge sense of silence. What else do we have to write about her. If she ends As Ever this is it. There's no come back, this brand was her last tangible effort and it failed. Her Instagram brand failed, her time as a working royal was a resounding failure, she got no acting prospects, no directing prospects, her endeavor as a magazine editor failed. I feel like we don't have anything new to talk about her. It's over. Even Fergie had a new "talent" to give and worked as a real philanthropist. What is lower than the Fergie zone?

What's lower than Fergie? Competition reality TV. Think Dancing with the Stars, I'm a Celeb Get Me Out of Here, The Traitors, Big Brother, etc.

And you are right - there really isn't anything new to say, snark, or watch, other than to keep remarking how far Meghan has fallen from the height of her 2017 PR. I do find myself bored with some of this, mainly because I have no interest in rehashing the same things over and over, the same asks over and over, giving the same commentary over and over.

But at the same time, it's been 9 years and Meghan still hasn't hit rock bottom in terms of failure. Why I stick around is because she's a really bad liar and it's fun watching her tell on herself (aka confirming most of the rumors and conspiracy theories herself) because she's so obsessed with

a game no one else is playing.

[fordtato]

whats your process for writing scripts? specifically the ones with the giant corkboards. im trying to write a video essay myself, and im not sure how to go about it

Good question! It really changes from video to video. but typically, it begins broad and then gets narrowed down to little details.

I open a google doc and put the vague concept for the video up top. From there i outline out the things i want to cover, listing out the more narrow concepts, like an outline, and then fill out the spaces under them whenever i think of something. Like, I might think of a line or a joke or a detail and then open the doc and put it under the right heading.

This means that the video is almost never written in order, it's written at the whims of whatever i happen to be thinking about on a given day, or whatever detail I uncover accidentally in my research that I realize NEEDS to be added or placed in a specific section.

Somewhere during this process, i'm thinking about props and set design, and so i add color-coded notes to the script in appropriate places, usually purple notes for something i put on the screen in my edit, and orange or blue for a physical item I hold up when I say a specific line.

At this point, the framing device starts to form. In this instance, it would be a corkboard. So I go through the script, one thing at a time, and add a color-coded line next to each spoken line indicating what needs to be added to the corkboard. I also might have a separate doc or a canva file where I plan out everything I need on the corkboard in the end, so I could then distribute those elements through the script.

The thing is, though, I don't do any of this in the order listed above specifically. Everything is being done at once, from researching to writing to planning out makeup and costumes to planning out the corkboard. But it averages out to at least an hour or two every day, split up throughout the day.

An additional tip I have is to also have a notepad on your phone, SEPARATE from your google doc, to write down jokes or lines or ideas if you think of them away from your computer. Do NOT read through your script before you do it, just add the idea to the phone notepad, and then leave it there for a while. And once every few days, go through the notepad and decide which ideas should be added to the doc and where, and then empty the notepad out. Sometimes when you are staring at a single document, you end up getting stale, or only thinking of ideas related to the stuff in the doc. so having a separate space to just stick stuff helps me ensure I'm adding new ideas and details that might be more out of left field.

I also recommend talking to friends about your ideas in a phonecall or discord call, out loud, regularly. When you explain stuff to people, your brain is able to think of shortcuts in efficiently delivering information. It is easy, when you sit down and write a massive video, to accidentally write 3 paragraphs where 1 would be fine, because we don't write the way we speak out loud. In verbal conversation, we are more direct (usually, in my experience, at least). You also will likely come up with jokes when talking to your friends, because you are relaxed and just chatting about something you enjoy, and that is where the gold is. You want to write those jokes down immediately in your little phone notepad. Trust me, it is easier to come up with video jokes when chatting with friends than it is when you are staring at a script begging yourself to be funny or witty.

Hope this helps, and good luck!

[lucabyte]

Psst. What's your process for Comics? I would like to Know (Because your ISAT comics make me a little bit feral and I would like to learn)

Okay so the cop out answer is: i basically wing it every time since im very very new to making comics and my method is still evolving. but that's not helpful and i like to yap so ill talk through My Method anyway

So first of all: Ideas.

All my ISAT shit is like. extremely dialogue heavy & mostly focused on the same like. 3 topics and philosophical concepts over and over lbr. So mostly when it comes to drafting that I'll just let my brain bash the dolls together until i notice either 1. a fucking banger line (this usually becomes a punchline i then work backwards from when writing it out) or 2. that i keep coming back to the same like 'scene' in my mind.

