#i may still be on their system and i volunteered there for 4 damn years so. i'm gonna ask my manager

[boydykegenius]

shock horror after leeds/reading måneskin are playing the biggest fucking festival in the uk and it's the only one you can't just normally get tickets for

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though. 

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump. 

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle. 

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.” 

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.” 

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions. 

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?” he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again— 

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean. 

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya. 

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better. 

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe. 

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good. 

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you. 

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.” 

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion. 

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be. 

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music. 

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look. 

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[soobiniebaby]

Angels & Devils Part XIII : Just Stay

Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction

~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 || part 11 || part 12 || part 13 || part 14 || part 15 || part 16 || part 17 ~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun ~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle ~ l a n g u a g e : English ~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.) ~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation ~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose? Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past MO Academy: her new high school Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep 5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?

Choi Yeonjun didn’t know when to stop, which was one of his greatest strengths, but now he knew that it could very well be his greatest weakness as well.

Once he had set his sights on something, he’d never stop until he achieved it. Take B for example, the moment he knew he wanted her, he didn’t let anything stop him from pursuing her until she finally said yes. For tonight, a goal he had unintentionally set was to keep himself on Kim Jisoo’s good side, as that’s what his father would have wanted. And because of that, ever since she had arrived at the club that night, he felt as if he had no choice but to follow along with whatever she wanted, even if that meant spending the night entertaining his ex girlfriend.

Park Rose was just as captivating and electrifying as he remembered her to be. Her fiery red hair was just as stunning as her jolting personality, which was one of the things that he had loved about her. She was exciting, even now he could never tell what was going through her mind or what unexpected words would spew out her mouth. She always caught him off guard, and the feeling on being kept on his toes just kept him wanting more.

Tonight was no different. He wanted to believe that the only reason he had been stuck by Rose’s side the whole night was because Jisoo had insisted that he hang around their group for the evening, but he knew that a small part of him was still captivated by Rose’s appeal. He knew that he could easily give Jisoo a plausible excuse to break away from her group, but a part of him didn’t want to.

Maybe it was the 5 rounds of shots that Jisoo ordered up for the group, or maybe it was the 3 glasses of Vodka Redbulls that he had consumed, but whatever it was, Rose felt too familiar, her rose scented perfume overpowering his senses as she leaned in close whenever she spoke to him, the way her laugh resounded above the noise of the blaring club music took him back to all the times she would laugh at all his lame jokes, the way she tilted her head back and laid a hand on his shoulder reminded him of how surprisingly gentle her touch was for someone who was so boisterous and loud, and the way she pouted at him when he refused her offer to dance with her echoed all the times she would pout at him in the past knowing that he would eventually give in and she’d get her way.

With the alcohol overpowering his system and Rose taking over his senses, he lets her pull him through the crowd until they were in the throng of sweaty bodies and booming music, and he watches as she whips her long red hair over her shoulder and starts to move around him. As she rests her hands on his shoulders and slowly moves closer towards him, moving her body against his, he’s reminded of the nights they spent with their bodies entwined and how he memorized every dip and curve in her skin like a map, causing his face to heat up at the memories.

As she notices the shift in his facial expression, she smirks, catching him off guard before grabbing his face and pulling down until their lips crashed together.

She kisses him hungrily, her lips moving fervently as her fingertips dug deeper into his skin, yet unlike the hundreds of kisses they shared before, this one tasted like bitter poison on his lips.

He instantly breaks away, pulling her hands off his body, as he looks at her in distaste. “What the fuck did you do that for?” he hisses.

She looks at him innocently, batting her lashes, before she shrugs. “I missed you, Junnie, and I know you missed me too.” She attempts to lay a hand on his shoulder but he shrugs her off, grabbing her hand and shoving it away.

“You haven’t changed at all, Rose.” he spits out. As he wipes his mouth and turns his back on her, his gaze meets a familiar pair of eyes from across the room, and he freezes, taking in the disappointed look on Soobin’s face, realizing that he had probably seen what just happened.

“Shit.” he says to himself, and as Soobin turns away and shakes his head, Yeonjun quickly darts across the room to meet him, trying his best to navigate through the crowd, keeping his eyes focused on his best friend.

“Soobin, wait.” Yeonjun finally says once he’s within earshot. “I need you to listen.” They’ve reached a less crowded and more quiet part of the club, by the bar, and Soobin had taken a seat on one of the barstools, running a frustrated hand through his hair before downing 3 consecutive shots of vodka. Yeonjun had never really seen his friend like this before.

“What, Yeonjun?” Soobin says, his face going sour as the alcohol slides down his throat. “Whatever it is you have to say, I’m listening now. But I have some things to say too, and when I start talking, you better listen carefully.”

Yeonjun takes a deep breath as he takes a seat beside Soobin, downing a shot of alcohol himself before looking him in the eyes. “I’m not sure what exactly you saw, but I’ll explain everything anyway. And I promise that I’ll listen to whatever you have to say too.” he begins slowly. “Kim Jisoo is here, as in Kim Jonghyun’s successor, the owner of the biggest Technology Firm in the country? Anyway, for as long as I can remember, my father has been very particular about staying on Jisoo’s good side for company relation purposes, and that means practically treating her like a VIP whenever I see her.”

He goes on to explain how Jisoo showed up with her friends and how Rose happened to be one of them, and about how the rest of the night had gone, up until the moment Rose pulled him in for a kiss and he cursed her out.

“Are you done now?” Soobin asks when Yeonjun finally stops talking. He had been quiet the whole time, staring at Yeonjun straight on as he absorbed every word that came out of his mouth. When Yeonjun nods, Soobin sighs.

“Yeonjun, I need you to be honest with me here. I’m going to ask you some questions and I want you to really think about it before you give me any answers.” Soobin says, and after Yeonjun nods, he begins.

“First of all, do you still have feelings for Rose?” he asks. Yeonjun’s mouth opens to flat out say ‘no,’ but upon seeing Soobin’s look of disapproval, he pauses and tries to think really hard about it.

He couldn’t deny that he definitely still felt that familiar spark that he used to feel whenever Rose was involved, but he chalked it up to the fact that she just felt familiar and he just felt nostalgic. “To be completely honest, I definitely felt something when I saw her again, but that was just because I was so surprised after not seeing her for what 2 years?” he says.

Soobin raises a brow. “But you definitely felt something? What did you feel?”

Yeonjun lets out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know, it felt…familiar? She felt the same, I felt like a spark but that doesn’t mean anything.”

Soobin’s brows furrow together. “A spark? That doesn’t sound like nothing, Yeonjun.”

“Trust me, whatever it was, it means nothing to me. Because she’s a lying, cheating, manipulative mess of a person and she can go to hell for all I care.” he said, trying to sound as convincing and as chagrined as he could, but after seeing her again, it felt weird to talk about her as if she were trash.

“Whatever you say.” Soobin says, sounding unconvinced. Yeonjun could tell that Soobin was trying to maintain his composure and trying to remain level headed, but the way he rolled his shoulders back was a dead giveaway that he was close to losing it. “And now for my second question.” he says, taking a pause.

Yeonjun raises a brow. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Do you…” Soobin begins, hesitating. “Do you love B?”

Yeonjun stopped breathing for a moment, the mention of his girlfriend knocking the wind out of his lungs, the guilt of realizing that she hadn’t even crossed his mind the whole time he was with Rose filling his gut. “Do I love B?” he repeats.

Soobin nods, and judging by how tight his jaw was clenched, Yeonjun knew that he had to consider his answer very carefully. But how could he ever admit that she hadn’t crossed his mind the entire time he was with his ex?

“What kind of a question is that?” Yeonjun exclaims. “Soobin, we’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks, I don’t know. How would I know?” Yeonjun was panicking, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “How do you even know when you’re in love with someone after just 2 weeks—” he sputters, until Soobin takes him by surprise and slams a fist on the countertop, making Yeonjun jump in his seat.

“God damn it, Yeonjun. What the fuck are you saying?” Soobin says, his voice dangerously calm but the words coming out like venom, making Yeonjun wince. “It’s either you love her or you don’t, and right now, it doesn’t sound like you do.”

“Soobin, come on! I can’t just decide whether I love her or not. But I think I definitely could be in love with her.” Yeonjun says helplessly. “I mean, she’s amazing. She’s beautiful, she’s perfect, she’s… one of the best damn things to ever happen to me.” he finishes. “And maybe I’m not sure if I love her right now, but I know that I would make a complete ass of myself if I let a girl like her go, so I could very well love her anyway.”

Silence envelops them then, the club music and party goers sounding distant, as Soobin stares at Yeonjun calculating his answers, until he finally says “She saw you, you know.”

“Who? Baby? She saw me what?” Yeonjun asks nervously.

“She said she saw the look on your face when Rose walked into the club earlier. I wouldn’t have believed her until I saw you actually talking to Rose.” Soobin sighs. “I don’t know if it’s cause she was wasted, because believe me she reeked of alcohol, but she was a blubbering mess, Yeonjun. She was devastated. If she finds out that you kissed Rose, it would kill her.”

Yeonjun’s face starts to pale. “Shit, she saw that? And she told you? How did she even know about Rose?”

“Yes, she apparently saw that and yes, she told me all about it. That’s not the point, Yeonjun. Now this is the part where you listen to me. Very carefully.” Soobin says, his authoritative I’m-the-student-council-president voice taking over. “B is in a very fragile state right now. She was a big mess, crying her eyes out on the floor of the broom closet, already questioning her self-worth, insecurities eating her alive. She told me that it hurt to see you with your ex.”

“She said all that?” Yeonjun says, the guilt weighing down his heart. “What else did she say?”

“Maybe it should’ve been you, Soobin.”

Soobin shook his head, trying to forget that segment of their conversation and everything that followed. “She didn’t say much else. But you know what I said? I told her that you would be a complete idiot to let something as insignificant as your cheater of an ex to fuck things up. But I guess I was wrong.”

Now that really hurt Yeonjun. He put a hand on his chest. “You know she’s the one who kissed me, right?” he says. “Yes, I talked to her and all that, but—”

“You cheated on her, Yeonjun.” Soobin says quietly, making him freeze.

“What did you say?” Yeonjun asks, his hands shaking now. “Are you calling me a cheater, Choi?” his voice raised. How dare he? “Maybe what I did wasn’t right, but you know what a real cheater does? A real cheater uses you and fucks other people behind your back, all the while making you think that everything is your god damn fault.” Just like Rose did, he thought to himself. “And that’s not me.”

“‘Maybe it wasn’t right?’ Yeonjun, you were with your ex for almost the whole night. You could’ve left any time you wanted to but you didn’t. What’s worse is that you felt something, you felt a spark while you were with her. And maybe the kiss wasn’t your fault, but the fact that you even gave her a chance to let it happen speaks volumes to me.” Soobin answers back, his breaths coming in heavy as he starts to lose his composure.

Soobin shook his head. “Forget it. It’s your relationship that you’re fucking up, not mine. You believe whatever you want, tell B whatever you want, I’m staying out of it. But let me just say one last thing.” he says, standing up from the barstool. “You better not hurt her, Yeonjun.”

And with that, Soobin gives him one last meaningful look before downing another shot and walking away.

•°•

When Han Baby woke up the next morning, she was made aware of 3 things.

First, she was badly hungover.

She tried to open her eyes but the blinding lights glaring into the room were too bright for her dehydrated body to endure. She rolls over in bed and she immediately feels a wave of nausea shoot through her stomach as her whole world spins. She squeezes her eyes with her hands and stretches her arms outwards until they come in contact with something warm and soft and solid. A person.

Second, she was not alone in her bed. Surprised, she instantly turns her head to face whoever was sleeping in her bed, instantly regretting it when she feels the world around her spin once again, but an endeared smile instantly creeps into her face when she sees who the person was. It was Yeonjun, his blue hair standing out against her white sheets, one hand over his face and another resting on his bare chest, the blanket coming up to his stomach, which was lined with a subtle yet noticeable layer of muscles.

Third, Yeonjun was laying shirtless in her bed. And he had abs.

She felt her face heat up upon seeing so much of his bare skin and immediately peeked at the covers to see if she was still clothed, and sighed in relief when she saw that she was still wearing her dress from the night before. Once that was established, she takes a moment to observe her boyfriend, who looked like an angel with his glowing honey-tinted skin, his plump perfectly shaped lips slightly parted as he let out a few quiet snores in his sleep, making her giggle. She tries to recall the events that led up to having him sleep in her bed for the night, but nothing from the night before comes to mind.

What happened last night?

She remembered arriving at the club with Kai and walking in together with the guys, she remembered meeting Ryujin and Yuna inside, she remembered having a few shots with the group before someone suggested they play that Kiss or Tell game, but her mind was unable to conjure up images of anything that came after. Whatever happened, she figured it couldn’t have been anything bad since she woke up next to Yeonjun the night after his birthday party, and she was a bit curious and excited to find out how exactly it happened.

Remembering the date, she excitedly scooches closer to him, resting on her elbows as she leans over him and plants gentle kisses all over his face, from his cheeks to his forehead, to his nose and down to his lips.

Yeonjun lets out a noise, a sleepy grunt, before he runs a hand through his hair and slowly opens his eyes, surprised to see B looking down at him.

“Happy birthday, Choi Yeonjun.” she whispers, a bright smile on her face as their eyes meet. He smiles back at her, slowly and groggily, his eyes still cloudy with sleep.

He lifts a hand up and strokes her hair, savoring her radiant smile before gently pulling her towards him to let their lips meet once again. “And good morning to you, Han Baby.” he says, their lips still touching. When he feels her smile against his lips, he lets out a little laugh before pulling her in even closer, until she was lying down on top of him, the covers between their bodies. She lets her fingers roam, fiddling with the sheets until her hand comes in contact with the warm skin of his chest.

“Good morning to you, too.” she says, biting her lower lip to stop herself from smiling too much. “What are you doing here, birthday boy?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but his mind is unable to formulate an answer. As he tries to look back on the night before, he realizes that the last thing he remembers was welcoming Kim Jisoo and her friends, which happened to include his ex-girlfriend, into the club. He remembered hanging around them at Jisoo’s request and downing shots and drinking vodka, but after that, his mind went black.

His brows pull together as he responds “I’m actually not sure, the night is a bit of a blur to me, and there’s a lot that I don’t really remember.”

B sighs. “Maybe we can help each other fill in the blanks together? I tell you what I remember and you tell me what you remember?” she suggests, her fingers tracing circles over his torso.

“Are you drawing circles around my nipples?” Yeonjun asks, looking down at his chest where her fingers were. She immediately blushes and pulls her hands away, making him laugh. “Okay okay, let’s fill in the blanks together. What do you remember?”

B tells him about what she recalls, up until the game of Kiss or Tell. “After the game, I hardly remember anything. I think I went off with Ryujin and, knowing her, she’s probably the reason why I got blackout drunk.”

Yeonjun nods. “That sounds about right. I remember I was welcoming some people from my father’s guest list and I ended up tagging along with a few of them.”

“Oh? Which ones?” B asks, her fingers drawing random patterns on his skin.

“Kim Jisoo, heiress to the biggest Technology Firm in the nation. My father insists I treat her like a VIP every time I see her, so I practically have to kiss the ground she walks on. She brought a few friends with her, one of which…” Yeonjun hesitates, before taking a quick breath, “just so happened to be my ex.” he finishes.

B’s fingers freeze on his skin, her mouth snapping shut, as she tries to take in this information. She didn’t want to freak out over it, but a part of her had been insecure about Yeonjun’s past relationship ever since she found out about it. Everyone made it sound like such a big deal, her being his first love and all, and B’s curiosity got the best of her and she even ended up looking her up on social media and stalking her twitter account, which she instantly regretted because all it did was make her feel insecure about herself.

“Your ex?” B asks, trying to sound casual and unfazed. “Your first love, right?”

Yeonjun looks at her surprised and nods. “Yeah, how’d you know about that?”

“Ah, Ryujin and Yuna told me a bit about it. Her name was Rose, right?” B asks.

It felt wrong to hear her name come out of B’s lips, but he nods. “Yeah, Rose. She was with Kim Jisoo last night so I ended up seeing her too. I hope you don’t mind that I spent time with my ex last night.” he says. Granted, he didn’t remember much about what he did when he was with Rose last night, but that didn’t matter to him now.

B nods.  “Yeah, it’s fine, I shouldn’t even care about it, I mean it’s your relationship.”

“It was my relationship, but not anymore.” Yeonjun looks at her and notices that she was deliberately avoiding her gaze. “Baby.” he says, trying to get her attention. When her eyes shift to the floor, he cups her face in his hand and gently rubs his thumb against her cheek. “Hey, Baby, look at me.”

She finally looks at him then, and it’s clear in her eyes that she definitely didn’t like the idea of him seeing his ex again. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t avoid seeing her last night. I didn’t know she was gonna be there. If it bothers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way at all, I promise I’ll never see her again.” he says, soothingly tracing her jaw now. He uses his free hand to hold hers and press it against his chest, right where his heart is.

“Do you feel this, Baby?” he asks, the gentle rise and fall of his chest accompanied by the inexplicable beating of his heart. “This is all yours, Han Baby. I am all yours. I promise.” he says reassuringly. She gives a small smile but bites her lip, and he can tell that she was resisting. He uses his thumb to dislodge her lower lip from her teeth, gently brushing it.

“Thank you, Yeonjun.” she says, finally giving him a genuine smile. She knew it might’ve seen strange, and she didn’t want to be that insecure or controlling girlfriend, but it was nice to see that he was making the effort to make her happy, and that was enough for her. “Now I have one question for you…”

Yeonjun raises a brow, wondering what it could be.

