#professor forsythia

[puyondraws]

For no reason whatsoever, I made a Paldean PLA era professor. This is William Clavell II. He was left head of the board of science at the Paldean Academy as more experienced scientific talents obsessively researched the Great Crater of Paldea.

I’m not sure if I’m gonna use him for anything… he’s not even properly mentioned in ch4 of CC/CC, mainly because nobody’s heard of him yet.

Oh yah, here he is in the lineup of the other PLA professors I designed (with the exception of Laventon of course). I made some adjustments to their designs between last time I posted this lineup since I wanted to feel like all of them stood out in some way (so that Laventon wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb).

[transsexualunderground]

SYCORAX IN: DAY OF THE DIESELS

i really want to hear about sycorax!!!

Oooh aight aight!

This one is my DOTD AU, because, as much as I like bringin' back ol' unhinged D10, this movie's got some major flaws, yet major potential, too. And look, Percy's got friends other than Thomas.

Enter Sycorax, a slightly-pretentious, dramatic, artistic, silly little Shakespeare fan of a BR Class 12 that lost their wheels in an accident and got tiny little narrow gauge Co-Co bogies slapped on 'em. They work on the UHR, which, is a whole can of worms to explain on its own.

The UHR, or the Ulfstead Heritage Railway, is an absurd little heritage railway going in and around Ulfstead, and is linked up to the Skarloey via a long, straight, boring line with one water column in the middle (until a Little Caesar's is installed, long story). Not to be confused with the Estate Railway, as this was built using Mid Sodor track, and is basically me taking that portion of rail shown in Toby's Discovery and adding to it.

(And It Was At This Point He Realized This Post Would Be Very Long, Because Now He's Recapping the WIP Because He Is Convinced He Won't Finish a Script Version After He Finishes This Outline-Thing)

Anyways. This one's about Sycorax, who I've decided has a few different levels of envy (the closest thing to engine gender envy and envy of his claw, mostly) when it comes to Diesel 10, yet, also an intrigue and a desire to meet him. With a claw like his, you could do a multitude of things Sycorax yearns to do, and most of that boils down to creative endeavors.

So, this is a tale with D10 written a bit closer to his personality in TATMR (campy ridiculousness yet being genuinely menacing), with some splashes of his DOTD tendencies in there (the scheming! the manipulativeness! I think TATMR Diesel 10 is very capable of this, but I'll tap into DOTD D10 a little more for this, too.) Also, Splatter and Dodge are 'Arry and Bert Headcanon Antics. Because once, a friend of mine came up with the HC that 'Arry and Bert are Splatter and Dodge because model reuse. (Diesel 10 gets to call them "Barry" now instead of "Splodge." Seems like they had a competence upgrade in general but they can get silly with it, too.) (While I'm at it, I gave Pinchy its semi-sentience back.)

Now onto the actual plot, it follows quite a few of the beats from DOTD except with less of the friendship envy and fire antics (at least in my planning, I need to set up how we get to the fire in the climax).

Diesel introduces Sycorax to Diesel 10 at the Dieselworks, which now have narrow gauge tracks for Plot Reasons, Sycorax finds themself in sheer admiration of Diesel 10's claw and Vibes and his appreciation for the arts (see: that sculpture Pinchy made in TATMR. I like thinking he has a comical amount of knowledge about art, specifically sculpture, and also, @sudriantraveler's "Diesel 10 is a theater nerd" concept is an absolute blast) and of course that makes them a good pawn for all this, in a slightly different flavor to Splodge Barry, because part of this is keeping Sycorax in the dark about how shitty this is gonna be.

So D10 gets Sycorax aboard, and it's time to go steal a crane from the Steamworks. Who better to get into theft, though, than She Who Pranks, aka Forsythia, Sycorax's fellow narrow gauge engine! (She's a steam engine, which, IMO, makes this even funnier.) Sycorax doesn't fancy themself a thief anyways, they think they'd suck at it. So they promise that their affiliate would be more than happy to do this. She is. But then she proceeds to ask her coach Nicolas and some trucks to give her a bump of a lifetime to send her to the Steamworks. This isn't what Sycorax planned, and they have to drag her to the Steamworks anyways. (She isn't too happy about this because she's getting separated from Nicolas for this, but she can handle it.)