(I'd love to know. how to make this work for like. OCs??? But I haven't quite cracked that one yet sorry)

For the former though what usually happens there is I write things out on my phone (this happened with the bonnie-centric ones a lot?) or i'll leave a voice note for myself. Or, if i'm at my computer it goes straight into notepad, which is where everything goes before i draw it.

so these are just like. Disgustingly strewn about on my desktop. But this is how i type up the comic scripts, which I do before i put the dialogue in csp because csp's text tool sucks ass, but you can see how these end up having Some Semblance of the final formatting? Some more than others. But they don't have much consistency in how i'm tagging the dialogue LOL. (bonus: one of these i never ended up making. because i come back to the same wells SO FREQUENTLY that it gets embarrasing to retread sometimes) Then I just... screenshot the notepad file and paste it into a csp window LOL.

So I've pulled up three comics just because theyre like, recent ones? (Links to all 3 -> x, x, x) And oh yeah immediately they're rather inconsistent. But this is the level of detail i do in my thumbnails. (Hello Golf Ball Loop) MOST of my long ass comics look like the first one though, and all of them follow the same thought process.

I will take the dialogue, and then just draw a panel that i think works with it. Then move onto the next line, and the next. Basically thinking mostly in speech bubble placement rather than anything? But I'll just keep... going downwards until it is done. You can see the speech bubbles tend to include either nothing or the vaguest indicator of what's inside them.

(The third one here is an outlier because iirc I actually had this very visual idea while drawing something else and went to go quickly draw it out so the text actually went right into CSP bc there was so little of it. But it was still panelled really sequentially for what action I know I wanted in each panel.)

Overall this is probably because of my habits from learning animation? I thumbnail as if im storyboarding, if that makes any sense. Or is any different to how people usually do it, anyway.

My friends who actually read comic books have told me off already for my vile leaning-tower-of-pisa bullshit formatting. I understand their criticisms because genuinely what the fuck am I doing half of the time? I like it though lol. It's a reflection of how stream-of-conciousness my workflow tends to be, but fuck if it means the aspect ratios aren't the wooooorst LOLL

Then i resize the thumbnails to be roughly 1920px wide, aspect ratio be damned. And at this point I usually also have to draw a big grid so that i can align the comic and make it not on a weird tilt. The most thought that goes in here is that I try to avoid making panels too samey in layout from line to line, and try to keep vaguely to making panels the same-ish height but a width of the page either in halves or thirds. Making it so they aren't completely inconsistent sizes does a lot for making things not look too sloppy.

My first sketch over the thumbnail usually is neat enough to be The Final Lines because I'm impatient. EXCEPT when i realise its going to get Fucking Complicated at which point i pull out the CSP models and my beloved cubes. Then i take a billion years to pose a consistent scene (and often realise where I need to cheat angles. Like for loop reaching down to sif's face. That doesn't make sense in 3d space so I had to cheat). This is basically par for the course whenever I want to do a scene where there's Any consistency in character positioning and they aren't just Talking Heads.

THEN. After the sketch (which was done with speech bubble placements in mind back at the thumbnail stage) I will finally put in the speech bubbles. This usually means re-sketching them, then putting the text down and doing all the typesetting (VCR mono looks very ugly in CSP a lot of the time so I fuck with the spacing of individual letters a lot) and THEN redrawing the speech bubbles around them properly.

Sometimes I'll fuck myself over here and have to move stuff but ideally, if I weren't working like some kind of fucking barbarian, I'd do the speech bubbles before finalising the lineart. But I don't on account of going straight from thumbnail to final lines. You'd do this during the sketch stage if you were normal.

then it's finally panel border time. And then when I get to this stage I just make like. another few new layers above everything but the text where i just clean up. Everything that I had neglected while drawing. So any extra white lines or places where i just think things look bad and i want to redraw them entirely. I will also sometimes literally make a flattened copy of an entire panel to just move it around slightly. It's a deeply evil part of the workflow and i apologise for it. But also it's the major benefit to drawing in straight black-and-white with no tones. It means i can just overdraw anything that is unclear in the end.