She grins. “What happened to your shirt?”

Yeonjun bursts out laughing, his chest rumbling below her, sending vibrations through the sheets. “I think we’ll have to figure out the answer to that together, Baby. You wanna have breakfast before my father inevitably summons me for some bullshit birthday dinner with my family?”

B nods, giggling and booping his nose. “Whatever you want, birthday boy.”

•°•

Turns out that Yeonjun ended up shirtless because someone (presumably B) had thrown up on his shirt, as evidenced by his shirt found discarded on her bedroom floor with puke stains all over. Neither of them could recall how they ended up in B’s bed together or anything else from the night before, but they didn’t mind.

They spent most of the day lazing around B’s apartment, grateful that Kai had conveniently recovered from the chicken pox and no longer needed to stay over at her apartment. Once Yeonjun had received a message from his father telling him to be home by 5PM and a text from his driver saying that he was ready to pick him up and waiting outside B’s apartment, it was time for him to go.

“Um, Baby, as much as I know you don’t mind  me being in my shirtless state, I’m pretty sure that my parents would be highly concerned if I came home with a puke-stained shirt from the night before or with no shirt at all.” Yeonjun says after collecting his belongings.

“Oh, right. We probably should’ve washed your shirt when we got up this morning.” B says, slapping her forehead. “Wait, let me check my closet to see if I have anything you can borrow.” she says, opening her wardrobe.

Yeonjun chuckles. “Baby, you are aware of how adorably tiny you are, right?”

B huffs, looking through her cabinet. “I am well aware, thank you.” she says, quickly glaring at him before turning back to her clothes. “But I like to wear oversized clothes, so I might have something in here that could fit you.” she says, looking through the jackets and hoodies hanging in her closet, until she sees a big gray one that definitely looked like it could fit Yeonjun, or even big enough to look oversized on him.

“That looks like it would fit me. It looks like it would be a little too big on me, actually.” Yeonjun observes as B examines the big gray hoodie. “Wow, how big is that on you? It looks like you could wear it as a dress.”

“It goes all the way down to my knees, actually.” B whispers under her breath. “I, uh, I don’t think this hoodie’s any good. I know I have a button down here somewhere that would be perfect fit on you.” she says, quickly putting the big gray hoodie back in and rummaging through the clothes.

“What? Why not?” Yeonjun asks.

Because it’s Soobin’s, she thought. And at the thought of Soobin, her heart aches for some inexplicable reason.

“Because I haven’t really washed it, ah, here it is.” B says dismissively, taking out a plaid button-down shirt and handing it over to him. “I’m sure this will fit you perfectly.”

Yeonjun puts the shirt on and starts buttoning it up, his biceps straining against the fabric. “I’m not much of a plaid guy, but this will do.” he says, fixing the shirt up. “How does it look?”

B giggles. “I’m pretty sure it’s the girlfriend who’s supposed to be wearing the boyfriend’s clothes, but that shirt definitely looks better on you than it ever has on me.”

Yeonjun grins. “Guess we're breaking gender stereotypes then. Alright, you can wear my clothes anytime you want. And thanks, Baby.” he says, giving her a quick kiss. “I really have to go now, Hwall’s been waiting for me downstairs and I don’t think I can keep my father waiting any longer either.”

“It’s alright, Yeonjunie.” she says, rubbing their noses together. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Happy birthday.” she says again.

“Thanks, Baby.” he says, kissing her forehead, making his way down to kiss the tip of her nose, and finally her lips before pulling away. “See you tomorrow.”

And with that, she escorts him out of her apartment, watching him make his way down the building and waving him off as he gets into his car.

She sighs as she closes the front door behind her, laying a hand over her chest. Spending the day with Yeonjun was great, but she couldn’t stop thinking of that second of heartache she felt when she thought of Soobin, and how she felt the pain once again as soon as he popped into her mind.

What was that about?

•°•

“Soobin.”

“…”

“Soobin?”

“…”

“Soobin!”

After the third time, he couldn’t resist any longer. He sighs and plasters on a smile before turning to face her. “Hey B.” It was Monday, 2 days after the disastrous events that took place at Yeonjun’s birthday party, and he had been trying his best to avoid both of them. He didn’t know what Yeonjun had told B or how much B knew about what happened on Saturday night, but a part of him was surprised when the pair arrived at school together on Yeonjun’s new motorbike, which was a birthday gift from his parents. “What’s up?” Soobin adds, trying to push away all his thoughts and feign normalcy.

“What’s up? Are you kidding me? You haven’t said a single thing to me today and the first thing you say is ‘what’s up?’” B asks playfully, nudging his arm. That was true, he had gone the whole day without speaking to either of them, which had been easy enough since the 2 of them were practically in their own love bubble at lunch, making it easier for Soobin to stay away. It was currently their last period, their Creative Writing class, and Yeonjun had been pulled out of school for the afternoon by his father so he was absent, leaving B and Soobin alone.

“Technically, the first thing I said was ‘Hey B.’” Soobin returns with a playful tone. “Why? Is there anything you wanna talk about?” he asks a bit nervously. Knowing how wasted she was the last time he saw her, he was unsure about whether or not she remembered anything about their conversation in the broom closet, but he was hoping that she didn’t. Especially the part where he said:

“It’s not like I never liked you, because I did. And I still do.”

To his surprise and relief, B just shakes her head. “Nah, you just seemed a bit off today and I just wanted to know if you were okay. Is there anything you wanna talk about?” she asks.

Soobin’s smile suddenly felt very pained. He wanted to do his best to avoid them and stay out of their relationship, but why did she have to be so damn sweet? And why did she have to look so damn good? He always found her to be rather attractive, from the moment he caught her at the steps on the first day of school, but now she looked absolutely radiant. Her skin was glowing in contrast to her long dark hair, making the blush creeping into her cheeks and her plump pink lips stand out. She looked so beautiful it made his heart ache. “No, I’m fine, but thanks for worrying about me, B.” he simply says.

B raises a brow. “Are you sure? You’ve been looking mopey and sad all day.” she says, concerned. “This something happen? I haven’t heard from you or the other guys all weekend either, except for Ninging.”

Soobin shakes his head. “Nothing’s happened, everything’s fine.” he lies, but then he stops. He knew that something definitely happened and that not everything was fine, but she was acting too cheerful considering what happened last Saturday night. “What about you? How was your weekend? Did anything happen?” he asks, curious now.

“My weekend was nice. I woke up on Sunday morning hungover as fuck, but I woke up and Yeonjun was there in my apartment with me!” she laughs. “It’s actually really funny cause neither of us remember how we ended up together in my apartment. I guess we both got way too drunk last Saturday night. I don’t mind though, cause I got to spend most of Sunday celebrating Yeonjun’s birthday with him until he had to go. It was really nice.” B says with a happy smile on my face.

No way. Did she not know? “Oh that does sound nice. I can’t believe you got wasted last Saturday night though. How much do you remember?” he asks, wanting to know.

She bites her lip, trying her best to recall. “Honestly, not much. I only remember up until we played that Kiss or Tell game then we all sort of went our own ways. Ryujin dragged me along and I’m pretty sure we ended up doing shots, which is probably how I got so drunk. Other than that, the night’s a blank. Same goes for Yeonjun, though he did tell me that he remembered seeing his ex girlfriend there. You knew his ex, right?” she asks with wide curious eyes.

So Yeonjun didn’t tell her? “Yeah, I remember Rose. I can’t believe she was there. Did Yeonjun mention anything else? I mean, it must have been weird for him to see his ex again after 2 years.” he says, the kiss between Yeonjun and Rose clear in his mind and the confrontation that followed after still lingering in his thoughts.

B shakes her head. “I guess it was a bit weird but he didn’t mention anything, just that he ended up getting pretty drunk as well. And I know it sounds crazy, but to be honest, the thought of him seeing his ex girlfriend again makes me feel sick but he promised he wouldn’t see her again or do anything that made me feel uncomfortable. Isn’t he sweet?” she says, laughing.

No fucking way. He didn’t tell her. Now Soobin was mad, and he badly needed to keep himself together. He didn’t want to lose it, especially not in front of B, who didn’t seem to know anything. “Wow, that does sound sweet.” he says, trying not to let the bitterness creep into his tone.

B nods. “He really is.” she says dreamily. Soobin grips his seat tightly, his knuckles straining as he tried to keep his composure. How could Yeonjun not tell her? And how could she sit there and gush over him? The whole thing made him feel sick and he wished he never saw B crying in the broom closet or that he never saw Yeonjun kissing Rose, he wished he could be as blissfully unaware as B was, cause the whole thing was making his blood boil. He just wanted to get away from both of them, to follow Taehyun’s advice and stay as far away from their relationship as possible.

Just as he felt like he was about to combust, their teacher catches the class’s attention.

“Hello class. I can see that a lot of you have been making good progress with your social media project, but I have to say that over the weeks, I don’t feel like there’s much of a story in your posts. I’ve decided to extend your project up until the end of the term, and I’m sure you’ll all be happy to know that you’ll be stuck with your partners until then.” Sir Kim announces, sending the class buzzing.

B turns to Soobin with a big smile on her face. “Hear that, Soobin? Looks like we’ll be stuck together ‘till the end of the term.” she says excitedly.

Soobin gives her a pained smile in return. “Great.”

•°•

“Hey Baba, remind me I need to stop by your place to pick up my stuff.” Kai says as he munches on his egg tarts.

B nods. “Sure thing, Ninging. I already cleaned up the guest room and I left all your clothes folded neatly on the bed.”

It was after school and they were doing their usual hangout at Kang’s café, and Soobin felt like he was going out of his mind. He kept bouncing his knee under the table and shaking his legs, as if something were trying to crawl out of his skin.

Noticing this, Taehyun nudges his leg and raises a brow at him.

In response, Soobin decides to send him a text.

“Ah, my mom just texted me that she needs help lifting some things in the pantry. Soobin, can you come with me? I could use your help.” Taehyun says casually, finishing up his glass of lemonade.

Soobin nods and stands straight up. “Let’s go.” he says, making his way to the kitchen before Taehyun even got the chance to stand up.

Taehyun sighs, leaving the table and following after him. Beomgyu shoots him a confused look, but Taehyun just shakes his head in response, leaving Beomgyu at the table with B and Kai.

Taehyun leads the way into the pantry at the very back of the kitchen, letting Soobin in before locking the door behind him.

“Okay, we should be safe here. Now tell me, what’s wrong? Why do you look like you can’t breathe whenever you’re with B?” Taehyun says, folding his arms across his chest.

Soobin takes a deep breath. “Okay, remember when I found B wasted and crying her eyes out over seeing Yeonjun with Rose last Saturday?” he begins. Taehyun nods, urging him to continue. “Well, there’s more to it than just that.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyun asks. “You know, we still haven’t really talked about what happened last Saturday night, I was too busy to call you yesterday. I need you to tell me everything now.”

“Alright, so I saw B crying because she saw Yeonjun with Rose, she was an insecure wreck so I tried to comfort her and out of nowhere she says ‘Maybe it should’ve been you, Soobin.’” he says, holding up his hands to do air quotes. “So I was like, what’s that supposed to mean? Then she said that people have told her before that she and I would’ve been a good couple or something and then she says something like ‘maybe I should’ve chosen you, even though that wasn’t an option cause you never liked me’ and that’s when I ended up telling her ‘It’s not like I never liked you, cause I did, and I still do.’” Soobin says, groaning as he covers his face with his hands in shame.

Taehyun goes soft and lets out an “Aw, Soobin. That’s how you told her you like her?”

Soobin nods. “Yes, and I know I said that I wished she wouldn’t remember anything, and guess what, she doesn’t remember anything!”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Now you won’t have to clear the air with her about you whole ‘I like you’ confession.” Taehyun asks.

“Yes, but I mean she doesn’t remember anything. All she remembers is up until the end of the Kiss or Tell game and then getting drunk with Ryujin. She doesn’t remember seeing Yeonjun with Rose, she doesn’t remember how devastated she was when she saw them together.” Soobin say, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that still doesn’t seem too bad. At least now she won’t feel bad about it.” Taehyun reasons out.

Soobin shakes his head. “That’s not all. After you and Gyu arrived and you kicked me out of the broom closet, I started wandering around the club, then I saw Yeonjun with Rose. It seemed fine at first, they seemed like 2 people catching up and having a good time, dancing in the club, but then she kisses him.”

Taehyun’s eyes widen. “Yeonjun and Rose kissed last Saturday night?” he says in disbelief. “When? How? Why?”

“I dunno, I think it was about 30 minutes after I left you and Gyu with B? And it was like I said, one minute they’re talking and laughing, then the next minute they’re on the dance floor, and next thing I know they’re kissing.” Soobin says. “Yeonjun pulled away, and that’s when he saw me and we had a little talk.”

“Wow, that sounds bad. Rose is such a bitch, I’ve always hated her. What did you 2 talk about?” Taehyun remarks.

“I sorta just confronted him about it. I gave him a chance to explain what just happened, I asked him if he still had feelings for Rose and he said he felt a spark or something, I asked him if he loves B and he didn’t seem to know. I told him that B saw him and Rose together and how messed up she was over it. I told him that he cheated on B, that even if Rose was the one who kissed him he shouldn’t have given her a chance to let it happen in the first place. And I told him that he better not hurt B. That’s it.” Soobin says, explaining the gist of their conversation.

“That’s, wow, that’s a lot to unpack.” Taehyun says, trying to absorb everything. “I think you do have a point about it being Yeonjun’s fault that Rose kissed him, he should’ve known and just stayed away from her instead of letting something like that happen. But don’t you think that calling him a cheater was a little bit harsh?”

Soobin shakes his head, looking tired. “Maybe, but it’s how I see it. First, he admits that he still feels a spark when he was with his ex, then he spends a big chunk of the night with her, then he ends up being kissed by her? All while his girlfriend is crying her eyes out just from the mere sight of them together? I don’t know about you, but for me, as long as you have feelings for someone, especially for your ex, while you’re currently in a relationship, it feels like cheating to me.” he explains. “And seeing B like that, I just… I don’t want to see her that hurt ever again.”

Taehyun nods. “When you put it like that, Yeonjun definitely sounds guilty. And I have to agree that seeing B like that really just makes the whole Yeonjun and Rose thing a lot worse.” he says. “But B doesn’t seem to be bothered or anything. She looks very happy.”

Soobin nods. “Exactly. And you wanna know why? It’s cause she doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t remember seeing Yeonjun and Rose together, she doesn’t remember being absolutely heartbroken over seeing Yeonjun and Rose together, and she doesn’t know that Yeonjun and Rose kissed. Yeonjun didn’t tell her.”

“Are you serious?” Taehyun says, his tone still calm. This was one reason why Soobin enjoyed talking to Taehyun, he was always so calm, empathetic, non-judgmental, and logical. He felt like he could talk to him about anything without worry and he’d listen or give great advice if you needed it. “Yeonjun didn’t tell her anything?”

“Well, she mentioned that Yeonjun told her about seeing his ex at the club and he told her that he’d never see her again if it made B uncomfortable, but that’s about it.” Soobin says. “He didn’t tell her about the kiss, and it’s either because he didn’t want to, or…”

“…or he doesn’t remember it.” Taehyun finishes. “Have you talked to Yeonjun about it?”

Soobin shakes his head. “I’m finally taking your advice and keeping myself as far away from their relationship as possible. Heck, I was determined not to speak to either of them anymore, until B started talking to me in our Creative Writing class while Yeonjun was absent. And of course, I’m stuck with her as my partner for the rest of the term.” he sighs. “But I don’t know how I can survive this, I don’t think I can stand to talk to her and smile at her after seeing her so heartbroken over something she doesn’t even remember, after seeing Yeonjun kiss Rose and her not knowing about it. I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s definitely a tough one, Choi.” Taehyun remarks, taking a moment to think it over. “Okay, I’m going to assume that Yeonjun isn’t a complete jerk and that he didn’t tell B about the kiss because he didn’t remember it. Is Yeonjun still in the wrong? Yes, because he put himself in a situation with his ex. But is it a problem? For now, no. Because neither of them know about it, neither of them are currently affected by it. It will become a problem if B finds out about it from someone else, or if Yeonjun remembers the kiss and doesn’t tell her about it.”

“So what are you saying? That there’s no problem here?” Soobin asks, surprised by Taehyun’s verdict.

“Oh, there’s definitely a problem, but I’m just saying that right now, that problem is dormant since neither of them know about it. I’m saying that there’s nothing to deal with yet, since the problem is still dormant.” Taehyun says. “For now, they’re basically living the whole ignorance is bliss thing. Assuming that Yeonjun doesn’t remember, neither of them know about the kiss, therefore it isn’t a problem.”

“So basically it’ll only be a problem if B somehow finds out about it or if Yeonjun remembers it?” Soobin asks.

Taehyun nods. “Correct. If Yeonjun does end up remembering it, the problem will depend on whether or not he tells B about it.”

“So what am I supposed to do? I remember it, I know about it, I saw it, I saw everything. I don’t know what to do.” Soobin says, looking as confused as ever.

“Soobin, if I were you, I’d just sit this one out. It’s gonna be hard, but for now, you’re just gonna have to pretend that the problem doesn’t exist. If you tell either of them what you saw that night, it could only cause bigger problems. My advice for you remains the same, just try to keep yourself as far away from their relationship as possible. That doesn’t mean that you should avoid them, just be their friend but draw the line when it comes to their relationship.” Taehyun says.

“So I just pretend that I know nothing. Got it.” Soobin says, nodding once for covering his face with his hands and letting out a loud groan.