Sycorax brings Kevin around, and they suggest the diesels perhaps postpone the raid of the Steamworks until nobody's going to be there, but Diesel 10 is willing to take hostages. He's already taking the building hostage, after all. Sycorax is opposed, but is coaxed into going with it. See indented excerpt.

When they return with their stolen crane companion, Sycorax explains, “Apologies that took so long, Diesel 10, but my… affiliate, she stupidly decided to get to the Steamworks via being sent there to have damage taken care of, and I was sent to bring her there. The good news is, though, that I have brought this crane. Very important. Didn’t… you say something about storming the Steamworks earlier? Can the operation even wait until she’s done?” “We’ll just have to storm the place with her in it.” “We’re going to… what, now? Truth being told, I never did ask why we’re trying to take the Steamworks… What’d they do to us?” “Have a crane,” Diesel 10 says. “Your brevity truly is the soul of wit,” Sycorax responds in a way that’s hard to read as genuine or sarcastic. “Not really. We’re using it as a bargaining chip. We give the hat guy his Steamworks and whoever's in there back, and we get our better Dieselworks.” “...hostages, Diesel 10?” “If you don’t like it, you should’ve backed out with the cranenapping!” “That was willing on all parties’ accounts, Diesel 10! We can’t just take unwilling hostages! Albeit, knowing Forsythia, she’d love to be there amidst a takeover, but what about everyone else that’s there?!” Diesel 10 is annoyed that they’re questioning him now. “We’ll deal with them later. We’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”

They lead the charge, and all hell breaks loose. Sycorax sits back and watches in realization that this is... not a good thing at all. Diesel 10, instead of joining in the mess, hangs back for a bit to try and manipulate Sycorax a bit more. It doesn't really pull through, and Sycorax just says they'll... catch up with the others in a moment. Diesel 10 begrudgingly leaves them to their devices, and we get the moment that really shakes things up for Sycorax.

Sycorax does stay put for a moment, watching Diesel 10 as he goes off on his own... only to watch him start ripping things up with his claw. Sycorax realizes his claw is a claw of destruction and not creation, and after a lovely little monologue, they declare that they won't let this become a tragedy, and they go to think about how to right their wrongs.

But we get a cut to the absolute CHAOS happening down at the Steamworks. Forsythia got put into a crane and is just swinging around and spinning. This is the best hostage situation she's ever experienced. Someone explained what was going on to her and she just embraced it, as one does.

Enter Wesley, who is literally just a steam engine here to bring some stuff over really quickly. He observes the chaos, isn't sure what's going on, and needs to figure out where to put this stuff, so he manages to muster up a loud, almost commanding "HELLO THERE!"

Everyone looks at him like this:

At least, they do until Syth swings down asking what Wes is doing here, explains the situation very casually (much to Wesley's bewilderment), and assures the others that he'll comply with the hostage situation nonsense. Everyone goes back to their business, and Wesley decides if he's going to be stuck here he may as well find someone to have a good conversation with. See indented excerpt.

“Cousin Wesley! Fancy meeting you here! Have you come to join the party?” “What party?” Wesley asks. “Oh, you know, the diesel takeover of the Steamworks!” “The… the WHAT?!” “Yeah, uh, now that you’re here, you can’t really leave, but, I’m sure it’s fine, because this has been the most fun hostage situation of my life.” "You know this guy, Forsythia?" a diesel asks. "Yeah, yeah, he'll comply with staying around for a while, I'm sure. The party's back on, everyone! Wooo!" She swings off and the chaos starts again. "Well, darn. Guess it's time to try and have a good conversation with… someone who makes alright conversation." Then it cuts.

Meanwhile Sycorax is still pondering how to fix this, so far from their own railway.