(and reposting again Links to all 3 -> x, x, x for easy comparison if u want it)

ANYWAY for further reading. I know I've already stated these before somewhere on my blog but for ease of access... The major inspirations for how my comics Look are as follows:

1. tumblr user Floralmarsupial's homestuck comics found [HERE]. She did a LOT of straight up black and white comics that are ingrained deep in my brain at this point. These are always in the back of my head.

2. Leo Fox [LINK] regularly gets really strange and esoteric with overlapping panels and unorthodox layout. I stared at these a lot when i was starting to make the first couple ISAT comics even if i'm not going nearly as abstract as him

3. tumblr user the-hydroxian-artblog's comic Hangin' Out [LINK] has GORGEOUS typesetting and their art in general uses a lot of speech bubbles that convey some really funny shit by just resizing the text in funny ways. Gold standard for emotive typesetting and also their lin weight and b/w illustrations are gorgeous.

4. sonic the hedgehog idw keeps me humble and reminds me to make the speech bubbles fucking SMALLER. if im left to my own devices i make speech bubbles and fonts WAY too big so reading a cleanly formatted professional comic book for children reminds me what i should be aiming for in legibility.

anyway hope this helps? the answer really is "fuck it we ball" tho

[smoltimidturtle]

Time for part 2!!!! Also another warning for spoilers of OW!

Day 16: If you went to wonderland, what would your wish be? Do you think you'd eventually be corrupted?

To know what it feels like to be loved....or to know what it feels like to be wanted/needed and not always an after thought/forgotten about.

Yeeeeah, I could definitely see myself getting corrupted by Wonderland.

Day 17: Have you ever created any OW characters in another game?

Not yet....but if I get back into games like Stardew Valley or Terraria it might give me enough of a reason to create one of them!

Day 18: Do you have a favourite OW ship?

GENZOU/IGGY ALL THE WAY BABBBBY!!!!!!

(also Iggy/Orlam!)

Day 19: Has OW, or its characters, made any kind of positive impact on your life?

It's for sure has made me rethink my past friendships and mistakes, and want to rectifie them in some way. Also made me want to reach out to my more recent friends and apologise them. But have to get over my social anxiety for that 🥲

Day 20: Draw a silly doodle!

(I can't draw for shit!)

Day 21: If you were to write a fanfic, what would you most like to write?

I may, or may not, already have some in the works (but I've got to finish all my other fics first!) But I'm thinking of sick fics or hurt/comfort ones!

Day 22: Have you had any dreams based on OW?

Potentially....and I'm not telling!

Day 23: What is your favourite scene in the entire game?

I'm just going to name one for each arc, because there's so many good ones!

Arc 1: The end scene with Buck. It really sets the tone for the rest of the game!

Arc 2: Genzou and Iggy comforting each other after fighting Gidget!

Arc 3: The scene in Orlam's apartment.

Arc 4: The dance scene!

Arc 5 (I'm going to cheat here a list more than one!): The scene between Orlam and Genzou in the castle, the slowdance between Iggy and Orlam, the entirety of Iggy/Genzou's route, the final wish scene, and telling Bucks to come home!

Day 24: If you could ad a new CG anywhere in the game, where would you add it?

End of neutral route, all of them (now as adults) recreating the prom photo. That or Bucks pulling them all into a big hug!

Day 25: Are there any parts in the game you don't like to replay?

Any of the SA scenes.....

Day 26: It's Iggy's Birthday!!

If he's ok with it then I'd give him a hug. And that's it's ok to still be figuring stuff out well into your 30's! (Still doing that myself!) And also wish him a fantastic Birthday!

Day 27: Is there a song you associate with OW?

I've made an entire playlist for this exact reason!

Day 28: If you could add a new arc, what so you think would be the most interesting?

Would love to see more of Bucks, as we didn't get to see much of her. Maybe see more of the struggle's she had to face becoming a mother, and the dreams she had to sacrifice.

Day 29: Is there anything about OW or it's characters you're still curious/wander about?

Probably Hunar as we never really got to know him, other than the bbq scene, the initial call at the beginning of each arc, and of course the scene with him at the beginning of Arc 5. Would love to see more of his relationship with the friend group, and with Bucks herself!

Day 30: Create something OW related!

Does cosplay count...? Because that's another thing I did.

And now for the 2nd part of my anniversary celebration... 30 Days of Our Wonderland! A set of silly and/or thought-provoking prompts about the game and chars for a full month of OW!