“Are you good now? Come on, we better get back or they’ll start wondering what’s taking us so long.” Taehyun asks.

“Wait, you haven’t told me about what happened to you last Saturday night. You said you kissed your crush! Who is it? How did it happen?” Soobin exclaims, suddenly remembering.

Taehyun laughs. “Maybe another time, Soobin.” he says with a mischievous smile, unlocking the door before leading the way out of the pantry, through the kitchen, and back to the table.

•°•

“Alright, I have to be home in 15 minutes and I still have to drop by B’s place to pick up my stuff, so we have to go now or else Lea will kill me!” Kai exclaims, seeing the text from his older sister.

B laughs, patting him on the back. “Alright, let’s get going then! Lucky for you, I live right across the street.” she says teasingly. “Tyunnie, you wanna walk home with us?”

Taehyun smiles but shakes his head. “No, I have to stay and help clean up today. You guys go ahead and be safe.” he politely declines.

Kai shrugs. “Alright, you be safe too. See you tomorrow!” he says, grabbing B’s arm and practically dragging her along with him as he rushes out of the café.

“I should probably go too, I’ve got a lot of homework to do. Whoever said that senior year would be a breeze was full of shit.” Soobin groans, looking through the checklist of tasks he had on his phone. “Gyu, you need a ride? I can drop you off along the way.” he offers.

Beomgyu shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. I’ve got a quiz tomorrow, so I think I’ll just stay here and study for a bit.” he says, taking out some notebooks and pens from his school bag and laying them down on the table.

“Wow, I never knew you actually studied.” Soobin remarks, causing Beomgyu to snort. “Good luck with that then, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” he says, waving goodbye to Taehyun and Beomgyu.

For a while, the 2 of them sit alone at the table in silence. Beomgyu was reading through his notes, highlighting a few things along the way, while Taehyun sat across him, finishing up his 3rd glass of lemonade. As Taehyun’s glass becomes empty, he stands up and takes the glass with him. As he’s about to walk away from the table, he’s surprised when he feels someone grab his free hand, stopping him in his place.

He looks back and sees Beomgyu looking at him, his notes sprawled across the table, a sentence remained half highlighted as if Beomgyu stopped midway just to grab Taehyun’s hand before he left.

Which was exactly what he did.

“Yes?” Taehyun asks, turning to face the boy.

Beomgyu looks nervous for a moment, like he was doubting himself and as if he were starting to regret grabbing Taehyun’s hand, but then he takes a deep breath and says “Wait. Don’t go.”

“Why? I’m right here.” Taehyun says, raising a brow.

“I just—” Beomgyu starts, his breathe shaking as he looks down at his hand holding Taehyun’s before looking up at him again. “I think we need to talk.”

“About what?” Taehyun asks, even though he knew exactly what he meant.

“About last Saturday night.” Beomgyu says, his eyes closing as the memory crosses his mind for the millionth time. “About our kiss.”

Taehyun sighs. “Look, I already said it’s fine, you panicked and kissed me on the lips, it was just a stupid game, it was nothing.”

“You know that’s not the kiss I was talking about.” Beomgyu says, a different kiss on his mind. He remembered standing by the bar with Taehyun after game ended, laughing and apologizing about how he had panicked and kissed him on the lips. He remembered Taehyun telling him that it was fine and that there was no need for him to apologize. “And I didn’t panic.” He remembered taking a couple of shots with him, and they asked each other a question every time they took a shot. He remembered asking Taehyun if he minded that Beomgyu had kissed him on the lips, and he said no. He remembered Taehyun asking him if he wouldn’t mind doing it again, and he said no.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“So go ahead and kiss me, Choi.”

He remembered downing another shot and saying “Oh, what the hell.”  Before taking Taehyun’s face in his hands for the second time that night, looking deep into his eyes to see if he really wanted it, before leaning in and letting their lips touch once again.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Beomgyu asks, the memory playing in his mind over and over again.

Taehyun smiles, his heart melting at how unusually vulnerable the usually confident Beomgyu looked. “Alright.” he says, bending down to take a seat at the table, not letting go of his hand. “Let’s talk.”

•°•

Author’s note:

I know it’s a little late :c and I’m sorry cause I’ll be a lot busier these days bc life is suddenly moving again :c but :c Happy Yeonjun day!

[cassandra1447]

Lucifer 5A Thoughts

Lucifer season 4 was great. It had a nice solid plotline, it had great character development for pretty much everyone, I actually thought the Eve-Lucifer-Chloe triangle was done both purposefully and realistically with reasons why all three of them acted as they did, and just generally felt like a breath of fresh air after the mishmash that was season 3.

I had few complaints - a few but not many. 

I was super hopeful about season 5. Guess what I binge-watched this past weekend?

Me:

Cue rant (under cut b/c there are spoilers aplenty and if you liked this season - please keep scrolling)

To be fair: I have only watched season 5 once. 

Unfortunately, I have no desire to watch it again. 

First of all, the lack of creativity.

Maze betrays Lucifer (again for like the 10000th time)

Michael being a jerkass - I’ll grant them his fear mojo, but could you have reached for any other concept than Lucifer vs. Michael? Or give him something more interesting than an ego-problem to fuel his evilness?

Ella’s boyfriend - look, there’s foreshadowing and there’s eye-rolling, damn it really, this guy is clearly only here to serve a plot point and he’s either going to be the victim or the murderer

Ella deserves a genuine good person and good relationship - WTF did you have to do that to her? There’s no point besides hurting her

It would have been better - and more surprising - if he had been a truly decent person even if the relationship ended up not enduring

And then there’s Chloe...and oh dear...

“Being a gift” consternation

Okay, yes Chloe is allowed to be upset and to be struggling with the divine side of things - in fact, I actually liked how they depicted that in Season 4

But in Season 4, when Chloe’s reactions hurt Lucifer, there’s a clear consequence. It’s part of why he turned to Eve, and there are a couple of excellent moments - the part where he confronts Chloe about neither being an angel like she wants or the devil like Eve wants for instance - that showed Lucifer was coming to understand himself and to stand up for his own sense of self to a degree

This time round, we get a lot from Chloe but little from Lucifer aside from him desperately wanting to be with her and willing to do just about whatever she wants to have that 

And unfortunately, whereas by the end of season 4, we definitely get Chloe seeing past the divine bombshells and remembering that she cares about Lucifer for himself - that progress is completely nullified by the “you’re a miracle” bombshell and I didn’t need to see that again

Also - WTF does Amenadiel’s spiel to Chloe about seeing Lucifer truly work on her anxiety over being made for Lucifer? Did I miss something? Chloe’s upset over this seemed to me to be because of a lack of free will - not that she didn’t know who Lucifer was. Why - when free will is such a major deal for Lucifer - was that not discussed? Why did no one - Lucifer for example - come out and say “Humans have free will. Period. You can choose to walk away from me or tell me to go, and I will. I don’t give a damn what my Father did or wants or intends. It’s your choice.”

The “I love you”

I do not get why Chloe doesn’t know if Lucifer loves her. He may have not used the three words but he literally told her the prophecy (his first love) was about her not Eve. Or what about “I would do it again”? Or any of the many actions through which he’s demonstrated that he cares about her, that he values her, that he loves her. 

And okay, maybe she needs those three words to be 100%, absolutely sure, okay. Then just ask him. How do you feel about me? What do you want from this relationship? Where is this going? You know, normal adult questions.

I’m not expecting Chloe to do emotional labor for Lucifer but if she needs something from him, she needs to ask him. I think that’s fair.

It also highlights a problem with Chloe’s empathy for Lucifer IMO - it feels like she’s once again so caught up in her emotional turmoil, she’s incapable of even seeing his. This is someone who literally just returned from thousands of years in hell, who has a family  had cast him out and treated him like the worst, has been vilified by humanity for millennia, and because of all of this has a low sense of self-worth and has come to believe that he’s a monster - love is something Lucifer literally hasn’t been shown in millions (billions?) and until very recently hasn’t been in a position to express love in return - and you expect him to drop an “I love you” nonchalantly?

Again, it’s okay to have Chloe focus on her emotions rather than Lucifer’s. But if I say something hurtful to someone - even if I’m under duress - it’s still hurtful. I still owe them an apology. 

The “not in relationship” evasion

Despite the fact that Michael lying was such a key factor in Chloe knowing he wasn’t Lucifer and Chloe clinging to the fact Lucifer doesn’t, Chloe doesn’t seem to make the connection that telling the truth to Lucifer is essential

One unaddressed factor from last season - Chloe lied to Lucifer and allowed him to think that everything was fine and that she wanted a relationship with him...and then on what he happily thought was a date almost roofied him (at minimum, who knows what was really in that vial).  Lucifer subsequently found out about the plan - so there’s a historical basis for her to lie to him about how she feels (in order to betray him) -  Chloe, he already thinks he’s unworthy of you, he’s already used to people he loves hurting him - you need to be straightforward with him

This includes not evading (or lying) about being in a relationship with him. 

At least she does eventually tell Lucifer she needs time & space I suppose

Mojo switching

Why? Just why? It happened and then it stopped. What?

Various other characters:

Linda:

Why did we only have like 2 therapy sessions? Why did Linda not get to do her job this season? Her sessions with Lucifer did help him grow - why the hell didn’t she help Lucifer & Chloe work through some of their issues

I don’t like having her plot this season revolve around children. It’s a personal thing I know - but it’s such a default plot device to use with female characters. 

Amenadiel

IDK about the timing of filming for this season but it felt really off-key to have a black man depicted as thinking the best way to make the world safer for his son to be aggressively trying to work with the police. Season 4 had an episode that dealt with the endemic racism in our justice system - why in the hell was that not carried into this season? Why don’t we see Amenadiel protesting or volunteering with a local group trying to address the systematic racism? 

Where the hell did the “reflection” thing come from? I never saw Lucifer’s mojo as reflecting, more bringing to the surface what someone already felt/wanted/knew. And even if I buy that - Amenadiel never had people behaving as if he was reflecting love before. Oh and for Lucifer’s mojo, for it to have a visible impact, he generally has to be intending it to (except for when he’s in his devil form). There’s a few examples in earlier seasons where there’s an indication there’s a low level field continuously but nothing like what Amenadiel had happen in the convent. And doesn’t that give Amenadiel two powers (time + love mojo) while Lucifer and Michael only get mojo? 

Maze

Oh look, Maze betrayals Lucifer again. Never seen that before. 

1 freaking episode with Trixie!!! And it’s also the only episode with Lucifer & Trixie and Lucifer being adorable with Trixie and then - oh, it’s not that Trixie likes Lucifer, it’s that she’s being paid by Maze to get information  (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

WTF does Maze believe Michael? He’s a lying liar who lies. I can’t believe Maze would be that stupid. 

God

Just no. 

Previous seasons seemed to be having the message that God isn’t responsible for your life, you are. Lucifer has a similar realization at the end of season 4. So why are you going to muck that up by making God an active participant???

Other things that bug me:

Lack of LGBTQ+ representation

The old-timey bit doesn’t count IMO - Lucifer gender-flipped characters at Trixie’s request so any LGBTQ+ moments aren’t genuine

Lucifer & Maze are attracted to men and women (no defined label - maybe bisexual or pansexual) but there are no moments where either of them actively show it (or someone of the same gender was obviously attracted to them); I think we get a single line about Lucifer having been with both men & women but that’s all I can recall

Is there a single non-hetero couple depicted on screen (that didn’t have to be gender-flipped)? Seriously. I’m asking. 

Ella’s treatment

Already talked about this - but it was blatantly obvious the boyfriend plot served no purpose for Ella herself, just was a way to get this character looped in for other plot purposes

Chloe’s horrible advice to ignore Ella’s internal alarm bells. I don’t - how - what - yeah, feeds into what I said earlier about Chloe being too wrapped up in her own turmoil to be able to see from even a impartial (let alone another’s perspective)

Azrael! Why do you not use this sweetheart of an angel who has an established relationship with Ella? If you had to do this terrible Ella + bad guy plot, then for heaven’s sake, at least give us Azrael to warn Ella? Or something? 

Lilith was good...but where is Eve? There’s not even a throwaway line of “Eve’s in Madagascar” or show some postcards she sent to Maze or have Lucifer check-in on her and say “Eve says hi” - does Eve still exist? It’s not like Eve understand about “being made for someone” and maybe help Chloe, right? 

The Mock-Lucifer show episode -

 if you have an episode in your show that’s parodying your show...it had better be because you work for a secret government agency and it’s being allowed b/c the government can claim anyone trying to blow the whistle got it from the TV show (Stargate fans out there?) - otherwise, no. 

I know Lucifer likes to use the case-of-the-week to mirror what’s going on with Lucifer and the rest outside of the case - but this is too blatant, to the point it feels condescending

I didn’t actually want to know the story of Lucifer’s ring. Officially at least. Leave me some mysteries please, something to speculate about with other fans, something to develop headcanons for, something to write fanfic about - the story itself was fine, but doesn’t seem necessary

Hell Repercussions

Despite Michael using it as an excuse why “Lucifer” was behaving weirdly, once Lucifer is back, there’s little to no indication of the impact Hell had on Lucifer - thousands of years, and he’s pretty much the same as the moment he left Earth

Could have had Lucifer regress somewhat because he no longer had any support structure, was among literal demons who aren’t good for socialization, and perhaps had to revert to a more violent and vicious version of himself

Could have had Lucifer return to being more hedonistic - which would have been a good point of tension with Chloe - because he was starved of anything good in hell and is now trying to soak in as much life as possible (music, drink, drugs, parties, maybe flirting/dancing)?

One thing I did like was Lucifer talking to a human in hell - could have done something with Lucifer trying to help humans who felt guilty for things which shouldn’t qualify for eternal torment - connecting with semi-decent humans in hell b/c he couldn’t go back to Earth and b/c he has more empathy for them now (although I would argue Lucifer has always been kinder towards humans than other angels - look at the very first episode and how he treated Deliah)

Did no one try to contact Lucifer in hell? Amenadiel could have visited, he could have brought letters or messages from the humans in the know...did no one think of that? To help ease Lucifer’s isolation even in the smallest way? It felt like - as soon as Lucifer left - everyone was just like ‘well, he’s in Hell now, that’s too bad.’

What I did like:

Dan

He’s struggling and he knows it, and he’s trying to be a better version of himself while knowing he’s deeply flawed

The scenes with Dan & Lucifer working a case together are some of my favorites 

While I do wish he had recognized Michael’s ploy - in light of his history of doing something morally questionable “for the greater good” and his current self-examination - his reaction makes sense to me. He’s terrified and he reacts very honestly and directly; I think Lucifer would far prefer Dan’s reaction of just shooting him to Chloe’s reaction that involved her lying to him and allowing him hope only to learn she planned on using his feelings for her to allow her to get close enough to use the poison (and send him back to hell). 

Lucifer & Trixie - loved it (up until the elevator scene at the end)

Lucifer’s very practical solution of marking Michael so they couldn’t be confused - brutal yes, but practical 

This turned out way longer than I thought it would. I could be wrong - I did only see it once so it’s entirely possible I’ve missed something or don’t remember something - and I know we’ve got more episodes to come that may improve the season.

But compared to season 4 which had a tight plot that worked in concert with the character arcs, my initial impression of season 5 is overwhelming disappointment. I expected better than I got. 

[hannie-dul-set]

(thirteen times) i love you— 03

— wherein y/n (a hopeless romantic) seems to fall in love with nearly ever guy she meets. so, she writes letters for them to compensate. these letters weren't meant for them to read, but what happens when they all end up receiving them?

03 // dumb excuse

word count: 2.3k

a/n: hello hello, part three is here!! lmk what you think hehheheh 👀✨

part 4 will be on July 16th, 8:00 PM EST!

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masterlist

"Wait, so you're saying, Choi Seungcheol, aka Mr. Boy I Loved # 12, volunteered to help you retrieve your letters back?" Jiyeon asked in disbelief before taking a sip on her carton of milk.

"I know right! God, I don't know what went inside his head for him to decide to help me," you groaned, "What if he's just doing it to make fun of me?" With a whine, you buried your face in your arms.

"I doubt it," you heard Hyerim respond from behind you. Tray in hand, she makes her way towards Jiyeon and takes a seat beside her, "I think he's gonna expose you to his friends first, before making fun of you."

You threw your crumpled trash at her and shot her a glare, "I hate you," once again, you let yourself drown in your arms.

"I'm only joking," Hyerim laughs, "Besides, Seungcheol really is a nice guy. I'm sure he's genuine in trying to help you," you could hear Jiyeon hum in agreement.

You let out a huff, "I hope you're right— I have to meet up with him in a while," you took a glance at your watch— ten minutes until you and Seungcheol had to meet. He agreed to give you back your letter, and afterwards, the both of you were to formulate a plan on how to retrieve the rest.

"Uh oh, you better head out then," Jiyeon remarked, "I could see one of your ex obsessions breaching the perimeter," she nudged her head at one of the cafeteria tables. You slowly turned your head towards the direction, letting out a groan upon seeing your editor-in-chief, Jeon Wonwoo. If he won't confront me about the letter, then he's definitely gonna kill me for not heading to the clubroom yesterday— none of which I'd like to experience just yet.

You grabbed your bag in a rush and stood up, "I'll see you guys later," you bid your friends farewell before briskly walking towards the cafeteria's exit, hoping that the male didn't see you.

You let out a sigh of relief once you reached the hallway. You heard a buzz coming from you pocket and you assumed that was Seungcheol.

[seungcheol: hey im at the tables outside. where are you]

[you: im omw, had to deal with sth just now]

You finally arrived at your destination. You scanned the area for any sight of the male, and you managed to spot him sitting on one of the tables at the far end, tapping away on his phone.