...and when we cut back to the Steamworks, Wesley and Paxton are having a nice casual chat about that time Wesley ran into some geese, before it's revealed his crew went to get the Fat Controller. Aw shit. Cue the model era theme!

He puts a stop to this nonsense, explains there were already renovation plans for the Dieselworks, 'Arry and Bert make some comments about how that kinda throws things for a loop (in classic Splatter and Dodge dialogue fashion) before D10 tells them to shut up, and he explains that there's just been a misunderstanding, and then Syth busts in with a "oh, so that's why you sent Sycorax to steal who then sent me to steal?" from above, much to TFC's utter confusion.

"Shut it, you two," Diesel 10 mutters before clearing his lack of throat and focusing on TFC again. "Then, clearly, there's been some misunderstanding here, I assure you. We don't even have a working crane back at the Dieselworks, we thought action was necessary." "Oh, so that's why you sent Sycorax who then proceeded to ask me for help stealing a crane?" Forsythia says, dangling from the 'bove. "Forsythia? Whatever are you doing up there?" the Fat Controller asks. "Having a good time, Sir, but that aside, Diesel 10 said he'd keep anyone who entered here by chance or was already here hostage as a bargaining point, so the diesels ensured I was safely within this. Luckily for me, this thing is VERY fun to swing around in. I'm… not going to get into too much trouble for this, am I?" "How come we never put the other one in a crane, then?" a diesel just offhandedly asked. "You guys were way too distracted by your shenanigans. Rookie mistake," Forsythia tutted.

TFC gets everyone back on topic, saying that he needs any accurate accounts he can get out of Forsythia and Wesley, he needs Diesel 10 to go bring back Kevin, and he needs everyone else to start cleaning up this disaster. But D10 ain't fond of that.

Diesel 10 approaches the Fat Controller with his claw. Snapping and snapping and spanning at Sir Topham, but he stands his ground. Pinchy keeps snapping, closer and closer until… it draws back. "Pinchy. Pinchy, buddy, you can't be doing this now. Why are you acting like you don't wanna do this?" Pinchy makes a gesture akin to shaking one's head and cowering back. "Pinchy." Then Pinchy hits Diesel 10. "I HATE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT!" Sir Topham gets himself out of harm's way in case Diesel 10 manages to get Pinchy to listen, but it’s more “out of range” rather than “backing away,” y’know? "Diesel 10. I need you to bring back the crane,” he says. "You want your dinky little crane back? Fine. I’ll give it back." He goes outside.

Cue Diesel 10 getting even more menacing.

We cut back to Diesel 10 heading to the Dieselworks. "Pinchy, I get it. Maybe you just need to warm up a bit before getting messy. And I know just the way to prove our point." As it's starting to turn out, it was never about the Dieselworks. It was about Diesel 10 wanting to abuse his power over others. "We'll let them have their crane back alive, or in pieces. Then they'll listen."

Leave a violent diesel and a clumsy crane in a place with flammable materials, and what do you get?

A fire, of course. Never quite sorted out how exactly it happens, but it does.

Sycorax sees the fire, startled. "Rails below and sky above… that's not normal engine smoke, is it? It's a lot bigger! There's a fire!" They and their crew kick it into high gear. Their aim is to see if they can do anything about it and then get help. Sycorax sees Kevin just staring at the fire in horror and snaps him out of it with a, "Kevin, what are you doing? You need to get out of here!" "Diesel 10's trapped! He was trying to get me with his claw, but then he started a fire!" Kevin exclaims. “There’s not much we can do except call for some firefighters. Come on, Sycorax, we must hurry," their Driver says. "There’s something else we can do!” Sycorax exclaims. "Kevin, go get help! Driver, there's a fire extinguisher in the building! If it's safe to get it, we can get Diesel 10 out even quicker!” And luckily for everyone involved, they can get to it because the fire hadn't spread to the front yet. The two rush into action, putting out enough fire to get to Diesel 10. Having realized there’s two tracks here, Sycorax’s driver has gotten a cable to tie these two together for a bit so Sycorax can pull him out of there in case he can’t move himself. He could’ve probably but… proactivity. "Sycorax?! Are you stupid? There’s a FIRE. What are you doing?" "Helping you. Kevin's getting the firefighters." "And you didn't just leave me for them to save?" "Every second counts in an emergency like this, that's why it's important to get out of it as soon as possible! You're lucky I even remembered the fire extinguisher that’s inside! Now hurry!” The two get out, and the fire crew of Belle and Flynn arrive. The two stay out of the way.