I'll be answering them each day. Feel free to join in if you want to! Either creating your own posts or reblogging this one, etc. I'll be using the hashtag #30DaysofOW for all of my answers.

[damneddamsy]

hello! 🌼 Interrupting your regular schedule of doomscrolling (no hate, I deeply relate) at Harry-Castillo-yearning-o'clock to say a humongous thank you to everyone who supported Falling. We did it, smooches to everyone!

To the sweethearts in my taglist (whaaaaat the fuck?), those who saw the little notification pop up and liked the chapters every time (yes, I see you, I know who you are, you are getting all the virtual love 👀), to the silent readers who stayed with the story, to the bold commenters, the sweet ones who asked to be tagged along, the emoji and GIF maniacs, and brilliant theorists—gosh, you have made this experience unforgettable. Thank you so much for the love, truly.

There's just a biiiiit more under the cut, if you'd like to read on and have a little patience left 🤍

Now I've read every single comment and reblog on the last chapter, every kind word, and all your clever little deep dives into the story. Your encouragement and joy gave me life—and I just had to take a moment to say this to all of you, all at once.

When I started writing Leela and Maya—mother and daughter, two women of colour—I didn’t expect them to get much traction in this big, vast TLOU Joel Miller community. I thought this would be a small story of apocalyptic truths and life, for a little circle of friends, that might eventually and quietly fade into the Tumblr void. Maybe it would, we'll see?

The truth is, stories centring POC characters often do fade. They slip through the fault lines—under-read, under-recommended, and often untagged in reblogs. There is this subtle, collective bias in fandom and fiction spaces where stories about white characters, or even reader inserts, get all the fan art, the essays, the viral posts, while POC characters—especially sweet ones who aren’t just sidekicks or plot devices—have to fight, reblog themselves, and add tags ten times in ten different ways just to be seen, let alone loved.

I braced myself for that. I prepared to write this story for the handful of people who might relate, or who care enough to look beyond the algorithm's usual preferences. That's the way the internet spins, so whatever. I told myself it was okay if Leela and Maya’s story went unnoticed—because I needed to write it for me. I just needed to release a bit of pent-up stress onto paper. But it didn’t go unnoticed.

You noticed. You showed up. You cared.

You let these two brown girls be complex, soft, messy, powerful, tender. You let them exist. And for someone like me, who grew up starving for this kind of representation, that means more than I can say.

Now, for me, this is big. I don't care if it doesn't meet the quota of 'big' on this hellsite. And I wouldn't have made it this far without you. I really mean it—I might've stopped halfway through if not for the love and patience you showed.

So here's to readers who show up for POC reader inserts and characters, for soft stories, for complex emotions, fawning love, the sunniest daddy-daughter moments, the sexy hoo-haa smut, and for slow burns that take their time. Your support matters. You made Leela and Maya feel seen—and by extension, so did I.

Thank you, thank you. Not a million more would suffice. I am going to continue to write more POC stories, as much as I can, even if it meets the deep end of the Joel Miller tag chasms.

If you've read this far, you're a real one. I appreciate you. Let's fucking go, people—I still have got lots to do!

[mishtiikrishna]

play 20 questions with me!

except it's one sided and all about ✨me✨

1. hii! what do i call u?

call me mish (as my dear companion @foursixtwonineoh-pizzas-of-lego (evie 😘)) does or mishti.

2. how did u chance upon here and what do u do here everyday?

i came here for #drarry and #tomarry and #merthur fics and arts (they're so out of this world, man) stayed here for the people and my lovely moots and shitposts. left one time to focus on my studies and now i'm back. permanently. hopefully. everyday, i come here for shits and giggles and to interact with the lovely (bi/gay, i don't think none of my friends over here is straight) friends. lol

3. you mentioned #drarry. what fandoms are u in/interested in/know?