[you: im here]

Immediately, he looked up from his phone. A large smile appeared on his face upon meeting your eyes. He waved his hand, beckoning you to come over, and you followed. You could feel a slight tinge of nervousness as you neared closer to the male.

"Hey," Seungcheol greeted you, a grin on his face and you offered him a tight lipped smile in response. His happy expression morphed into a frown, "What? You still don't trust me?" He pouted.

"It's— It's not that," you bit your lip, looking away from the male, "I'm just embarrassed— that's all," you heard him chuckle at your explanation, causing you to glare at him. He patted his hand on the chair beside him, urging you to take a seat. The glare on your face was still present as you sat down.

"No need to be embarrassed, Y/N, it's all in the past," Seungcheol opened his bag, his hand reaching in for something. In one swift motion, he pulls out your letter, "Here," he smiles at you, "I'm sure you've been wanting to get your hands on this."

Letting out a small shriek, you snatch the object from his grasp, "Oh my god, my baby—" you bring the letter to your chest, a relieved sigh escaping your lips. You stay in that position for a while, not paying any attention to the male that's been looking at you with a small smile on his face the entire time.

"Damn, I knew it was important to you , but I didn't know it meant that much," Seungcheol's voice interrupts your mini-episode. You sneered, "Of course, you wouldn't know," you stayed silent for a moment before facing the male, "But, thank you."

The gentle smile on Seungcheol's face never falters, "No problem," he adjusts his seating position before speaking up once again, "So, what are you planning on next?"

You rested your chin on your palm, your free hand twiddling with the letter, "I don't know, " You sighed, "But as much as possible, I'd like to avoid facing my disaster head-on, thank you very much."

A disapproving sound escaped Seungcheol's lips, "Tsk, that won't do," He scolded you, "You won't be able to accomplish anything if you do that,"

"What else can I do?" You groaned, "I don't exactly have the guts of steel, Mr. Choi Seungcheol."

"That's why I'm here, Y/N," he sent a wink at your direction. God, you really wanted to smack him, but he was right. You won't be able to go anywhere if you don't confront them— that is unless you consider sneaking around and taking the the letters without their knowledge, which you're totally up for, by the way.

Your meeting with Seungcheol sadly got cut short by the bell ringing. The both of you stood up and started to gather your things. You slipped the letter into one of your notebooks— you'll place it in a safe box later when you get home. One down, twelve more to go.

The both of you head inside the school building in silence. Seungcheol tapped your shoulder, causing you stop your legs. You face the male, raising your brow at him as you wait for what he has to say.

"I'll talk to you later, yeah? Tell me if anything happens," he smiled. You gave him a quick nod before the both of you finally parted ways.

Surprisingly, you managed to trek down the hallway without having to hide yourself in another locker or having to run another god forsaken marathon. You hadn't ran into any of the boys yet which is definitely good on your part since you weren't mentally prepared to face any of them yet (Seungcheol was an exemption).

You entered class, and lo and behold, Seungkwan was sitting on the desk right beside the door. You let out a yelp, loud enough for half of the class to hear, and you quickly slapped your palm onto your lips. Luckily, the professor wasn't around yet— with yesterday's events, he probably wouldn't let this one slide.

You timidly shuffled around the classroom and decided to sit down at the very back— not your preferred seat, but you wanted to avoid the male as much as possible. While taking out your things, you heard the screech of a chair from beside you, followed by the sound of someone sitting down. You turn your head to see who had decided to sit next to you, and the moment you saw the person— you paled, eyes widening and choking on literally nothing in the process.

"Don't think you could run away just like last time, Y/N— you have some explaining to do," Seungkwan warned you before giving his attention to your professor that had just made his arrival.

Okay, that was unexpected. You only anticipated three things to happen whenever any of the boys decide to confront you— they'll either reject you (obviously), make fun of your cheesy writing, or profess their love for you in return (highly unlikely). You clearly didn't expect a threat.

For the rest of the class, you could only think about Seungkwan's words. You yourself know that you obviously had to explain things, but how did he know? You mentally cursed at yourself. Focus on class, Y/N, think about this shit later. You weren't gonna lie, this entire situation was really giving off a negative impact on your studies— well, your whole life, in general— but all you could do was suck it up, the educational system doesn't give a fuck about the students' well being, anyways.

The bell rang, signalling the end of your class and the beginning of your ruin.

You raced towards the door, hoping to evade the male's confrontation, but for some reason, the path to the door seemed way longer than it was supposed to be (plus the fact there's literally a large mass of students trying to get out, as well). You had no choice but to accept your dreaded fate.

Seungkwan appeared beside you, holding a tight grip on your wrist in case you try to run away (a good idea on his part). You furrowed your brows. It confused you as to why he was so adamant about having you to explain the reason for the letter. Maybe it could be something else? If so, then it must be really really bad for Seungkwan to act like this. At that thought, your nerves started to surface even harder than before.

Upon reaching the hallway, Seungkwan wordlessly dragged you to a corner. The students that were around gave the both of you questioning looks as you passed them by. The male decided to stop, and without even giving you much time to think, he uttered out,

"What the fuck?"

Your features morphed into a mix of confusion and alarm. What? The male probably noticed your expression, and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Look, Y/N, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it's not fucking funny," Seungkwan glared at you, causing you to flinch. "Vernon approached me yesterday after school, saying he received a letter from you— a love letter, to be more specific," the male's glare doesn't leave his features.

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

You bit your lip, trying to think of the proper words to say, "I—I can explain, Seungkwan—"

"You better," he snapped. "I honestly do not understand you, Y/N. We used to be friends— hell, Vernon even considered you to be his best friend, years ago. I know it may have already been six years, but do you think it's okay to try and lead two people on?"

You stayed silent. You wanted to wait for him to finish before reasoning yourself out.

"Not to mention that one of the two literally used to be the closest with you, Y/N." Seungkwan's tone started to become softer, "He may have left that day, Y/N, but Vernon doesn't deserve the shit that you're trying to pull."

Seungkwan looked at you, waiting for what you have to say. You breathed in, hoping that the male would understand you explanation.

"That was never my intention, Seungkwan, " he scoffed but didn't say anything, "Actually, those— those letters weren't supposed to be sent in the first place."

Seungkwan eyed you in disbelief, "I thought you were smart, Y/N, but that's got to be the dumbest excuse I've ever heard."

"I'm telling the truth, Seungkwan. You were never meant to read that— those letters were written for myself," You explained. It's clear that the male still doesn't believe you, but you persist, "I wrote Hansol's letter after he left for America, I wrote your letter when you rose me up while I was absolutely devastated that he left. Everything inside those letters were true— I really did love the both of you."

Seungkwan didn't say anything, but his eyes remained on you.

"And you were never meant to find out."

It was quiet— the only sound that emanated from the both of you was the sound of your heavy breathing. Seungkwan didn't look at you, his eyes were focused on the ground beneath him. You pressed your lips together, afraid if the male believed your words or not. A sigh escaped Seungkwan's lips, he raised his head and looked at you in the eye.

"Alright," he breathed, "I believe you."

It felt as if a heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders. You were about to collapse onto the floor out of relief (and you really couldn't face him anymore after all of that), but Seungkwan wasn't finished.

"But, that doesn't mean I'm still not mad at you," Your face dropped. What else does he want? Your mouth formed into a frown. The window seemed really tempting right now.

"I'll be honest with you, Y/N. I was actually really pleased upon receiving your letter, but Vernon wasn't," Seungkwan stated, distress evident in his voice and features, "To put it in simple terms— he feels like shit."

You furrowed your brows, "Wait, why?" Seungkwan let out a sigh, his hands started to fidget.

"I don't know what exactly you wrote in his letter, but he says he feels really bad for leaving you," he explained, "I mean, he felt bad even before, obviously, but he feels like absolute shit for breaking your heart without knowing."

Oh no. Your heart fell. You didn't want anyone— especially Vernon— to feel that way because of you. It wasn't his decision to leave in the first place. If anyone were to blame, that was you for literally having zero control over your feelings.

"Listen, Y/N," Seungkwan's stern tone interrupted your turbulent thoughts, "I'm not returning your letter unless you talk to Vernon."

"I was planning on talking to him, anyways! God, I can't just let him beat himself up for that," Your voice ended up being louder than expected, eliciting a flinch from the male before you. You mumbled out a quiet 'sorry' before speaking out again.

"But," You sighed, not looking at the male, "I don't think I'm ready to talk to him yet."

"I'll be keeping your letter for the meantime, then," Seungkwan remarked, "As his best friend, I can't stand seeing him like that, Y/N. But he won't listen to anything I say— he'd only listen if it comes from you."

Your eyes were stuck to the floor as you heard Seungkwan making his leave. You stood there in silence, reflecting on what the male had just said. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh.

You'll talk to Vernon sooner or later, but for now, you have other problems to deal with.

[rpjohnston]

I’m baaack! And starting over with episode 9 of Revue Starlight since I left it unfinished last time. It’s been a long time, so I rewatched episode 7 and 8 to get back on the thread for episode 9. Last time, we finally got more backstory on Hikari and Kirin...Hikari, having lost the Revue in London, was supposed to lose her “glimmer”, the essence of being a stage girl yearning to achieve brilliance. To Kirin’s surprise, her promise to Karen so many years ago saved her resolve...and so, in his desire to witness the new, the unexpected, the brilliant breakout, he offered her the chance to shake up the endless Revue recreations of Daibanana. Hikari’s promise to reach that stage with Karen, transformed into the resolve to protect Karen’s “glimmer”, gave her the strength to defeat Daibanana in the sixth Revue, leaving Tendo in the top spot. At the same time, Hikari faced a new problem: The very system she was fighting IN to protect Karen from the others...would force her to fight Karen herself! Yet she remembers her promise to Karen, to shine together with her upon this stage... *Utena spoilers* I don’t think I noticed before but I think this strongly parallels the themes in Utena, moreso than in even other parts of the show. Utena sought to “save” and “protect” Anthy, as a Prince - within the patriarchal, hierarchical system of the protector and the protected. However good her intentions, her very participation in this system were like daggers to Anthy. Their resolution came when they were able to reach each other as two women in love on their own terms, unbound by the needs and expectations of men in charge of the system. *end spoilers* Below the cut is an explanation of what’s been going on with me since the last time I blogged.

So, before I get started...the elephant in the room. I kinda dropped off the face of the Earth for half a year. Sooo...what happened. To be honest, it’s kind of A Lot and it’s hard to know where to begin, but I guess I’ll start with...I love liveblogging. I really do, and all the days I was gone I’ve felt extremely disappointed. Each day I wanted to start again, but just didn’t feel like I could summon the...general give-a-damn to to do a worthy job. I was letting myself down and everyone who reads these by not doing anything, but I’d be letting everyone down by doing a terrible job, too. 2019, especially, has really been a Year of Shit. Fighting with people, especially my dad, moving from a house to a townhouse, finances never getting better, a friend dying, old wounds that have been simmering for years...hell, a few weeks ago, one of my friends for over half my life just suddenly ghosted me without a word. Between being exhausted by paid work, volunteer campaign work, things collapsing in between and general apathy, I haven’t been able to do much but sit around. And on top of all that, to be absolutely honest...I felt like I’d completely screwed up Episode 9 last time, on top of my quality deteriorating over time. Episodes were taking me over 4 hours to do, I was exhausted trying to cover every single thing I watched, my blogs were getting tedious, and then, in a period of time that was particularly bad IRL, I went and tried to do episode 9 so drunk I nearly fell asleep on my keyboard. It was a mess. And when I do that, I almost always wake up, sober and regretting every single breath I took and thing I said, and so I...ran away and took the blogging with me. The whole enterprise became associated, in my mind, with yet another colossal screw-up so I hid in shame. It’s been so hard to shake that, even half a year later. But...I still love doing this, damnit, and I WANT to do it, and so...I’m back ^_^ To be honest I wanted to get this one knocked out before Christmas but it just didn’t come together. These last few episodes will probably be shorter than before, and I may need some time to find my groove again, but I hope I will entertain nonetheless!

[bleedingcoffee42]

Eureka AU- Part 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

No pause to research.  Only write.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roy was mentally operating at a level he hadn't operated at in years.   His mind was fueled by fear, something he hadn't experienced since his teenage years when his career and future hinged on the decisions of others.   Thankfully Dr. Knox and Dr. Marcoh were not intimidated by him.   He had already thrown a tablet across the room and shattered it for denying him access to Riza's military records.   He had been close to putting his fist through a very very expensive piece of equipment when Knox had thrown him into the wall and told him to stop lashing out and start thinking.   Prove he was the smartest fucking person in the goddamned building.  Stop being an asshole to everyone trying to help.

Still, there were no answers and Riza's condition was getting worse.   Knox had no information about the vaccination, Raven knew nothing just quoted protocol and 'you don't have clearance for that' when Knox asked for Riza's complete military file.  Marcoh had pulled microscopic residue from the vaccination syringe but  it had already been contaminated by the Sharps container.   Phone calls to the military would get him nowhere and he instinctively wanted to keep this all in house.   So he said 'fuck it' and ordered his best IT guy to hack the fucking military and get him her files.   Fuery was working on it, but almost everything he could find had been redacted.

He stood in the observation room with his hand on the glass and looked in the intensive care room at his wife.  Temperature was climbing, there was fear of internal bleeding, she was in pain.   He ordered Knox to go get some pain reliever and the doctor tried to argue with him and lost.   So when the door opened and Knox came in the observation room instead of going in to administer the drug he was downright irate.

“Shut up, kid, and let me talk.”  Knox said and walked over to him.   He doubted Mustang knew about the pregnancy, he didn't think Hawkeye was in the sate of mind to walk in and drop a bomb on him like that.  Not from the look on her face when she left his office.    “How much did she tell you when she got home?”

“I told you, “ Roy hissed.  “All she said was that it was a booster of some kind and Raven brought it with him.”

“Anything else?” Knox asked.  

“I don't have time for twenty questions, just ask me.”  Roy spat.

“She's pregnant.” Knox was going to break it to him easy, but he was being a dick.  He saw Roy's reaction, shock and disbelief.   Good.    “She found out when she came in for the vaccination, I gathered this was not a planned pregnancy.”

“No..I...” Roy felt his mind go blank.   Something that never happened and he wondered if that was what death felt like.   He couldn't even stammer out a response.  

“Normally I wouldn't say anything, except that you're about to start giving orders and ordering me to carry out your wishes.  I'm the doctor, not you.”  Knox raised the syringe.  “Anything we do for her from here on out is going to be in her system and possibly pass through to the baby. “

Roy closed his eyes.   “So the booster came with enough information that you didn't have concerns about giving it to her?”

“I had the data sheet and it said it was fine.”   Knox said.  “It was a booster and already in her system.  However any treatments at this stage of development are a concern going forward.”

“She's in pain.” Roy said.   That wasn't what Knox was asking.  He was asking for consent from the baby's father to proceed with treatment.   “We both understand that whatever is going on is putting her life at risk.   Elevated temperature, heart rate, bleeding.   I'm not going to withhold proper medical care because of a baby.  I accept that means we might lose a life, but it's better than two lives.”

“Are you sure you want to make this call without consulting her?”

“She's in and out of consciousness.”  Roy said.  “I'll shoulder that burden, do what you need to do Knox.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roy had a team working on a cure.  A team of the best scientists in the world.  A team that was still at a loss as to what they were dealing with.   So he sat by his wife's bedside and felt useless.

Fuery couldn't come up with her records, which made him suspect Raven.  There was no reason a 1st Lieutenant would have a file that was above his own clearance.   Especially since he had seen the file on her in order to select the town's new Sheriff over a year ago.  It was part of her hiring process, he had seen everything from her academy test scores to her list of commendations and personal after action reports.   That was all still there, but a deeper look into the actual combat she had see had resulted in a suspicious lack of results.   Either Riza Hawkeye's profile was fabricated and there was holes to be found after the cursory glance or someone was trying to hide something.  

He looked at her sleeping and listened to all the machines beeping around them.   He certainly didn't question her.   His wife was the genuine article, however he felt it in his heart that someone was counting on him to question her.   Their decision to keep their marriage quiet from the outside world, to avoid a name change, seemed like it may have all been a wise move now.  He was certain that Raven didn't make the connection that they were married, and Roy made sure to never imply she was more than the Sheriff.   Riza wouldn't volunteer that information either, not unless ordered.  

He leaned over and took her hand hand held it to his lips to lay a kiss on her knuckles.  Right now he was feeling an ache in his heart and it was from a piece that had been missing for almost three years.   From before he met Riza, from the Sheriff before her; Maes Hughes.

He wished more than anything his best friend was here right now, to help him investigate this possible corruption in the military ranks and to be a shoulder to cry into.  Tears formed in his eyes as he thought of his friend, murdered in the line of duty as he uncovered moles in Eureka planted by Raven's predecessor, Fessler.   Now it seemed like it was happening again, another soldier turned politician trying to use the advancements made here for his own gain.  Another expendable soldier sacrificed for someone else's greed.

He didn't talk about Maes much, to anyone.   He had, of course, told Riza about it when she asked why the position had come available.  That was when they first met and of course it had put them on the wrong foot.   He went for a long time without a replacement Sheriff, but when the military pushed back hard enough he had to relent and give them what they wanted: their own representative in a position of authority within the town.   He wiped a tear away as he thought about his first meeting with Riza and how she almost shot him for overstepping his authority.   Back then their first case was Shou Tucker's chimera clusterfuck and he had Riza had butted heads on how to handle the situation.   Roy, of course, wanted to keep his scientist in Eureka instead of unleashing him into the world, Riza wanted to send him to federal prison for murder.