And then we get the final bit from this WIP, one I'm especially fond of.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, I guess,” Diesel 10 ends up saying. How are you supposed to react to someone saving your life? Nobody does that. Especially not when you're Diesel 10. “Let this be a lesson to you, Diesel 10. Your ambition could have been your downfall. I know this fire was your doing, and, goodness, you even tried to bring harm to Kevin! ‘Tis ironic that I found myself saving you after I had renounced this entire thing and wished to make things right, but that doesn’t change the fact that my opinion of you has changed drastically." We get a shot of Diesel 10's expression. This situation is clearly some sort of uncomfortable for him. "...and I shall let this be a lesson to myself, too," Sycorax adds. "'Tis not wrong to admire another's traits, but to idolize someone else without knowing their character? That would be my true folly, had I not realized it any sooner. They say never to meet your heroes, Diesel 10. I think I know why." "You speak like you came outta the sixteenth century," Diesel 10 complains, because cracking one-liners whenever shit goes wrong is kind of his thing. Sycorax half-laughs.

There's some Sycorax dialogue here and there in this WIP I'd like to improve, because they're a wonderful character that's in constant flux between using whatever's up-to-date in terms of words and random older terminology. I could definitely see them slipping into a "tis" and "thou" sort of mood during all of this, though, makes sense when you're getting morally contemplative.

So, yeah, that's Si:DoTD.

[thedensworld]

Healing Hues | Jeon Wonwoo

Pairing: Actor!Wonwoo x Professor!Reader (ft. Ex!Joshua)

Genre: Slowburn, angst, fluff, friendship

Synopsis: Exhausted by the monotony of his life as a celebrity, Wonwoo makes a pivotal decision to return to his childhood hometown and embark on a heartwarming project: building a small library named 'Healing Hues.' Little does he know, this journey will lead to a series of unexpected and transformative events.

Author Note: reader is she (don't hate me and my writing preferences:( please) i would love to receive a request. Send me an interesting plot!

Jeon Wonwoo knew deep down that his decision had been impulsive. Packing his belongings and embarking on the drive to Changwon, all on the heels of securing a two-week vacation leave, was hardly a meticulously planned expedition. But sometimes, life calls for a dash of spontaneity. His destination? None other than his father's villa nestled in the heart of his hometown, Uichang-Gu. The key to this haven of cherished memories was handed over by his father himself, a tacit approval of his quest for respite.

Seoul, the city that famously never slept, had held him captive for too long. It had embraced him, and in return, he had embraced its fast-paced, modern rhythm. But as he cast his gaze upon the bustling streets and the neon glow of the city one last time before his departure, he felt an inexplicable yearning for the simplicity of days gone by. It was a yearning that whispered to his soul, beckoning him to escape the whirlwind and find solace in the embrace of his roots.

The decision to seek refuge in Mujeom-ri, the place where his childhood dreams had been nurtured, was driven by this unshakable yearning. The memories were etched in his mind with vivid strokes, a testament to the beauty and tranquility of that place. Mujeom-ri had been his sanctuary, a place where his spirit could roam free, unburdened by the demands of the modern world. It was a slice of heaven on Earth.

Wonwoo had visited his hometown a few times before his family decided to make the permanent move to Seoul. Those visits had been a lifeline, a chance to escape the chaos and rediscover himself in the simplicity of country life. The six-hour drive from Seoul to Mujeom-ri was hardly a hindrance; it was a journey to a world where the forsythia lined the roads, their golden blooms lighting up the night like a string of stars. It was the charming countryside, the antidote to the urban hustle and bustle.