1. harry potter (have to admit that I've only seen the movies twice and read only POA and majorly fanfictions. u have no idea omg)

2. heartstopper (i've read the webtoon AND s1 in netflix s1, haven't got the time for the later seasons tbh)

3. sherlock holmes and adj (books and robert downey movies and bbc sherlock)

4. DC (some comics and some warner bros movies am not in deep as some of my dear friends 😭)

5. marvel (..through fanfictions and song edits ONLY)

6. bbc merlin (couldn't finish the whole show, but i do know the ending 😭)

7. mahabharat starplus (haven't seen the whole show but know and love enough)

8. anne with an e

4. fanfictions, you read. do you write in general?

yes! i do! they're all under this tag -> #mishti writes. hoping to write and update on here more, honestly. i write about a lot of stuff mostly independent but not on the level of writing fanfictions yet. i feel pity for myself tbh

5. what're your other creative outlets?

i sing, i can do digital calligraphy and art (not really good at the latter) and painting/colouring! i hope to start this journey too here actually.

6. do you read and write and all only in english? what're some other languages u know?

i enjoy reading and writing creative stuff in english only right now. i can write in hindi too if i tried really hard. i also know malayalam, tamil, kannada, sanskrit, french (duolingo lmao), html, markdown and python.

7. u know python? which level?

i learnt it for school for 2 years (years 11 & 12). i have created a wordle clone that works on NYTimes' wordle logic except pastel colouring and it works offline. planning to make it bigger, actually.

8. computer nerd huh? anyway how do i become friends with u if i want to?

wouldn't call myself a nerd lol. there's nothing much to do if u want to become friend tbh. the ask box is above this post and start a conversation with me, we'll take it from there ♥️

9. do u have any checklist for being ur friend that I should fulfill?

yes, actually. u must be:

[ ] happy talking to me

[ ] ready to tell when i'm doing something wrong

[ ] ready not to force me to do anything

[ ] ready for my countless apologies at any given time (yes i'm serious)

that's all, i think. i don't mind anyone here as long u check these out!

10. what's ur stance on the LGBTQIA+ community?

since almost all my friends here are either bi or gay or on the spectrum here, i really don't mind them. i support the community as long as i don't get hurt. i think i'm aroace myself but i really dunno, i must admit.

11. u keep reiterating 'friends'. may i ask who ur friends are on here? or would that be personal?

i don't mind u asking about my friends. in fact, i've made a friend list, here.

12. time for misc questions!! what's ur favourite thing to do in the rain?

it's been raining for a good few days at the time of writing this post, and my favourite thing to do is lie on my bed on scroll thru..Tumblr. embarassing i know. but that's what i have discovered as of now. but i know that'll change in like 3 days max 😭 i think it'll be sitting at my desk, the one in front of the window, listening to the rain and either sketching or ✨writing✨

13. what about drinks? hot drinks or cold drinks in autumn?

cold drinks throughout the year. even in winters yes. i have cold water everyday 😂

14. would you prefer looking after a toddler or a teenager for a week?

after having a sister, i would pick the baby. they can't talk back or be rude to me or anyone really. and no feelings will be hurt, so no fights 😍

15. cat or a dog person?

neither, i'm so sorry. i am allergic to both, i believe.

16. u mentioned u were a computer nerd before. what're some craziest things u've done related to it?

ok. so i have done quite a few things (you may choose to believe it or not, i don't mind either way!) which i used to think and still think is not that impressive:

jailbroke an iPhone 3g at the age of 12; exorcised macos x lion from a polycarbonate 2009 macbook and proceeded to install 15-20 linux distros at the ages of 14-15 (no arch linux, i just read the documentation and gave up); illegally (maybe) installed and ran windows 11 on a device that shouldn't have ran it from one sketchy youtube tutorial at 15; built wordle (mentioned above) from scratch with python and tkinter in 2 days (that's it lol)

17. how does ur music taste look like?

mainly electropop with epic instrumentals and the occasional sanskrit verse. i suppose.

18. what're ur likes and dislikes?

likes: computer, tech, math, chemistry, some parts of physics, cold stuff, digital stuff, art, fanfics, writing, pastel colours, rain, gold jewellery, fancy af hairstyles, cooking, pens (pentel 🩵), pencils, any sorta stationery, my sister and my family

dislikes: anon asks for help (not in a position, i'm sorry!), hot (as in temperature) stuff, wearing glasses (have been a glass wearer for the 11th year now), chores (to an extent 😂), and romance (i just don't understand it..doesn't matter if it's wlw or mlm or straight or whatever)

19. what're some numbers u love? do u believe in lucky numbers?

i love the number 7 for some reason. also 19th cuz 19th may is my birthday. and 2 and 5, idk why.

20. ask me in the reblogs if u've reached till here! u're obligated to, at this point lol.