He kissed her hand again.  If Maes had been there he would have nudged his arm as Riza pointed a gun at his chest telling him to back the fuck off.   They compromised, under gunpoint.   Tucker would remain at work under supervision, his daughter would be put in a foster home.    They would all stay in Eureka and the incident would just be a footnote in history.   In that moment back then all he could think about was how much he missed Hughes as Sheriff because they would have never had that stand off.   In this moment, he knew Hughes would be telling him it was a match made in heaven to have a woman who would not take his shit.   The kind of wife he needed.  

Well he needed her.  He needed a cure too.   He needed Hughes to be able to work his fucking investigative magic and find out what Raven was up to and what exactly he dosed Riza with in order to get what he wanted.   In a flutter of helplessness he considered asking Elric to use his damned necromancy portal to bring back his best friend to help him work this out.

Then it hit him.   Elric.  That child prodigy running loose downstairs in hos own labratory was his often literally earth-shattering ideas, was who he needed.   That kid's resentment of the military had to have spawned some projects  to counter it's corruption.   His ideas were outlandish and he had such an atypical way of thinking that even without having a medial doctorate he could see something they were all missing.   He took out his phone, wiped his eyes and composed himself.     He called Ed.    

“What do you want, Mustang?”

“I need your help.” There was silence and Roy looked at his phone to make sure he wasn't hung up on.  “Are you still there?”

“Yeah....I just didn't think that was a four letter word in your vocabulary.”

“Just meet me in the infirmary.”  Roy said and hung up.    Then he felt Riza stir and immediately put his phone down to lean closer to her.  “Hey, how are you feeling?  Do you need more painkiller?”

“Roy.”  She felt horrible.  In ways she never thought possible.  

“I'm here.”  He said and hovered closer.   She was so quiet.   His mouth went dry and he felt tears start to well up again.   “I need to ask you something, it's really important and I know you're going to tell me it's confidential and we really don't have time for you to debate on ethics with me.”

“I need...to tell you something.”  She said and bit her lip.   Why did this have to happen now, of all times.

“I know.”  He said and the tears fell.  

She looked at him and they exchanged glances.   Of course he knew.  He would have been pouring over her medical records and tests.   He knew she was pregnant.  Hardly the magic this moment deserved.   “I was going to tell you.”

“Later OK?”  He said and squeezed her hand.  “We'll do it all over and I promise I can be just as surprised when you tell me.”

“I'm not quite in the mood for sex on your desk right now.”  She nodded and closed her eyes. She head him sniffle instead of laugh.   She had to be in bad shape.  

“Hey, stay with me.”  Roy said and squeezed her hand.   “It's really important that I know where you were stationed, what campaigns you were in.”

“Roy, if you're asking...we both know I can't tell you.” She opened her eyes to ask him not to push this subject.

“If you were part of some special operation I don't have clearance to know about...I understand you not being able to tell me.  But this vaccination booster, it implies a previous vaccine required for an engagement you participated in.  I need to know when and where so I can track down the original information.”

“Roy...I swore an oath.”

“Is there some other way you can tell me that won't compromise your integrity?” He plead.   She would take this secret with her to the grave and Raven knew it.  Duty above all else.    He saw her hesitate, her eyes dart away, an indication that there was something.  “What? Please, Riza, tell me.”

“I kept a journal.”  She said.   “It's in my foot locker.  There is a small pistol gun-safe with my service weapon.”

“The code?” He asked.

“0611”  She said and he kissed her.  She could see him crying and knew she didn't need to ask how bad her condition was.    She was dying.  

“Don't worry, I got this.  Maybe you'll start respecting me for my brains and not just my body after I save your life, huh?”

She smiled.  Their little joke.   It was said without humor though, his voice was cracking.   “You're still not a medical doctor.”

He started crying and had to look away so he didn't drop hot tears on her face.  “I swear I'm going to go to medical school just to spite you.”

“You are really good with people.”  She said and closed her eyes.   She was so damned tired.   She wanted to console him, she hated seeing him upset, but it was too much.

He wiped his eyes and placed a kiss on her forehead.   Then he turned around and saw Edward Elric staring at him, wide-eyed behind the glass of the observation room.   He tried to compose himself as he left his wife's side to go in there and talk with him.   This kid who he had battled from day one, this kid he never showed a sign of weakness to.   Now he would beg for his help if he had to.   He walked in and said, “So how much did you hear?”

“Everything that implies you think the military is behind this.”  Ed said.  He didn't give Mustang any shit, the man was a mess.   Emotionally, physically...hardly recognizable.   He looked human.  Wearing a shirt without a tie, no three piece suit, hair a mess.   Red eyes and snot dropping from his nose.   “It doesn't take a genius to see that this would be the perfect murder.   Get rid of a witness to something that might condemn a military officer.   If Hawkeye didn't come home to you, we would have found her dead in her office today.  What do you need me to do?”

Roy had to rub his eyes to stop from crying again.   “I'm going home to get an exact time and date from Riza's journal.    I'll call you with that information, take it to Fuery and have him find out what the fuck went down.   What these soldiers were injected with.   Then I need you to help Marcoh and Knox think around the typical avenues and come up with ideas about how this technology can be warped by a corrupt military official to cover his tracks.”

“I can do that.” Ed said.  

“Use whatever resources you need, but under no circumstances engage with General Raven.” Roy said and Ed's eyes lit up, a fire of anger burning behind them as he finally put a name to the face behind this.   “Raven's trying to kill my wife, I need you to find out what he has to cover up.  I have no evidence, Ed.”

“Yet.”

Roy nodded.  “Thank you.”

Ed went to leave, his own mind racing around the information just dropped in his lap. He put his hand on the door and paused.  “You...don't think this has anything to do with what Hughes was working on...do you?”

Roy had purposely shut that door in his mind when the thought occurred to him.   Hughes was dead, Riza was dying.  There was time to investigate that when she was safe.   “It occurred to me, but right now Hawkeye is our priority.  She doesn't have much time.”

“Then go home and get me that information.”  Ed snapped and left.  

[olboypacman]

4. False Hope (Trigon, the Benevolent)

A/N: Still don’t own Teen Titans. This one-shot contains a concept I plan to expand on in a different story. Don’t want to drop too many hints in an A/N, so I hope you all will stick with me.

Azarath had been invaded.

Augustus, the brother of Trigon, in his bid to take the title of “The Terrible”, had amassed a considerable force of allies to his side.

However, Augustus had underestimated his opposition and spread his efforts incredibly thin and had fought a war on three fronts (on earth versus the Titans, versus the army of Azarath, and versus Trigon himself).

The last Azar had foreseen the coming threat from Trigon’s kin and had militarized Azarath. No question the decision was met with great controversy, breaking the many thousands of years of the precedent of being a pacifist realm. Many in Azarath (including other members of leadership) had blamed the threat on Azar’s, and more specifically, Raven’s and Arella’s connection to Trigon. But contrary to what one may think of the people of Azarath, many men and women had volunteered. In doing so many were disowned by their respective families, friends and shunned in public as pariahs due to their choice to defend their world.

Trigon had come across the sight of the main conflict. He walks the area; littered everywhere is the bodies of demons, Azarathians and scorch marks where the forms a of certain type of flame familiar (which Trigon is very familiar with) would be if they weren’t vanquished. Eventually he comes a across the fortified walls and gate of the main entrance of the metropolis of Azarath. In front of the gate is a contingent of a few dozen Azarathians, guarding the gate no doubt because of the recent conflict. A figure in white comes to the head of the crowd.

Arella…

Her usual white cloak and leotard is strewn in cuts and caked in dirt and blood. That of foe and friend alike one would wager. A look of sullen determination is on her face; her usual expressive blue eyes dull to all they survey, full lips in a thin line, her black eye brows creased in concentration. Upon noticing the approaching Trigon, the hard look on her face immediately melts replaced with relief. She drops the spear and shield she was holding and sprints to the encroaching demon. Her hood falls as she runs toward Trigon, shoulder length black hair now subject to the wind.

Reaching him she throws her arms around his body squeezing his him as hard as she can. He responds by wrapping his arms around her.

“Is Augustus… Is he defeated?” she asks breaking the embrace.

“I took care of him.” Trigon says sullenly. “My brother is…” he hesitates, “was trounced.”

Taking in his appearance she notices Trigon isn’t without wear himself. His body is bare for all to care to see. His slender yet muscular body littered with cuts and bruises from a very recent battle. His red hands having a small amount of dirt on them.

“How are things on this front?” Says Trigon.

“We managed to push them back. They didn’t reach breach the walls. The contingent we faced was mostly those fire familiars. They were incredibly hard to fight back. I’d imagine their sudden disappearance was the result of their master meeting his end.”

She looks to Trigon for confirmation of the theory. He nods in the affirmative.

“We lost more than a few good people today. I will honor their memories with the other soldiers, I don’t know if the populace would celebrate what was sacrificed today. The surviving soldiers are surveying the city for any holdovers of Augustus’ forces, we’re guarding the gate to make sure none approach from the front.” Arella’s eyes begin to tear up as she looks away from Trigon. “I hope I never have to deal with anything this horrible again. Those demons I’ve killed… I know I had to defend Azarath, but…” she pauses. “I felt the life leave them as they died, Trigon. Not just them, but that of our allies as they died too. I’m not sure I could ever do that again.”

Trigon pulls her close once more, laying a kiss to her chakra stone. “You’re safe, my love. Azarath is safe. And unless I miss my guess our daughter is safe.”

Tears still falling she shoots Trigon a smile, not bothering to correct him calling her his ‘love.’

A commotion among the soldiers catches their attention.

It appears a figure in regal, grey robes is barking orders and complaints to the soldiers.

His already older appearance magnified by the grimace on his face. His teeth going up and down as if gnawing, dripping on his grey bread spittle is being spewed carelessly as continues incessant bellowing.

“Councilman Younger!” Yells Arella, “what’s the meaning of this?”

“Angela,” he spits contemptuously, “as if I owe you an explanation.”

She scoffs, “It’s Arella, councilman, and as long as I sit at Azar’s chair, you will answer to me. Now explain!” She says leaving no room for argument.

“’Arella’”, he condescends using air quotes, “as if you’ve ever lived up to the name. Quite the opposite it seems. Carrying on with HIS kind. I still maintain this is your doing. Laying with demons.”

“Younger I suggest you tread lightly.” Warns Trigon.

“Is that a threat, demon?” The elder councilman spits.

Trigon snarls bearing his teeth. “You think I know not your role in this entire ordeal.”

Councilman Younger scoffs indignantly, “Now you levy claims against me, and speak to me as if you have dominion over me.” Younger spits at Trigon in disgust. “To what proof do you have?”

“Your aura’s seeping of that of a demonic influence. My brother’s influence.” Trigon invades Councilman Younger’s personal space, putting himself directly in the elder’s face, “And my dominions are well known to me councilman, thank you.”

The elder councilman turns white as sheet.

His anxiety assaults Arella’s senses immediately. She signals a few of the soldiers over to where they’re standing. Councilman Younger and herself had had their differences in the past, but to betray his own realm?

“Councilman, please tell me, did you betray us to Augustus?”

“I would never betray Azarath he declares. Clearly this demon,” he says spitting once again, “is…”

“And what is it I’m going councilman? Bewitching denizens of Azarath for an effort for power. No, I abandoned any desire I had for power long ago.” Responds Trigon.

“Is this true councilman?” Asks a soldier. Several other among the dozen or so soldiers are mummering among themselves.

His anxiety mounting at the accusation, Younger flairs what little of Augustus’ power he has creating a shockwave knocking everyone present off their feet. He chants a small incantation, suppressing the magic of all present. He produces a dagger and he lunges for Arella, taking her hostage.

Everyone present returns to their as soon they can, the soldiers setting their weapons at the ready.

“Everyone stand back, or she dies!” Yells Younger, pressing the blade to Arella’s throat.

“Lower your weapons, please,” says Trigon.

“Whatever damage this traitor does, can your healing ability not heal it?” Asks a soldier.

“No, look closely at his blade, it’s runes are specifically made to counter act demons. There’s nothing I’d be able to do for any wound inflicted by that blade.” Says Trigon.

“Councilman Younger, why have you betrayed us,” asks Arella sadly. Tears pooling once again, she continues, “If I die today, I at least deserve to know.”

“Your position, dear Angela. For you to become the lead of our people, not being native and consorting with and siring demons was the ultimate insult. I’ve spent more than half of my life working my up through the political system. With nothing to show. And then Augustus showed up, he promised me the reigns over Azarath, once it was conquered. All I had to do was let him in our relam.”

“You’re the one who weakened the barriers of our world, allowing our enemies in. Your people died today because of your treachery Younger!” Cried one soldier.

“Of course, I was the one of the elder mages who built the damn barriers to protect our world from their kind.  It was I who let in Augustus to infect the unborn Raven with Trigon’s influence, ensuring the sires prophesy would come to bear. It was I who let Augustus in when he killed Lady Azar. And was I who let in the army that attacked our world today. Those men and women were necessary sacrifices, and the lot of the others would’ve been had things gone to plan. Lady Azar had clearly lost her way, breaking thousands of years of traditions, allowing complete outsiders, demons even in to our world. And to cast her favor, not on me who gave many, many years of good service to the good Azarath, but to some demon, his abomination of child and his whore companion.” He sneers in look of revulsion. “We needed new leadership. Who better than I. She got what was coming to her. Her affection for you demon,” Younger gestures at Trigon, “I’ll never understand for as long as I live.”

Trigon begins to laugh.

“And what is so funny, demon.”

“You, pathetic little Azarathian. And what, you think you would lead these people into prosperity. In your bid for power, in your bid to protect the world you love, you’ve become that which you hate. Have you not realized what my brother’s influence have done to you? Do you not think you being manipulated? Had you ever considered that my origins lie in Azarath?” Having enough of the being holding his love hostage, he flairs a fragment of his soul-self. Entrapping his hand before Younger can ever realize what’s happening.

“But the incantation!?” Screams Younger.

“Quells and numbs magic. My soul-self isn’t magic, you old fool. And you’ve left yourself completely defenseless.” Trigon approaches Younger, pulling Arella from his hold. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I just need this day to end.” Says Arella tiredly.

“What’s to be done with Younger?”

Signing, clearly knowing what she responds, “Do what must be done…”

“Xavier,” Trigon calls to one of the soldiers, “please escort Arella home if you would.”

“No problem, sir.”

“Will you come to see me?” Asks Arella before she makes her way to gate.

“I will, later. I’d like to visit Raven after this.”

“So be it,” she says, taking her leave.

“Now for you, councilman. That spell of yours should wearing off soon.”

“Now as a matter of fact. Prepare…” Before Younger can finish his thought, the remaining soldiers chat a modified incantation of the one he used earlier. The modification: Younger is sole target of magical nullification.

Knowing what he’s facing, Younger begins to cry, snorting and begging for his life. Falling on deaf years, the soldier begins to leave. Leaving Younger to his fate, alone with Trigon the Terrible.

Trigon’s second set of eyes open as they begin to glow a sinister red. The hand of the councilman covered in Trigon’s soul-self begins to glow and heat in a roaring blaze enveloping his whole body as Trigon begins to chant an incantation of his own:

Succendam ignem extinguere urat animam meam carnem et ossa sit satis. At ego ne consistere tuo in novissimis cinis est folliculi pertineret huius ambusti corporalis. Hoc quamdiu anima ardeat sambucae, terribilis atque incensa odio Scath Azarath personam existit.*

The fires then intensify, Younger’s begging and crying becoming inhuman wails. Trigon opens a portal to an uninhabited dimension sparing the realm of Azarath form the further taint of Elder Councilman Younger.

A/N: Boy was this a chore, I ended up re-writing this this thing about 6 times before I was satisfied with a final version. I hope you guys enjoyed it!!

*Translated from latin: Enflamed soul of my existence ignite the fire that will extinguish his flesh and bones soon enough. But do not halt thy self when the last ash of this physical husk is scorched. For this fire will burn his soul for as long as Trigon, the Terrible, Scath himself and the burning hatred of Azarath personified, exists.

 Check out this and my other writings at: https://www.fanfiction.net/~olboypacman

[shamansantics]

That One Time Someone Told Me Millennials Were Unemployable And I Replied With What I Should Have Written On My Resume

Guy on My Facebook Group: Let me tell you something about millennials... I know this is a wide net to cast, but still... most of that generation is unemployable. I'm a hiring manager for a top national corporation, and, no less, 14 of 15 applicants are unemployable for anything other than jockeying a register for minimum wage. It saddens me, deeply

Me: a. Millennials are the people from 1980-2006, that makes the oldest 37 and the youngest 11.

b. Incredibly frail emotionally and in their self-view doesn't happen as a result of being coddled (most of the time). It happens as a result of being abused. Millennials are the least likely of any generation to mislabel abuse as "tough love" and the most likely to acknowledge how crappy the way they've been treated makes them feel.

You may see the symptom but it would be hubris to assume you know the cause. Calling it "coddling" without actually asking any of the people you're judging how they've lived is jumping to conclusions.

c. I'd argue that the "inability to communicate their thoughts or articulate ideas" or to do "basic mental tasks, like basic math without a calculator" is less a sign that Millennials are dumbasses (and, if they are, it's the older generation's fault for being incapable of educating them in a way that makes them learn instead of want to commit suicide). Instead, I'd say that they are unable to communicate their thoughts or articulate ideas in a way that makes sense to many members of the older generation.