The clock struck midnight as he finally arrived in Mujeom-ri. He hadn't bothered changing out of the outfit from his last promotional event, a testament to the whirlwind of his recent schedule. Stepping into the villa, he was greeted by a scene of warmth and familiarity. The passage of time hadn't been unkind to this place; it had been meticulously cared for by the people his father had entrusted with its upkeep. These twin villas had once been his family's sanctuary, the backdrop to his childhood adventures, before they were transformed into welcoming havens for guests.

Before surrendering to the allure of sleep, Wonwoo made it a point to notify his father of his safe arrival. The weary traveler then retreated to his bedroom, a sense of nostalgia and excitement mingling within him. He was back in Mujeom-ri, his cherished childhood haven, ready to embrace the memories and tranquility it promised. As he lay in bed, the whispers of the past and the promise of new adventures danced in his dreams, setting the stage for an unforgettable journey of rediscovery.

A heavy sigh of relief escaped from his lips, a cathartic release of tension as he lay down. He closed his eyes, a weary smile tugging at his lips as he surrendered to the embrace of slumber. Tomorrow held the promise of wonderful things, and he was eager to seize them. His plan was simple: to get himself a bike and embark on an enjoyable ride through Dong-eup, leaving behind the bustling life he had known in Seoul. The city's relentless pace had worn him down, but here in Mujeom-ri, his hometown, he hoped to rediscover the simple joys he had left behind.

As he shifted in his bed, on the verge of drifting into dreams, a sudden thud shattered the tranquility of the night, jolting him awake. His body tensed, and his heart raced as he scanned the room with a growing sense of unease. Anxiety crept into his thoughts, and he couldn't ignore the feeling of menace that hung in the air like a dark cloud.

"Who are you?" he inquired with a quiver in his voice, his eyes wide with panic. But there was no response, just an eerie silence that deepened his unease. Without hesitation, he rose from his bed and cautiously made his way out of the room, guided only by the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Another thud echoed, this time from outside the house, urging him to hasten toward the source of the sound. The night seemed to hold its breath, the air heavy with anticipation, as if the universe itself conspired to create an atmosphere of suspense and mystery.

Flinging open the door, he was greeted by an unexpected sight—a woman gracefully jumping down from a two-meter-high fence. His gasp mingled with her startled exclamation as they found themselves face to face in the moonlit night. The dim light failed to reveal her features clearly, and his glasses did little to aid his vision. Fatigue weighed heavily on his eyelids, further obscuring the woman's identity. All he could muster was a question about her sudden arrival, his voice trembling with curiosity and concern.

"I live next door," the woman explained, pointing to the smaller cottage adjacent to his own. Her voice was as soft as a whisper in the night, and her explanation illuminated the reason behind her unconventional entrance. "The gate was locked, and I thought the housekeeper had something to do with it."

Wonwoo couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt; it had been he who had locked the gate, an oversight driven by his fatigue. He nodded in understanding, concern etched on his face as he inquired about her well-being, knowing that her descent from the fence must have been quite a fall. Assured of her safety, he retreated back into his bedroom, ready to bury his thoughts in slumber once more.

*

Wonwoo had never been a morning person. Back when he shared a house with Kim Mingyu, his bandmate, they were notorious for missing their alarms, only rousing from their slumber when their manager intervened. Waking up early was an arduous task for Wonwoo, a self-proclaimed night owl. His brain seemed to function at half-speed in the morning sun. Unless there was a morning schedule requiring his presence, he typically awoke in the afternoon, cherishing his days off and contemplating his erratic sleep patterns.

However, today was different. He found himself stirred from his sleep by the unmistakable crowing of roosters, heralding the arrival of a new day. Wonwoo couldn't recall the last time he had woken up with a smile on his face.