[taylorklosscomeout138]

Can someone please tell me why when when The Alcott said "I tell you that I think I'm falling back in love with you" every single swiftie understood that it was about coming back to a muse that the narrator had a lot of history with and spent time apart from....

But yet when The Alchemy said "What if I told you I'm back? I haven't come around in so long, but I'm making a comeback to where I belong. What if I told you we're cool? You're forgiven under my rule. The sign on your heart is still reserved for me." Which is very painfully clearly about the exact same thing of returning back to a past Lpver that you had split from so much that it repeats that theme of coming back to an old flame.... suddenly Swifties don't understand anymore?????

4 words. I . don't . buy . it .

Mind you The Alcott released a little after Midnights. And that entire above theme of reconciling a past relationship because they were The 1 is exactly what Taylor said in Labyrinth when she wrote "I'm falling in love again, how'd you turn it right around?" And Glitch "our love is blacking out, but 5 seconds later I'm fastening myself to you" AND The Great War "I really thought I lost you, but we survived The Great War" which not only made it clear The Alcott was about the same relationship as those 3 songs but that Taylor did in fact have a muse in the past that she was for a long time broke up with but ultimately got back together with. And she does not regard this muse as a thing of the past, she regards them as her present love.

The Alchemy is very clearly about that SAME muse and that same relationship. And yet.... instead of applying logic, Swifties opt to believe she wrote a song about coming back to someone after time apart about Travis who she was just for the first time dating, and would have had to write and produce it within the first couple months of them dating????? So she... never broke up with him which makes the lyrics impossible to be about him if we think a little critically.

And yet, that's still their accepted conclusion with a straight face, that's not at all delusional to them??? But the suggestion that it could be about someone she had known for over a decade and was rumoured to be together with that entire period of time on again off again is the less fitting of those lyrics??

Again 4 words. I. Don't. Buy. It.

They are not only gaslighting the fandom but also gaslighting themselves. The way they stalk our pages to see what Kaylor's think and a lot of them are grown adults I refuse to believe every single one has that little analysis comprehension.

And because they watch us, I KNOW they have seen Karlie say in 2018 that her favorite book ever is "The Alchemist" which gives them no room to say she did it for clout and during that time Taylor and Karlie were still publicly close and we got that backstage pic they took together for Rep Tour

So now when they also just saw Karlie say a week ago in the big year of 2025 that "The Alchemist" is the book that changed her life, and then her smirk right after saying it..... I just cannot bring myself to believe that that doesn't resonate with them that The Alchemy far more fits the Karlie narrative lyrically and realistically than it ever could Travis. Like they KNOW. I would at that point genuinely be concerned if they spent their time in Kaylor spaces and yet all those factors considered, didn't come to that conclusion.

And this is exactly why I say I genuinely believe anti-Kaylor swifties know Taylor and Karlie dated, believe she's likely still with Karlie, and it perfectly explains why they are constantly in a panic that Taylor and Travis are going to breakup when we don't hear from them in awhile and then the collective sighs of relief like "Omg they're alive and well" and then their immediate next statement is "see gaylors you're wrong!" ... right so your implication is that you were sitting there fearing we're right and when you got your pap pic it soothed you back into your delusions of very strained hope that it's real and your fav is a straight woman.

Likely it's literally just repacked homophobia. They are not not aware their fav is likely queer and with a woman, they just don't like it. They wouldn't be able to make her life about a man anymore. That's not suitable for them, and that is why they get so angry and try to prevent others from casually noticing that Taylor is not straight nor dating men. That is why despite the fact they insist they wholeheartedly think there is 0 ounce or credibility to what we think, they still constantly check on us and make counter posts to our ideas. If they had no worries of us being right, they would have given up years ago and yet they're still there making updates about what we're doing like their life depends on it. It's all very deeply defensive rooted from a dishonest place.

The only part of the fandom I believe truly thinks Taylor is straight are those unaware of gaylor/kaylor, casual fans that just listen to her music like I was originally. It's so funny because at this point a Kaylor could post just a daisy and antis will INSTANTLY know it's about Kaylor so please they can save it if they think it's not obvious that whenever Taylor uses daisies, eye theory, 8/3, etc they instantly think it's about Karlie.