There hasn't been a sudden drop in IQ. If anything, study after study proves that people are getting smarter. Millenials are the most educated group of people the world has ever known. EVER.

But the prevalence of the Internet and the ways schools work has shifted the way this intelligence is manifested. Today's young people may be crap at mental math, but who needs to be good at it when there are calculators on phones, laptops, watches and they are pretty much never inaccessible?

Young people can easily search for a tiny nugget of relevant information amidst a tidal wave of useless info - a skill formally known as "Google-fu". They can navigate a heavy flow of content without getting confused and have an excellent visual AND audio memory, which is why they'll remember that they saw this meme 4 months ago, listened to this Vine 6 weeks ago and not reblog it even though they see like... 9000+ memes a day.

T)-(3Y A!S0 P0Z3S T)(3 AB1L33TY3Z T0 M4K3 S!NC3 0F !NF0Mr4710n Pr3Z3NT3D 1N 4N UFN4M1L14R F0rM4TZ QuIK!Y.

(They also possess the ability to make sense of information presented in an unfamiliar format quickly).

They assimilate new information rapidly. They recognize familiarity in new situations and synthesize it automatically. They focus on the message instead on the medium and so don't NEED to give a fig if the spelling if off, the grammar is wonky, or - as shown in the example above - if half the letters aren't even letters or placed in the right order. They glance at it and it makes sense. Why? Because their ability to ORGANIZE information in their minds is damned good. They may not have invented 733t5p34k (that says "leetspeak") but they use it like bamfs (that says "bamfs").

If they can't "prioritize an itinerary or list", it's because they haven't been taught how because people are too busy dismissing them as dumb instead of teaching them the skills they lack. Because one thing Millenials DON'T lack is the ability to quickly learn. Unless, of course, the method used isn't user-friendly or intuitive, as is often the case in many MANY office environments determined to continue doing supremely ineffective things just because they've been done that way for ages. (One of my first jobs was filing the print-outs of emails into a binder. Talk about irrelevance.)

If Millennials are slow, it's because they're learning. Then they're faster than you because they made an app to do the work more efficiently than they could manually. Millennials are damned good at optimisation, simplification and acceleration.

They're also deeply emphatic, being capable of understanding a WIDE and complex range of emotions in the form of simple emojis, to the point of being able to have entire conversations where less than 20% is actually comprised of words. They can do this because they are capable of deducing tone and mood from subtleties like punctuation (or lack of it), caps and the time it takes to get a response.

And this makes them socially conscious, being more concerned with issues of injustice and oppression affecting a wide-range of people than any generation before them. That's why Millennials also tend to be social activists and, overall, they volunteer more than any generation has before them.

Go figure, that's how communication works in the fleshworld too where 80% of the message is non-verbal, represented in facial cues and silences and tone and body language rather than words. GO. FIGURE.

This attention to detail and strong interpersonal skills is also why Millennials tend to be such awkward ducklings. They're sensitive and rightfully so. If you can tell that an Internet friend whose face you've never seen is in a bad mood because they're not using enough caps, they're using too many ellipses and they took just a tiny bit too long to type out "I'm okay", you can DEFINITELY tell when your boss standing right in front of you is snubbing you, mocking you or thinking ill of you, even if they're not saying it out loud.

With heightened sensitivity to people's non-verbal that is learned by communicating online comes heightened sensitivity to people's non-verbal. That means when people are being a jerk to Millennials in the Fleshworld, THEY CAN TELL even more easily than they can when it happens in the Networld. And yes, it hurts their feelings.

Unlike the older generations who thought it was uncool to acknowledge that their mental health exists, Millennials know very well that their mental health exists (many of them having sought out and received diagnosis for their mental illnesses) and it is IMPORTANT to them that they heal. They want to stop hurting. They want to stop being depressed and anxious and stressed. They're not ashamed of having feels (even though it stresses them to know it's still socially unacceptable to have the aforementioned feels for some reason). Why should they be? They're human.

So yeah. That Millennials are dumb is a myth. That they can't communicate is a lie. They're not incapable of communicating and I would even argue that they communicate DAMN well. They just do it in a manner YOU don't understand. Because times have changed.

Oh and, most importantly, within the next 10 years they will be the vast majority of the work-force which automatically means that they're not unemployable because if they were, the economy would collapse and it would be the Financial Apocalypse.

There is no such thing as an unemployable generation or group of people. What does exist is people who are unwilling to look at a group's strengths and give them tasks adapted to their skillsets, instead trying to force round pegs into square holes and mocking the pegs viciously for not fitting in with a system that was never designed for them in the first place.

Millennials are the rising tide in a world that is going to have to forcibly adapt to their strengths and compensate for their weaknesses - just like was done during every other inter-generational shift in power, by the way. And this will happen whether the older generation wants it to or not because, within the next decade, Millennials will be the most acting members in both society and the economy.

#mic drop and ollies out

[mastcomm]

Australia’s Volunteer Firefighters Are Heroes. But Are They Enough?

BATLOW, Australia — Most of the fires Michael Blenkins has put out since becoming a volunteer firefighter in the 1980s required little more than rushing to a nearby farm and hosing down ankle-high flames. In and out in maybe an hour, then back to work as a teacher.

When he persuaded his eldest son, Edmund, to join the rural fire brigade at 16, he thought less about danger than camaraderie.

But in Australia, climate change and the huge fires it fuels have obliterated the old normal. Instead of the usual three or four days a year, the Blenkinses have been fighting fires around their mountain town, Batlow, on and off for a month. They have repeatedly put in 12-hour days. And the danger has been immense: On Jan. 4, they nearly died in a firestorm.

“There were flames kicking up everywhere,” Mr. Blenkins, a formal man with an even manner, said one recent day, a dress shirt peeking out from under his firefighter gear. “It was like the Titanic — we thought we were prepared to handle it, and we weren’t.”

For more than a century, Australia has managed the landscape by drawing on the altruism and kinship of its people. In challenging terrain colonized after the United States, it was not the mythical cowboy who tamed the Australian frontier; it was the egalitarian collective, farmers working together to protect the land, with fire as the primary threat.

That culture of shared responsibility across a sparsely populated continent still holds. Even on the worst fire days this season, around 90 percent of the firefighters battling blazes have been volunteers like Michael and Edmund Blenkins, a ratio unmatched in any other developed country where wildfires rage.

But their agonizing efforts reveal more than just the help-thy-neighbor bravery that has won Australia’s volunteers global acclaim. Their experience also points to the risks, tensions and burdens of a new bush-fire era. Fire experts describe what’s happening as a new phenomenon, which the country is confronting with a firefighting strategy from the past.

Climate change has made an arid nation even more combustible and deadly. Today’s blazes are monstrous omnivores that have charged through more than 43 million acres of forests, small towns and coastal suburbs since July, according to Australia’s Department of Home Affairs, with around 100 fires still burning.

“I can imagine no system that could handle as many fires, and as intense fires, over such a breadth of country as Australia has faced this long, long season,” said Stephen Pyne, a fire historian at Arizona State University. But, he added, “the brigades were designed for a different time and set of conditions.”

The toll on firefighters is mounting: On Jan. 23, three American crew members were killed when their firefighting plane crashed in the Snowy Mountains; 11 firefighters in all have died this season. And climate scientists predict that future years may be even worse.

Prime Minister Scott Morrison has promised that Australia will adapt to the threat through technological change, but he has ruled out moving away from fossil fuels or sharply reducing the country’s emissions. Instead, after being sharply criticized for a delayed response, he has preferred to work around the edges of the problem, with more money for aerial firefighting and calls for investigations into bush-fire management.

Many firefighters are now demanding a more ambitious re-evaluation. Some want compensation and professional training. Others want better equipment and more help with preventive burning of undergrowth, along with tougher building standards, and maybe even a carbon tax that would raise money to bolster firefighting and reconstruction.

What they agree on is that something has changed. A few days of firefighting have turned into weeks and months, and with summer not over until March, the work is not yet done.

Batlow is typical of the towns contending with the new conditions, if a bit better off. Unlike many of its rural peers, the apple and logging town of 1,300 people has a growing population. Its fire brigade has about 30 members, including a half-dozen younger recruits like Edmund Blenkins, who are rare finds in shriveling towns where most firefighters are over 60.

The brigade’s equipment is also much improved. On a recent afternoon, Bob Bowman, 82, a former president of the brigade, flipped through a soft blue notebook holding minutes from its first meetings in 1944.

“At first, you just showed up with what you had,” he said.

Now the brigade has two small trucks and a Class 1 tanker that can pump out 400 gallons of water per minute. With the heat of recent fires, parts of that off-road beast are now melted and deformed.

In its first three years in service, before this season’s fires, the truck’s pump registered 36 hours of use. In mid-January, the gauge showed 88.

“We are all seeing firsthand the incredible risk of massive fires, with their ability to take out cities, thousands of homes and damn near an entire country,” said Frank Lima, a vice president with the International Association of Fire Fighters. “With so much on the line at all times everywhere, relying on volunteer firefighters — as brave as they may be — is still a tremendous risk.”

On a national scale, firefighting veterans worry about a lack of consistent quality and training. There is no annual physical fitness or emergency driving test for volunteer firefighters. Some brigade leaders have been known to hesitate because they are not sure the people on the truck can handle an aggressive fire.

Firefighters in the area where the Americans died on Thursday also complained that middle managers had been too quick to downgrade fire threat levels, leading to greater risks when the blazes resurge.

For individual firefighters, the pressure to accept it all quietly, to be the stoic hero, can be overwhelming. Volunteers must balance the fires with work and family. There can even be pressure from neighbors for special treatment, and complaints if their homes are not saved.

Then there is the firefighters’ own property, which they often leave behind to save others’.

More than a week after the terrible fires swept Batlow on Jan. 4, the Blenkins family still had not moved back into the rambling white ranch they call Grand Oak. It lost power and barely escaped total destruction, with blackened grass stopping just a few feet from the walls.

One evening, after a full day putting out spot fires, Mr. Blenkins and his son, along with the rest of the family, worked until dark trying to protect their property from another bad stretch of heat and winds.

Edmund Blenkins, 19, used a tractor to push away charred debris near the burned and buckled shed holding his father’s destroyed 1959 Vauxhall. Michael Blenkins, 49, and his younger son, Atticus, 14, pulled trees and branches away from the house’s deck.

“I’m just doing it again,” Mr. Blenkins said. “I did this a few days ago.”

His eyes drooped with exhaustion. After giving up a government job in the late 1990s, he had become a high school teacher, principal and, eventually, president of the fire brigade. When it was time to flee the fires the first time, his wife grabbed a painting of the family. Michael took ties, dress shirts and a suit.

Edmund Blenkins, an electrical apprentice at a local timber mill, carried himself like a soldier, competent beyond his years. He also harbored more anger than polite company would welcome.

“I’m worried about him,” said his mother, Sulari Gentill, a novelist originally from Sri Lanka who moved to Australia when she was 6. “He’s so young to be dealing with this.”

Then she shared what her husband and son had hesitated to divulge: On Jan. 4, they had thought they were going to die.

It was just after 2 p.m. when the fires starting tossing embers and the wind began to whirl. Calls for help shifted from the hills to town as Roger Watkins, the apple farmer behind the wheel of the tanker truck that carried the Blenkinses, sped into the burning epicenter.

“This is it, boys,” Mr. Watkins said when they reached the eastern side of Batlow, where several homes were ablaze. “Group hug.”

Grass and house fires were coming from every direction. For hours, they controlled one fire, then raced to another. At one point, feeling trapped, Michael Blenkins jumped to the back of the truck. He pulled the hose from the center of the vehicle, where he normally stood, so he could be next to his son when the end came.

“It was like having a cage of fire all around you,” Mr. Blenkins said. “We couldn’t leave — we were the only ones there.”

Most of the crews from nearby towns had already left. As volunteers, the brigades deploy themselves. Some believed their own communities were threatened by fires; others panicked or thought Batlow could not be saved.

The Blenkinses’ crew escaped several close calls, then continued fighting fires until 3 a.m., with the last house sending off the rank odor of asbestos.

It was all a sign of Australia’s volunteer system being tested by new extremes.

Volunteers all over Australia quietly admit in interviews that they have felt at times as if they were fighting against hell all alone. Pay, they say, matters less than training, competence and candor about what they are facing, not just now but in the future.

“We’ll be fighting these fires for months,” Edmund Blenkins said. “If it’s not here, it will be somewhere else. And then there will be more.”

Isabella Kwai contributed reporting from Sydney, Australia.

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/australias-volunteer-firefighters-are-heroes-but-are-they-enough/

[wishingfornever]

1/3/18 – No Contact:  This Stranger

It’s midnight.  I have to wake up in… six hours.  No such thing as victims, only volunteers.  My dad told me that.  I fucking hate that quote.

I binge watched Markiplier’s playthrough of DDLC (Doki Doki Literature Club).  I really should play it myself but I haven’t opened steam for months.  Or at least, I haven’t played for months. Guess I should stop watching Youtube as well.  I mean, I watch a lot of gamers.

Still, DDLC is nice… it makes me sad.  I think of Esther a lot.  Think of myself, too.  I like poetry… and in the comments, there are more poems.  I’m glad.  More people are publicly sharing poems.  Are they good?  Eh, not many are but to each person… it’s a gem.

Listening to the ending song of DDLC…  I’m concerned.  Concerned that my depression is coming back.  I wanted to die at work.  That wasn’t me just saying I felt horrible.  When I said, “I wanted to die” I wasn’t being overly dramatic.  I fantasized about killing myself. It was the only answer to what I could have done.

Before the party… every now and then, I’d imagine a robber coming into the store.  He’d demand the money and I’d tell him he could have it if he could just shoot me in the chest.  Try to reason with him that I’d get fired anyways.  If I would or not, hard to tell.  I just want an out.  I can’t do it myself because… well, my family would hate Esther.  More than they already do.

Maybe… the end of the year.  Or next year.  Or the next.  Sometime in the future, I’ll probably do it soon.  It’ll be alright.  If I leave a note saying I did it because my life hasn’t amounted to anything, then perhaps that’d suffice.  It’d remove some of the blame from Esther.  I could probably do it sooner.

Of course… why do I even care?  She doesn’t care about me.  And I doubt she’d ever bump into my dad or sister.  I care about such petty things… I hate it.

I’m gaining weight again.  I know it.  I can feel my pants… they’re tight.  If I lost weight, it’s just water weight.  I should have kept my plans to myself.  I probably won’t be able to enlist at all.  I’m such a fuck up.

Oof. Look at that.  Keeping plans to myself… that’s not the purpose of a journal.  And this is still a journal.  Just an open journal that anyone can read.  A full year’s delay.  And… what does it detail?  Sandwiches?  Dumb movies?  Glimpses into my fucking insanity?

I’m the monster Esther knows me to be.  And… maybe she’s the only person to know it.  I’m sure Diana isn’t afraid of me.  She pities me.  Ariel… she is so kind.  She isn’t afraid of me.

Strangers… they fear me.  They see me and think I’m horrid.  At least, they used to.  Now… I’m called so kind.  When I was wanting to die, these two very attractive young ladies… they were in college.  One said to the other that I was so kind.  I would never ask them out… I hate my own face.  I hate my own voice.  But… I was called, “kind.” Only seconds before… I was thinking how easy it would be to just stab my chest.  I was comparing the cuts on my wrist with the pain I feared… tolerable.  But this is different. I’d have to be fast.  Have to avoid bone.  Plunge straight into my heart, otherwise I’d hesitate and make a mess.  It’d be obvious.

I don’t have the strength for that.  Maybe… open my veins? No. Stop it.  Stop thinking this way.

I’m not going to kill myself, at least not yet.  Not until this is at least posted with a guarantee with updates.  Open journal.  Besides… Adela would have to clean up.  If I kill myself in Adela’s house, it’d have to be clean.  No mess.  No blood.  Preferably, no body.

I want to vanish.  Die in a ditch somewhere.  John Doe can be my new name.  Adela won’t have to recognize the body if I’m just “John Doe.” I need to stop.  I’m unwell.  Why am I so unwell?  I’m crying… weak tears.  Not a stream.  I can fight them.  I need sleep.  I’ll talk again after work.  Might be late, though.  I need a haircut, so sayeth my mother.

I need a hole to hide in.  x.x

Current time is 4.

I look at my mom.  I look at a stranger.  This makes me feel guilty. I’ve become so disassociated with… well, everyone.  I’m not very close with my family but they think they’re close with me. They’re not.  The closest person was Esther…  She was the only person to see me cry.  And she’s gone now.

So, I’m not close with anyone.  Not anymore.

Just got off work.  It was long and dumb.  My least favorite manager has the worst breath.  Maybe not the literal worse, but god damn it stinks.  I don’t like his smell nor do I like his attitude or views.  I disagree with him on everything, from his humor, to his politics, and to his odor.

Diana worked.  Didn’t think she did.  I feel like such a pest.  This morning, I felt like I was going to have a panic attack.  I’m still not good.  On the way home, I was considering throwing myself into traffic but the problem is I would survive.

Not healthy thoughts.  Though, I’m not at risk.  Just… thoughts.  I know when I’m at risk when I get this… tunnel vision.  Unhealthy stuff.

I feel I’m descending into my old self again.  Been pigging out.  I way 243 so I technically lost a pound.  Problem is, that was probably all water weight do to severe dehydration.  I’m also believe I may be depressed… but I don’t get to be depressed.  Esther said that’s no excuse.  So I guess I’m not depressed.

Ironic… The day after the party, I worked and thought Dennis walked from behind me.  Had his stereotypical short, fat guy walk.  It wasn’t Dennis, of course… but I thought it was him.  It comforted me.  I feel better when I black out among friends rather than strangers. Kind strangers, but strangers nonetheless.