As he embarked on his day, he began by making his bed, a simple task that had become a comforting habit from his time living with Mingyu. Unpacking his belongings, he realized the need to stock up on essentials for his two-week stay. He took note of the absence of a nearby gym, a realization that left him pondering the necessity of one in the villas. The thought of driving nearly an hour to the nearest gym was less than appealing. In his mind, he made a mental note to suggest the idea of installing a home gym to his father.

Wonwoo decided to embrace the morning with a run, clad in his workout attire. A bit of cardio seemed like a good idea to invigorate his senses. After lacing up his running shoes, he embarked on a journey through the village that had nurtured his childhood. Memories blossomed like flowers in his mind as he inhaled deeply, savoring the sights of his hometown. Passing by his old elementary school, he couldn't help but notice the renovations that had taken place over the years. Yet, a single red-painted swing held a sweet memory of his childhood crush and the innocent moments they had shared. A fond chuckle escaped him as he reminisced about those bygone days, wondering where that childhood crush might be now. He encountered an older woman he remembered from his youth, an auntie who used to sell fish in the local market. She stood out with her distinctive presence, her husband and son working as fishermen in another district. The memories of her warm smile flooded back, reminding him of the simpler times.

Wonwoo greeted the woman, and to his surprise, she remembered him and even mentioned his father's name. Her kind offer of breakfast was met with a polite decline, as he wished to continue his exploration of the village. She assured him that her daughter would deliver food later and extended an invitation to her home should he need anything. His stroll led him to the field where he had spent countless hours playing football with his friends. Memories of his cheerful and outgoing childhood self surfaced, leaving him pondering how he had changed over the years.

"Jeon Wonwoo?" a familiar voice called out, breaking him from his reverie.

He turned to find Park Giyong, one of his closest childhood friends from elementary and junior high school, standing before him. Even though they had stayed in touch during his visits to his hometown, it had been nearly five years since they had last met. The loss of contact had been due to Wonwoo misplacing his smartphone, and their reunions were usually in Seoul, where Giyong was pursuing his medical degree at Seoul University. However, since Giyong had returned to Mujeom-ri to establish his own clinic, they had drifted apart. Wonwoo's morning jog suddenly became more enjoyable with Giyong's company.

After an hour of reminiscing about old times, Wonwoo returned to his villa. He planned to enjoy a cup of instant coffee he had purchased from a convenience store earlier and dive into one of the several books he had brought along. As he prepared to settle in for his reading session, a woman entered the lawn, holding a pack of food containers.

"My mother sent me to bring you this," she said, referring to the promised meal.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over Wonwoo at the kindness he had already encountered. He thanked the woman and introduced himself. She confessed that she recognized him from their shared school days and even mentioned that she enjoyed watching his dramas. Sometimes, Wonwoo forgot that he was a celebrity.

He learned that her name was Yeonju and expressed his gratitude once again. Out of friendliness, he invited her to join him for breakfast, but she declined, explaining that she had already eaten and had to work as an elementary school teacher at his former school. Wonwoo bid her farewell, promising to return the empty containers to her mother's house later.

Wonwoo's gaze fixated on the smaller cottage next door, memories of the previous night replaying vividly in his mind. "I locked her outside. I haven't formally apologized," he mused, a weight of regret settling in his chest. His attention shifted to the sumptuous spread before him. Should he share?

A flurry of uncertainties raced through his thoughts. "What if she's already eaten? What if this isn't to her taste?" The questions echoed, filling the room with their unresolved tension.

Summoning a resolute breath, he spoke aloud, a determined whisper, "Just try it, Jeon Wonwoo." The words hung in the air, a silent promise to himself. He rose from his seat, each step towards the neighboring door measured and deliberate.

With a hesitant hand, he knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet air. The weight of his actions settled on his shoulders, a mixture of apprehension and hope coursing through his veins. The seconds that followed seemed to stretch into eternity, a suspended moment of anticipation.