Which means they are kidding themselves if they think it's not equally as obvious that when Karlie said "The Alchemist" is her favorite book that they didn't instantly realize we were right that The Alchemy is about her. Which btw.... Karlie said that in her 73 questions with Vogue interview, guess when Taylor's 73 questions with Vogue came out? Which talks about Big Sur romantically, shows framed photos of her and Karlie, Carly Simon who Karlie was named after, the cake Karlie got for her, and more.

That came out on April 19th. Aka TTPD date. The album The Alchemy is on. Yeah, pretty straightforward with that one if you ask me, she led back to the source that inspired The Alchemy in the first place. Fork meet kitchen

[walsuf]

hey I wanna make a character with narcolepsy and I've been doing my own research but I also felt like maybe asking someone who has it and stuff and since you made that comic headcannoning SM with it (really neat btw <3) I thought that you may be comfortable sharing some experience with it (as much as you feel comfortable ofc!) so I could better understand it so I may fit it into a character myself. OBVIOUSLY YOU DONT NEED TO ACCEPT IF YOU DONT WANT TO! this is coming out of nowhere and stuff so apologies if you feel uncomfortable!

[LONG POST] Yeah! Let's talk narcolepsy! Some things that might help (ft. Shadow Milk)

First and foremost, I want to say that my experience with narcolepsy is going to be very different from other people's, and I'm mostly just going to yap about my own details. Everyone experiences their symptoms in a unique way, kinda like how every bag of fruit snacks is different. You anticipate the same stuff inside (symptoms), but one bag will have all of the colors and another might have all orange ones.

I think my biggest advice here is to not dogpile all the symptoms, just focus on what heavily affects a character the most. Sometimes that's going to be nightmarish hallucinations, sometimes their sleep attacks; for Shadow Milk, I fixate a lot on cataplexy! (Weakness is a huge thing that I struggle with personally.) Regardless of additional symptoms, excessive daytime sleepiness will always be present :p

This one might be hard, but do something that you resonate with the most. Most people have experienced sleep paralysis at least once; a lot of people with narcolepsy get sleep paralysis very often, usually accompanied by visual/audio/tactile hallucinations. Then, it becomes a matter of changing the frequency and intensity rather than making something up.

When it comes to hallucinations, they can sometimes be horrifying (and are exacerbated by sickness, lack of sleep, and general unwellness). I find that a lot of people with nightmares and frightening hallucinations tend to have those in excess; I personally almost never get those. My hallucinations are usually very minor, like seeing the lights flicker when I close my eyes, or feeling like my body is surrounded by water or gently rocking back and forth. My most frequent one (and by far the most annoying) is that coming out of sleep I hear my alarm going off or my name being called. Neither of which are actually happening.

Excessive daytime sleepiness (EDS), like everything else, presents differently in everyone. Sleep attacks are only one aspect of it---which gives a person the nearly irresistible need to sleep for seconds to sometimes hours. Some people thug them out (often they can be resisted) because they find themselves losing way more time succumbing to it. Some people fall asleep very quickly, and can be in the middle of an important thing while doing so. I've personally fallen asleep mid-lecture while writing notes, and looking back at them is... interesting (there's a thing called "automatic behaviors" you might want to look into). Personally, I don't get sleep attacks often, but they are exhausting to deal with, and make me pretty much appear and act drunk without the fun part.

My normal experience with EDS is just a general level of sleepiness following me throughout the day, like that same feeling you get while working on an essay late in the night. It's manageable, but sucks. This isn't to say I never feel alert, there are good days and bad days, but most are in this sleepy middle ground that forces me to nap twice a day (noon and afternoon) lest I get all grouchy and my speech starts to slur.

From the outside perspective, sometimes people can guess that I'm having a sleep attack or just generally sleepy before I even know. I'll be told, "you sound tired," which is almost followed up with an, "...I do???" I crash within the next ten minutes almost every time.

Cataplexy is a symptom specific to N1 (which is actually an autoimmune disease, fun fact), and also happens to be what I struggle with frequently. It has strong emotional triggers (think anxiety, anger, surprise, laughter [doesn't have to be all of those, just pick a few]) and causes a degree of weakness. This can be anything from eye twitches and difficulty holding up the neck to full body collapses. For the most part, I feel it in my hands. When I laugh, I can't write or clench my hands any more. They become useless floppy limbs until a few minutes pass and they're back to normal. I am (unfortunately) a very giggly person. Personally, my slightest attacks make my head fall forward. My most severe one had me collapsing 6 times in the course of 15 minutes, hitting my head each time. Cataplexy attacks can cause subsequent attacks to come easier, and it's difficult to break the cycle. I avoid stairs for this reason.