I feel… abandoned.  Not by Esther, though she has abandoned me.  I feel abandoned by the world.  I feel lost.  I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.  I don’t know why I’m doing it.  Why do I feel so bad?

I think I’ll feel better when my mom leaves.  It’ll be like it always was.  Just Adela and me, sometimes meeting on the second floor.  Formalities are exchanged but we leave each other alone.  No obligations.  With my mom… well, she exhausts me.  She nags a lot. This morning, before I left for work, she insisted I take this camu camu pill.  It’s supposed to boost my immune system.

I threw it on the table and left it.

[oselatra]

Frank Scott Jr.: the unifier

The Little Rock native wants to bring a divided city together.

This is the second in a series of profiles of the candidates for Little Rock mayor. "You look at a lot of folks I grew up with who are either dead or in jail or not on the right path. I could've been just like them. That's something that sits with me. I don't forget where I come from, hence the reason why I haven't left where I come from."

As vice president at First Security Bank, Scott's daily commute takes him from his home off Chicot Road in Southwest Little Rock, along Interstate 430 and through the still bustling development of the western stretch of Cantrell Road to the bank's Little Rock headquarters at Ranch Drive. Scott says the drive is a daily reminder of Little Rock's inequities.

"We still have deep-seated racial issues in our city that have not been effectively addressed because we haven't had a leader that truly understands all aspects of the city. We haven't had a leader that can build bridges in the city."

Scott's longtime friend state House Minority Leader and Rep. Charles Blake (D-Little Rock) said Scott has a background that's unique among the field. "There's a different scope when you've grown up in a system, benefited from the system and seen how it's hurt you, and know how city government works, how politics works, how south and north of I-630 work."

Scott points to economic development and diversity and inclusion as areas he's particularly qualified to address. In some ways, for Scott, those are two sides of the same coin.

"This city represents close to 50 percent black and brown brothers and sisters," he said. "When you look into the highest levels of business and commerce, it doesn't reflect that, particularly in leadership and management positions. A number of cities in the South have made greater strides in terms of diversity in the marketplace: Birmingham, Atlanta, Charlotte, Dallas and Memphis."

As mayor, he says he'll be "chief growth officer" for the city. "The mayor has to make certain the city of Little Rock becomes a business-friendly city." He sees his clients getting businesses going or deals done in Northwest Arkansas in two to three weeks, whereas it often takes two to three months for his clients in Little Rock to make similar projects happen. He says if elected he'll form a red tape commission to try to eliminate impediments to growth. Little Rock needs to do more to grow its own and take care of existing business owners, according to Scott, but it also should do a better job recruiting. He plans to aggressively target small to mid-sized companies with headquarters in cities with direct flights to and from Little Rock. [content-1]

Some critics have wondered if Scott, because of his banking career and connections from his time on the Highway Commission, might be too in thrall to establishment business interests and the Little Rock Regional Chamber of Commerce.

"I'm going to be very blunt," Scott said in responding to that assessment. "I'm going to be the chief growth officer. I'm going to lead on economic development. I'll be the driver and the chamber will be in the passenger seat." As for being too connected with business interests, Scott said he'd be a candidate of the people.

He's similarly blunt when asked whether he would like to see Little Rock become a "strong mayor" city, where the duties of the city manager become the mayor's. "I'm running for mayor for the existing form of government," he said. "I'll be the CEO. I'll look at the city manager as a COO. I think it's the mayor's job to cast a vision for the city, ... create a legislative agenda for the city and work with my COO and the city board to make sure we pass things ... and implement it with agency staff. I'm not running to cut anybody's ribbons."

***

Scott credits his mother, Brenda, for making sure he got the most of his educational opportunities. He remembers her waking at 4 a.m. to wait in line to apply for him to attend Horace Mann, then a magnet junior high, and later making sure that he applied to attend Parkview Arts and Sciences Magnet High School.

Scott kept up with his studies, played tight end and defensive end in football and studied modern dance and ballet in junior high and high school. He said he was drawn to dance when he heard football stars of the day like Ki-Jana Carter and Rashaan Salaam had taken classes to help them with their footwork, but, "I also realized I'd get to hang out with more women," he said with a laugh. He namedrops famed dancers Vaslav Nijinsky and Isadora Duncan and says he's still got a plié and fondu in him and remembers ballet's first, second and third positions, but he's yet to demonstrate them on the campaign trail.

At 14 years old, Brenda gave birth to Frank Jr.'s older sister. Frank Jr. came along six years later. To support the family, while the couple were still teenagers, Frank Sr. unloaded boxes at Safeway and Brenda worked as a secretary. Frank Sr. went on to become a longtime Little Rock firefighter; he retired a few years back. Because Brenda had to provide for the family during and after she attended high school and wasn't able to continue her education, Scott said his "mother made damn certain that I went to college."

He attended the University of Memphis and majored in business. While there, he volunteered for prominent local Democrats like U.S. Rep. Harold Flowers Jr. and pioneering state Rep. Lois DeBerry. During his senior year, his classmates voted him Mr. University of Memphis, an honor given to outstanding campus leaders. Scott was the first person in his family to graduate from college.

After graduation, he managed a Target distribution center in Maumelle and, when he began supervising the weekend shift, his schedule allowed him to become a fulltime volunteer on Mike Beebe's ultimately successful first campaign for governor in 2006. After the election, Scott joined the Beebe administration as a policy adviser, eventually becoming a senior policy adviser and director of intergovernmental affairs.

Kurrus and Sabin have often been identified in the race as the policy-minded candidates. Scott may not talk about it as much in his campaign, but he was a policy wonk during his time in government, working on infrastructure issues and what became the private option, Arkansas's initial unique version of Medicaid expansion, Beebe said.

"He could delve deeply into an issue and dissect it and point out the pros and cons and potential pitfalls," the former governor said. "And he had the ability to look forward and around the corner ... at what might be the next issue that some policy would suggest. He was a deep thinker, but he was also pragmatic."

At night during his time working in the Beebe administration, Scott got his master's degree in business administration from the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. He left the governor's office in 2012 to become a vice president at First Security Bank, where he focuses on commercial lending and strategic development.

In 2013, Beebe appointed Scott to the Highway Commission to finish the term of John Burkhalter, who resigned to run for lieutenant governor. Scott was 29, which made him one of the youngest appointees to the highway commission — and also one of the few black appointees. Scott hadn't helped bankroll Beebe's campaigns, either; highway commission appointments traditionally have gone to major political supporters. "He didn't fit the mold of highway commissioners, but that didn't bother me because I understood how smart he was," Beebe said, adding that he'd been pleased with Scott's tenure on the commission, which ended in January 2017.

But Scott has taken plenty of flak from others for one vote in particular during his time on the commission: his support of the 30 Crossing project that will replace and dramatically expand the I-30 bridge over the Arkansas River and reroute traffic through downtown Little Rock.

Scott said it was important to him, when considering whether to support the project, to know that it wouldn't adversely or disproportionately affect minority communities in the East End and Hanger Hill. "Being a son of a mother who walked the Ninth Street corridor as a young kid, I know the history and past of 630," Scott said, alluding to the I-630 project decimating a once-thriving center of culture and commerce for African Americans in Little Rock. "When I was figuring out whether I'd support 30 Crossing, I wanted to make sure 30 Crossing was not 630," Scott said. Satisfied that it would not be, he pushed to make sure that the public had ample opportunity to weigh in. Those public comment sessions helped improve the plan, he said. "The original project was not good at all. The current project, after a number of iterations, is it perfect? No. Is it good? Yeah." Scott said 30 Crossing was necessary to keep the 125,000 people who travel the corridor every day safe. "We don't want to be Minnesota," he said, referring to the 2007 collapse of the I-35W bridge over the Mississippi River, which killed 13 people and injured 145.

As to another form of public safety that's captured more attention in the mayoral race, Scott said crime in Little Rock isn't a disease, but rather a symptom of the city not addressing poverty and education. While he's glad to see the department make strides in filling vacancies, he said the city would need to work hard to fill those positions that, through general attrition and retirement, were likely to come open in the next years. He wants the force to be fully staffed in order to create a culture of community policing, in which officers aren't just patrolling in their cars, but also on foot. Asked if investigative stops, which earlier in the year had become a favored tactic of the Little Rock Police Department, constituted community policing, Scott said, "Heck, no. Community policing is getting out of your car and saying, 'Hi, how're you doing?' " LRPD officials have described investigative stops as community policing in the past.

"I've got a suit and tie on today," Scott said. "When I have some [Air Jordan sneakers] and jeans and my LR hat on, and I'm downtown for brunch on the weekend, I may be treated differently [by police if I'm stopped]. We have to have a police force that understands Little Rock and its identity and understands the need for implicit bias training and de-escalation techniques training." Scott also said he would advocate for the creation of a review committee independent from the police force to consider allegations of police misconduct and police-involved shootings.

Mayor Mark Stodola and the Little Rock Board of Directors have come under fire for not advocating more forcefully for the Little Rock School District. "Within city leadership, we should no longer be silent on educational issues," Scott said. He said he would push to get the Little Rock School District back under local control, adding that once that happened, he would be involved in recruiting candidates to make sure the school board was as strong as it could be.

Last week Scott rolled out an Opportunity Agenda for education. "What I've learned as a banker, the only way you can only have influence over something you don't own is by becoming a strategic investor," he said. To that end, he's proposing that the city fund a summer reading academy to focus on grade-level reading. It would work in partnership with the LRSD, the Central Arkansas Library System and the Arkansas Campaign for Grade-Level Reading. "We know that if a child isn't able to read by the time they're in third grade, we're gonna lose them to the streets," he said. The agenda also includes plans to establish a chief education officer to serve as a liaison between the city and the LRSD and focusing on truancy, which has become rampant in some LRSD schools.

Asked about charter schools, Scott said it was clear they had an "effect on the LRSD," but said they were a state issue. "As a mayor, I have to make sure that all schools are positive and there's no segregation. I don't have a problem with charter schools ... until they start to cherry-pick."

***

Scott was in his 20s and working in the Beebe administration before he ventured into the Hillcrest neighborhood. A co-worker said, "Let's meet after work on Kavanaugh" and Scott remembers, saying to himself, "'Where's Kavanaugh?' I grew up never going north of Park Plaza Mall." That sort of geographic isolation often tracks with race and poverty, but Scott noted that the growing West Little Rock population is increasing its diversity, but its residents are often reluctant to go downtown. He thinks a reimagined War Memorial Park could "serve as a bridge-builder for the city." He's in favor of repurposing the golf course from 18 holes to nine and building Little Rock's version of Central Park, possibly with a youth sports complex included.

If there's a central theme to Scott's campaign it's that he's the person who can unify Little Rock. "We've got all these issues before the city, but if we don't start making significant strides from being disconnected to connected, nothing else matters. That's my why. I've got policy for days. I'm a policy wonk. I can give you all those answers." But Scott said the city has to be healed first.

When he gets on a roll, it's easy to imagine Scott delivering a sermon. He's an associate pastor and lifelong member of the Greater Second Baptist Church. He preaches at Greater Second Baptist at least once a month and every two months at the Department of Correction's Tucker Max unit. Because of that background, some have wondered if his notion of equality would extend to LGBT issues. "I'm running to unify the city," Scott said in response. "That doesn't only include race or culture; it includes sexual orientation and gender identity. In Little Rock, you have to have one city ... and I'll be a staunch supporter for equality."

Frank Scott Jr.: the unifier

[politicalfilth-blog]

Nanny State: A Permit Patty and BBQ Becky In Every Neighborhood

Who needs paramilitary police with the legal authority to shoot you at will, when you’ve got crazy citizens like Permit Patty?

It seems like a disturbing new trend: the rise of busybody code-enforcers. Or, as I call it, slave-on-slave crime.

It’s also called Stockholm Syndrome. These miserable victims of the state have learned to take pride in reinforcing the matrix of arbitrary rules and regulations that make life more difficult for us all.

The video of a woman calling the police on a mother and her young daughter for selling water bottles on a street corner went immediately viral last week:

  While some called it a blatant example of racism--and it very well may have been--it’s also a troubling sign of the infantilization of America’s adults.

Dispute-resolution is an extremely valuable skill in any society--so, unsurprisingly, you probably didn’t have a class on this in high school, or even college--definitely not in college.

To the contrary, schools are the root source of what’s created these oversized babies who’d rather call 9-1-1 than negotiate solutions, or mind their own damn business.

As one writer for FEE noted, the public education system is the crown jewel of an authoritarian “country.” You know a nation has finally perfected human enslavement when it subjects children to regimented indoctrination, behavioral programming, and forced brainwashing.

Indeed, every layer of the public school system is diabolically designed to turn the human spirit into a withered shell of what it once was and could be.

From requesting permission just to speak, to wearing dehumanizing uniforms that kill individuality, it’s hardly a surprise when fully grown children like Permit Patty go viral.

With a phone pressed to the side of their sanctimonious faces, this army of volunteer state minions get to feel like their local police--tyrannical psychopaths.

Self-funding a trip to Disneyland by selling water bottles on a sidewalk? How dare you teach your child about work ethic and entrepreneurship!

Having a casual barbeque with friends because why the hell not? Nope, can’t do that in Amerika.

A local 12-year old is running his own business this summer cutting lawns and cleaning up yards?

Quick, someone call the cops!

Enjoying a harmless water-gun fight in your neighborhood?

Think twice, criminal!

  Ironically, the so-called “peace officers” usually arrive on the scene to exacerbate the situation. The female officer in the above clip ends up falling flat on her face, prompting utter chaos that simply didn’t exist moments before. At least she fell before she had a chance to kill a dog.

What’s encouraging, still, is that these acts of intolerance often end up backfiring, like the boy whose lawn mowing business was boosted after the attention he received, or Permit Patty resigning from her company due to the social media backlash.

Perhaps if people were taught how to handle situations as adults---rather than summoning armed and dangerous state agents every time there’s a minor dispute---society would learn that self-governance trumps a gun to the head.

Oh well. While these self-righteous, nosy ass neighbors continue their never ending campaign to complain, soon, we’ll be transitioning into a freer future where the state is rendered obsolete.

By using non-governmental cryptocurrencies and forming ways for people to settle disputes and coexist peacefully, blockchain technology is enabling us to create a new world, where Permit Patty will have to settle for annoying and ruining the lives of just her close friends and family… while guzzling down her antidepressant meds and blaming “the patriarchy” for not getting laid, instead of the real culprit: Doritos.

In our stateless society, BBQ Becky won’t be able to call the local mafia to come extort and kidnap on her behalf… because there won’t be one. In fact, these pesky nuisances may inevitably have to be careful that their despicable actions don’t land their names on a Bitcoin assassination list.

If you want to live in a world with a busybody meddling on every corner, be my guest. The rest of us are building a friendlier, way more fun civilization based on mutual respect and individual rights… while taking the gun away from the Permit Pattys and BBQ Beckys of the world, without them even knowing what happened.

You’re welcome to join us. Check it out at Anarchapulco.com.

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Anarcho-Capitalist.  Libertarian.  Freedom fighter against mankind’s two biggest enemies, the State and the Central Banks.  Jeff Berwick is the founder of The Dollar Vigilante and host of the popular video podcast, Anarchast.  Jeff is a prominent speaker at many of the world’s freedom, investment and cryptocurrency conferences including his own, Anarchapulco, as well as regularly in the media including CNBC, Bloomberg and Fox Business.  Jeff also posts exclusive content daily to the new blockchain based social media network, Steemit.

from The Dollar Vigilante https://dollarvigilante.com/blog/2018/07/03/nanny-state-a-permit-patty-and-bbq-becky-in-every-neighborhood.html via The Dollar Vigilante

[investmart007]

LONDON | A year on, horrific Grenfell Tower fire haunts Britain

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LONDON | A year on, horrific Grenfell Tower fire haunts Britain

LONDON — In the shadow of London’s Grenfell Tower, the pain is as fresh as the newly laid flowers for the dead.

One year ago, the residential high-rise was destroyed by a fire that killed 72 people. It was the greatest loss of life in a fire on British soil since World War II, a horror that left the neighborhood and the country in shock.

On Thursday, survivors, bereaved families and people around Britain are marking the anniversary of a local tragedy that’s also a national shame — one for which blame still is being assigned and traded. Was Grenfell a tragic accident, the product of government cost-cutting and lax safety standards, or authorities’ disregard for people who lived in public housing?

“I don’t see this as a tragedy. I see it as an atrocity,” Hissam Choucair, who lost six members of his family in the fire, told a public inquiry last month.

For the somber anniversary rituals, survivors will gather near the base of the tower’s shell before a nationwide minute of silence at noon. There will be vigils and marches across Britain, while landmarks will be lit up in green, the color of remembrance adopted after the lethal fire.

“We want the nation to keep Grenfell in their consciousness,” said Yvette Williams of local campaign group Justice 4 Grenfell. “The anniversary is about love and support — the fight can start again on Friday and Saturday — and keeping that humanity going on that day.”

A year on, the west London neighborhood around Grenfell echoes with sounds of construction. The ruined tower, which stood for months like a black tombstone on the skyline, is covered in white sheeting. A green heart and the words “Grenfell forever in our hearts” are emblazoned at the top.

Notice boards and walls nearby carry hand-written tributes, expressions of sorrow and promises of resolve: “RIP to the fallen”; “I love my Uncle Ray”; “RIP Yas”; “We won’t fail!”

Flowers, candles, and well-worn teddy bears that were left in memory of the dead are tended by local volunteers. A note from Prime Minister Theresa May, attached to a wreath of white roses, promises: “They will never be forgotten.”