If you've ever experienced morning weakness, or a few minutes in the morning where its slightly more difficult to hold things and get around, that's a lot like what minor cataplexy feels like, except condensed into a short, spontaneous episode. Oh! And it's often accompanied with blurred vision (look up ptosis) and speech difficulties as well!

I don't fear any of my symptoms because that's just how I experience the world. I've always felt weakness with laughter, so I thought that was always normal. I've been frequently sleepy and assumed that I was somehow lazier than everyone else. Now, I try to listen to my body. It takes a lot of effort to stop a conversation and go to sleep because my body needs it, and it sometimes sucks to forewarn my lab partners not to tell jokes around me. Sometimes I lay down in the middle of nowhere and have random people asking if I'm okay (hate this, I'm usually too weak to respond).

All in all, just try to make it a set of circumstances that someone else lives with rather than a set of symptoms that constantly put a character into crisis mode. People with narcolepsy don't need to be babied (I sincerely hope my comics don't come off that way because they're rooted in personal experience), they can manage their symptoms just fine on their own. Self-accommodations can come off as strange or funny (bringing a blanket everywhere, wearing sunglasses to manage minor cataplexy, wrist strap on the phone so as not to drop it), but they're there for a reason.

Sorry for the tangent, I've actually been on a heavy uptick educating myself. A good place to go for life experiences would be, of course, the narcolepsy subreddit. It's a good resource for people talk rather than medical jargon. If you need any examples for how to write or depict certain symptoms, though, I would be more than happy to do that on request! (I loove writing drabbles, and I know there's almost 0 narcolepsy fics, much less any written by people who care about accuracy. I'm begging to be asked here [will probably cookie run-ify everything though])

Thank you for reading if you got this far, and I hope this helped!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I think I’ve figured out the reason your brand of omegaverse is so appealing and so…digestible? Don’t know how else to say it. It goes down easy and tastes great. 

A lot of omegaverse relies on a very rigid kind of escapism to build its appeal. Inherent loss of agency, extremely exaggerated social dynamics, the works. Classic big ol’ alpha and helpless twink omega. That does it for some people and that’s fine, but I am always gonna prefer enhancement over escapism. I do not need them smelling like the candle section, because I think the musk humans already have going on is pretty great, thanks. The enhancement of that to a universal attitude with instinctual responses? fucking awesome. Maybe it’s just me and my specific lineup of kinks and things that make me tick, but so much of your omegaverse is great because it takes a preexisting…thing…and enhances it into something of a biological imperative. let’s hear it for breeding, musk, and the world’s most severe subspace lmao. 

Omegaverse that horseshoes into heteronormativity is such a waste. Omegaverse is so fucking queer in all of its facets and when that is brought out and woven into work it is wonderful. Why wouldn’t omegas be at the center of relationships, the ones out front? The only reason people assume they wouldn’t be is because humans have uniquely messed up on that one with patriarchy. There’s even something to be said about the element of shame– especially in John’s case in your writing. It is scary to let yourself embrace comfort from those around you in a world that makes doing so an active vulnerability. It is easy to perceive such things as weakness within yourself, and there is not much better than finding the people who prove you wrong. 

It’s not primal because of some vaguely wolfish pseudoscience, it’s primal because it’s extremely human. An enhancement of the raw human inclination towards connection with a side of juicy biological and cultural worldbuilding. I could go on, but I will leave it at that. It’s beautifully human. 🦦By god I write long ones. Apologies

Read this a few times as it's really nice feedback. Thanks, bud. I like to play with the "rules" of it because it can be damn hot, but, like you, there are huge swathes of it that hit my ick like a sledgehammer. I like the animalistic nature of omegaverse, but I want it to interplay with the existing character not rewrite them, and the animal kingdom is so much more complex and dynamic than copy-pasting cishet patriarchy "but with knots".

Also, yeah, humans smell good. I'm very scent focused myself. But the "his slick smelled like vanilla and sandalwood" always made me chuckle. Naw it don't, mate, he smells musky and he wants to feel safe enough to be railed and not be judged for enjoying it so much.