The fire broke out shortly before 1 a.m. on June 14, 2017 in the kitchen of Behailu Kebede’s fourth-floor apartment. Kebede woke the neighbors on his floor and called firefighters, who soon arrived.

High-rise apartment towers are supposed to be designed to stop apartment fires spreading. But within minutes, the flames had escaped Kebede’s apartment and raced up the outside of the 25-story tower like a lit fuse.

Many residents fled, but some on the upper floors observed official fire-safety advice and stayed put. The fire brigade changed the guidance at 2:47 a.m. By that time, the building’s only stairwell was smoke-filled and treacherous.

Several people died trying to get out. Others perished in their homes as they waited to be rescued, or died in neighbors’ apartments where they’d taken shelter. Three people were found dead outside, having fallen or jumped from the tower.

Rania Ibrahim, who died with her two young daughters on the 23rd floor, broadcast her final hours of fear and prayers on Facebook. Mohamed Amied Neda, 57, who had fled the Taliban in Afghanistan to build a life in Britain, left a voice message for his family: “Goodbye, we are leaving this world now, goodbye. I hope I haven’t disappointed you. Goodbye to all.”

By the time the sun rose, a building that could be seen for miles around was a blackened, smoking shell. Hundreds of people were homeless and dozens were dead, though the destruction from the heat had been so great it would be months before police were certain of how many: 70 died that night, plus a premature baby, Logan Gomes, who was stillborn later that day. Maria del Pilar Burton, a 74-year-old resident of the 19th floor, was hospitalized after the fire and died in January.

Local government workers, police and volunteers rushed to help, setting up temporary shelters and bringing clothes, food, money and help for the hundreds of people displaced from the tower and nearby buildings.

Grief was soon joined by anger — at local authorities in Kensington and Chelsea borough, which owned the building; at the tenant management organization than ran the tower; and at Britain’s Conservative government, seen as distant and uncaring.

Many residents said they had complained about safety and poor maintenance and were ignored because the tower was home to a largely immigrant and working-class population. A public-housing block in one of London’s richest boroughs, a stones’ throw from the pricey boutiques and elegant houses of Notting Hill, it came for many to symbolize a divided and broken Britain.

The anger is still visible on the walls around Grenfell. Mixed in with tributes to the dead are the words “TMO = terrorists” — a reference to the tenant management organization — and expletives directed at the prime minister.

May acknowledged this week that the government had been too slow to act. She vowed that survivors would get “the homes and support that they need and the truth and justice that they deserve.”

After the fire, the government immediately promised to re-house all those displaced within three weeks. But some residents spent months in hotels, and many are still in temporary accommodations. May said Wednesday that 183 of 203 affected families have accepted offers of new homes, though most have not yet moved in.

A judge-led public inquiry finally got underway last month. It will take 18 months and look at the fire’s causes, the response to it and Britain’s high-rise building regulations. But some survivors are critical because it won’t investigate wider issues around social housing and social policy.

Already, the testimony has been damning. A report by fire safety engineer Barbara Lane listed multiple safety failings, including the flammable aluminum-and polyethylene cladding installed on the tower’s facade during a recent renovation.

Stephanie Barwise, a lawyer for some of the survivors, said the cladding helped flames spread “more quickly than dropping a match into a barrel of petrol.”

The safety failures at Grenfell have national implications. More than 300 towers around Britain have similar combustible cladding. The government says it will spend 400 million pounds ($530 million) stripping the cladding from publicly owned high-rises.

Questions have also been raised about whether lives were lost because of the fire department’s “stay put” advice.

Police are considering corporate manslaughter charges in the blaze, but no one has been charged.

Tony Travers, a professor of government at the London School of Economics, said the disaster was likely the result of “a systems failure” rather than a single cause.

“It’s likely that there will not be a single guilty person or institution, but more a chain of events that together led to a catastrophic failure,” Travers said.

Even if the inquiry identifies causes and who deserves to be held accountable, the formal review is unlikely to end Britain’s soul-searching over a disaster with victims from 23 countries — taxi drivers and architects, a poet, an acclaimed young artist, retirees and children with bright futures.

“Ill fares the land that left these people to be so exposed to such trauma and such death,” Danny Friedman, a lawyer for some of the bereaved families and survivors, told the inquiry.

“In the end,” he said, “the Grenfell Tower fire is an example writ large of how inequalities of political, legal and economic power can kill people.”

__

By Associated Press

___

[joronomo]

4 Dreamers Who Deserve To Be Deported For The Crime of Being Brought Here By Their Parents

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4 Dreamers Who Deserve To Be Deported For The Crime of Being Brought Here By Their Parents

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You may have heard the recent announcement by the Trump administration that they plan on removing the protections of DACA – the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals – a policy implemented by the Obama administration that allowed individuals who immigrated to the United States illegally as minors to receive protections from deportation and become eligible for work permits. The program was enacted to offer protections to individuals who were largely raised in the United States and could not be held accountable for the actions of their parents – and because it would be cruel to tell someone who was brought to the US as an infant that they had to leave for nebulous immigration law reasons, particularly since they were simply people raised in the US, indistinguishable from legal citizens except for their immigration status.

On top of that, there are strict guidelines for DACA – it must be renewed every two years, you must be in school or have graduated high school/gotten your GED, and cannot have committed any felonies or serious misdemeanors, so the individuals who qualify for DACA have significantly lower crime rates than the rest of the population.

Still – they have committed the most heinous crime of all: NOT TELLING THEIR PARENTS THAT BRINGING THEM INTO THE UNITED STATES WAS HIGHLY UNETHICAL. 

1. Here comes the story of a true CRIME INFANT, now going by the pseudonym “pcaedus” on Reddit, who left this damning admission of their criminal choice to remain in the country with their parents, instead of dutifully exiting the United States as a 4 year old by themselves:

DACA recipient here. Came here at 4 from the Korea, 22 years of age now. Grew up through the US education system, never left the US. Graduated last year with a Nursing degree and managed to land a full time nursing gig in a great hospital in the city.

I pay taxes, I have my own place as of last month, got a bunch of great lifelong friends and a fantastic GF, but now I can only legally work and stay here until 2019 when my DACA stuff expires. Then I’m forced to say goodbye to everyone I’ve ever known and start a new life with my skill set somewhere else.

It’s easy to demonize us, say how we don’t belong here, how we should go back where we came from. I’ve had PMs telling me I should kill my parents, others saying how I should spite them, how it’s their fault and I should hate them for it and blame them for their actions. My point is every one of us DACA kids have our own stories, our situations are different. We did come here legally. My parents were sponsored by a corporation in the UK. They screwed them over by cancelling their work visas after. At that point they had already settled here and had investments that tied them down.

At the end of the day they gave birth to me and yes, what they did was unlawful but it’s also because of them that I was the first in my entire family to graduate college. My parents worked hard to give me my education. They scrapped by with cash jobs. We’ve lived in basements and now they’re business owners. It’s hard to understand from my perspective but I’m not going to hold it against them after all they have given me.

The truth is some of us DACA recipients give back so much to US society, we’re new graduates, we hold prestigious degrees from ivy’s, we’re Doctors and Nurses, firefighters, engineers, architects… some of us are even in the military.

I was planning to continue my post-bach education here but unfortunately this is the harsh reality for us if Congress doesn’t do anything in the next 6 months. I’m fortunate for all the experiences I’ve gained here in the US and the memories I have from here will stay with me for a lifetime.

Look at this REMORSELESS admission of crime – it’s almost as if they don’t regret self-deporting themselves as a 4 year old and instead building a wonderful life in the so-called “land of opportunity”! Disgusting.

2. And then we have Jesus Contreras – who was complicit as a 6 year old in his mother’s crime of illegally immigrating to the United States JUST for “a better life” and “to escape a horrible and dangerous situation at home.” And what’s he up to now? ILLEGALLY acting as a paramedic and saving lives in flood-ravaged areas around Houston:

Jesus Contreras, a Houston-area paramedic, barely slept this week. There wasn’t much time for rest after Harvey started pummeling southeast Texaslast Friday. Too many people needed his help — diabetics, cancer patients, elderly folks trapped in their homes.

Contreras camped out at a fire station when he wasn’t rushing around in an ambulance. He didn’t make it back to his house in Spring, a suburb north of Houston, until Thursday afternoon.

Contreras arrived in the United States with his mother when he was 6. They had come from Nuevo Laredo, a city in the Mexican state of Tamaulipas, where their lives were strained by a “violent situation at home.” The promise of a new life in America was partly about “getting away from my dad and the things he was involved with in Mexico,” Contreras said.

He came of age in Houston, working hard through high school and college while volunteering at his local church. He earned his paramedic certification at a community college last year and soon got to work — something that would not have been possible without DACA.

Imagine the gall – saving TRUE AMERICANS as someone who LEGALLY should not have even been there in the first place. If it were me drowning in Houston, I would have said “no thanks” to his illegal attempts at saving my life and died like a REAL PATRIOT.

3. Excuse me while I hold in my vomit – meet Larissa Martinez, the admitted CRIME LORD who confessed in front of everyone that she was UNDOCUMENTED (in her valedictorian speech, because she represented the best of us – someone who strove for her goals and fought to achieve all she could. Also, she’s heading to Yale btw):

This is what happened after a Yale-bound valedictorian in Texas revealed she is an undocumented immigrant:t.co/YamQEsiKjt

— Mic (@mic) June 9, 2016

Terrible – she committed a grievous crime of coming into a country she wasn’t born in just to work for a better life. Unlike us real TRUE Americans, who went through the effort of being born here already.

4. Juan Escalante is your classic ultra-criminal with no redeeming qualities whatsoever – he and his family came into this country WITHOUT ALL THE PROPER PAPERWORK IN ORDER and then he went on to study hard, get a Master’s degree, and work as an immigration advocate. In other words, this guy is pretty much John Dillinger but even worse. Here’s what Juan “Crime-Doer” Escalante wrote in a Medium post:

Imagine being 11 years old, and after living in the United States for over ten years, you are consistently reminded that you would not be able to accomplish much due to your immigration status. That you wouldn’t get a job, go to college, or be accepted in the country that you grew up in due to your immigration status. That is, of course, after graduating from high school, trying to navigate the country’s broken immigration system, and paying taxes.

Then, years later, the U.S. Government comes along with an opportunity for you to pay a fee, undergo a background check, meet particular requirements, and surrender significant amounts private information in exchange for the ability to temporarily shed your fear of deportation, work, and drive. This is exactly what the DACA program did for me, and countless others, give us an opportunity to contribute back to the country that saw us grow up.

Knowing full well that DACA could not give us legal permanent residence or U.S. Citizenship, hundreds of thousands of Dreamers like myself spent the last five years working across the United States. Thanks to DACA, Dreamers have been able to build their lives, go to school, and invest in the economy by buying a home or a car.

And then later was profiled by the New York Times (although maybe it should be called the New York CRIMES, am I right?):

I was working an unpaid internship in 2012 when I caught word of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) announcement via Twitter.

I ran to the office lobby, turned on the TV, and immediately knew right then that life would not be the same. I called my mother in tears and proceeded to tell her that my brothers and I would be able to benefit from a program that would temporarily shield us from deportation while allowing us to work and drive legally. I understood DACA was a temporary program that would not cover parents, but it renewed my commitment to fight for relief for the rest of the immigrant community.

Since that day I have taken every opportunity to grow, learn, and contribute back to my community. In 2013, DACA allowed me to re-enroll at Florida State University and pursue a Master’s degree in Public Administration. By 2014, I was in the middle of working a job in Tallahassee, Florida, studying for my master classes, and advocating at the Florida Legislature for a bill that would allow undocumented students to obtain in-state tuition at state colleges and universities. In a rare display of bipartisanship, the bill passed and was signed into law by Florida’s Republican Governor, Rick Scott.

I graduated with my Master’s in 2015, full of hope and energy that I would be able to put my education to good use. With degrees in hand, I was able to obtain a job as a digital immigration advocate – putting my years of experience and passion to good use. Simultaneously, and thanks to the new in-state tuition law in Florida, I was able to help both of my younger brothers enroll at Miami Dade College and Florida Internation University – they are currently pursuing degrees to work in business and communications, respectively.

The government NEEDS to focus on getting rid of the REAL CRIMINALS – people like Juan, who came here in their youth and have done everything in their power to become productive members of society and work harder than everyone else.

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I’ll admit right away, I was terribly disappointed in this place for their wheelchair-suitability. It didn’t used to be like this… and although I came here all the time when I was able-bodied, it wasn’t like this. They changed it… and unfortunately that change was for the worse.

At first Penrhyn Castle looks good when it comes to access – they’ve changed their parking system with a two-tired section for diabled visitors. On the surface, it’s great: There’s a lower-level area by the main reception cabin in the grounds, and a secondary one up by the castle. Neither are very good, although on the surface you would presume them to be. The execution, however, is atrocious.

For those on the lower-level parking area, there is a minibus to the castle… Good, right? Unfortunately, no. This minibus is only appropriate for those who are fully-mobile and capeble. Before I was entirely wheelchair-reliant, I tried it. I shouldn’t have. To board this bus, you must climb a steep set of deep steps to get inside. I’m 5′ tall and they were about knee-high. Put it this way, my 96 year old grandmother wouldn’t be doing it. My own mother (aged 60) could barely manage, but mainly because she’s a dinky 4′ 9½” (oh, yes, the ½ matters!).

So… not suitable for mobility-impaired at all. Shame on them, quite frankly.

The next option is parking at the designated disability section up by the castle. I’m not sure if this is arguably worse, because it holds so much hope. Instead, the place is entirely hopeless.

With no specific designated areas, and the tarred road and parking area broken, just littered with insurmountable rain-filled pot-holes, the place was a nightmare. It had a nice new sign showing it was for disabled visitors, but there was nothing else done to it to make it actually suitable. It was lucky I was on my first outing in my first new wheelchair – in my old one, I very well may have been just stuck here…

The thing is, the troubles did not end there. Oh, no. It carried on.

I’ll say this here: the difficulty is all on the outside, the inside is beautiful (see below) and pretty easy to navigate the ground floor area. Getting in there however, after first driving into the entrance, is such a different matter.

So, having to manouvre through these awful pot-holes, I made it out to head towards the castle. The road is uneaven and difficult to manage whilst making your way to the castle entrance. If you can manage this (with or without help), you get to the anti-chair hill that takes you right up to the entranceway.

This is a rather steep hill overlayed with a deep pile of very loose brown chippings. Wheels spin and try hard to grip aimlessly… pushing on my own was no longer an option. It took every effort from both myself and my mother pushing that we made it up there at all. By the time we finally got up there, I was annoyed, exhausted, and borderline-irate. It surely could not take so much effort to use damned tar on this road? Or on the disability parking? Or use any common sense whatsoever?? (At the moment of writing, I am considering writing a very strongly-worded email to them regarding this…). It made going to my favourite place far, far too hard – and I hadn’t even entered the castle yet!

Even then, it wasn’t over… I was genuinely wondering at this stage if I was ever going to be able to manage to get into this place without having a nervous breakdown. I had never once imagined I would be made to feel so unwelcome in this place I had loved all my adult life, since I was 18 years old.

The ramp to then get into the main entrance had these… nodes on them. Long and thin blocks (see below), presumably to help people walk up… but made it impossible for me to manage to get up alone on my wheels – essentially negating the entire point of the damned thing in the first place! I came across a similar contraption inside, and barely made it up that, too. By this time, I was feeling terrible.

As far as I was concerned, I was beginning to think this fiasco was bordering on the rediculous, feeling greatly upset that I had to fumble through so many difficulties to see this place I loved the most, that had brought such peace and happiness to me for so many years, for literally my entire adult life. I was feeling hopeless and unwanted by the time I finally got into the Grand Hall and the castle proper.

This used to be my favourite place to go since I was still in college. Getting onto nearly two decades later, I suddenly and unexpectedly am not welcome anymore – it devestates me. Why should I have to go through such a torrent of difficulties when wanting to visit this beautiful place…? If I’d have paid to go in, I would have asked for my money back – it would have entirely inappropriate to ask for fees when they didn’t even make me a welcomed visitor.

The redeeming feature was the castle itself. Penrhyn Castle is a labour of love and beautiful imagination that spans many centuries. Once inside, everything else melts away – it’s just too beautiful inside to even care how hard it was to get in. It doesn’t excuse it at all – but it starts to make up for it, at least.

This place is amazing and once you’re in (if you are able to get so far in this bizarre episode of the National Trust’s edition of Krypton Factor…) you will not regret the amount of effort it took – Penrhyn Castle is an experience in and of itself, and should not be missed if at all possible.

It’s still as beautiful as it ever was. There’s even more for walking-people to enjoy – but although only able to access the ground floor in a wheelchair, these are really the most beautiful and important rooms. However, the volunteers do have some lovely pictures of the key points of what the rooms are like upstairs.

Inside, the rooms are easy to manoeuvre and it’s easy to flow throughout the place. Use any ability to lean right back up over your backrest to stare right up the centre of the square spiral of the hand-carved Gothic Grand Staircase. Trust me, it’s worth it if you love beautiful architecture.

The shop is easy to manouvre, as was the cafe (hot lunch available 12-3pm, all fresh and with as much local produce as possible, with lovely coffee available, amongst other cafe staples).  In fact, it’s all pretty easy once your actually inside.

It’s just a shame it’s rather a nightmare to actually get in…

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  Penrhyn Castle (National Trust) I'll admit right away, I was terribly disappointed in this place for their wheelchair-suitability. It didn't used to be like this...