The door creaked open just a crack, revealing a woman with disheveled hair and sleep-heavy eyes. Wonwoo could only catch a glimpse of her sleepy visage. He cleared his throat, his voice still heavy with the remnants of sleep.

"Um, good morning," he began, his words stumbling slightly. "I was wondering if you'd like to have breakfast together? I thought it might be a nice way to make up for last night."

She blinked, struggling to process his words through the fog of sleep. After a moment, she seemed to register his request, and she nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

With that agreement, she gently closed the door, leaving Wonwoo in quiet anticipation. The seconds stretched into minutes, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, she emerged, transformed. Her hair was now neatly combed, and her attire, though simple, exuded a fresh and lively air.

Wonwoo couldn't help but admire the remarkable change, his own gratitude and admiration evident in the softness of his gaze. They exchanged a tentative smile, a shared understanding of this simple yet profoundly meaningful gesture. Together, they headed towards the table, the air tinged with a newfound sense of camaraderie.

"A grandmother I know sent this, and I thought it would be good to share with a neighbor," he explained, a gentle warmth in his voice, as they both settled into their seats.

"I'm Wonwoo, Jeon Wonwoo," he offered with a friendly smile, extending his hand in introduction.

"Kang Y/n," she replied, her voice a soft whisper, reciprocating the gesture with a polite bow.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Wonwoo insisted, graciously inviting Y/n to feel at ease.

As they sat across from each other, a delicate dance of courtesy and curiosity filled the air. Wonwoo's gaze lingered on Y/n, captivated by the grace with which she approached her meal. Her movements were deliberate yet unhurried, each bite savored with a quiet appreciation. When she looked up, her perceptive eyes met Wonwoo's, a gentle curiosity in her expression as if she could sense the depth of his observation.

"Is there something on my face?" she asked, her voice carrying a touch of amusement. Her fingers delicately patted her cheeks, checking for any stray crumbs.

Wonwoo couldn't help but chuckle softly, touched by her awareness. "No, nothing at all," he reassured, a warm smile gracing his lips.

"Actually, I was the one who locked the gate last night," Wonwoo confessed as he raised his spoon and dived into his meal.

A faint blush dusted Y/n's cheeks. "Ah, I'm sorry for last night. I lost track of time in library. I must have interrupted your sleep," she said, a hint of regret in her voice.

Wonwoo quickly shook his head. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't know that someone was occupying the house next door," he explained, his tone earnest.

Y/n hummed in understanding, nodding her head. "I was informed that the owner's son would be joining in a few days. It must be you," she said with a warm smile, reaching for her food.

"It must have been difficult for you... umm... jumping over the fence," Wonwoo added gently, referring to what he had witnessed the night before. Y/n's reaction was immediate, a surprised laugh escaping her lips, only to be followed by a fit of coughing.

Wonwoo, a bit flustered, hurriedly rose and went inside to fetch water. As he stood in his kitchen, he realized he hadn't installed tap water yet. He grabbed the grocery bag he had bought earlier, relieved to find several bottles of mineral water.

Returning to the table, he offered one to Y/n. "Here," he said, his concern evident in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I should have had this ready."

Y/n accepted the water with gratitude, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and appreciation. "Thank you, Wonwoo. You really didn't have to do this."

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his gaze. "It's no trouble at all. I want you to feel comfortable here."

As they settled back into their meal, the atmosphere around them seemed to soften. The initial awkwardness had given way to a shared understanding.

"How long are you going to stay?" Wonwoo wondered aloud, realizing he hadn't given much thought to the duration of his hiatus. He had informed his agency that this would be his longest break since his military service, but how long, exactly? A month? Maybe more?

"I don't know yet, maybe a month or two? How about you? How long have you been staying here?" Wonwoo inquired, genuinely interested in learning more about his newfound companion.

"This is my third week. Maybe two more. I couldn't leave my work for that long," Y/n explained, her laughter dancing lightly in the air. It was clear she was a dedicated professional.

"What do you do?" he inquired, his words punctuated by a bite of food. Wonwoo was aware that talking with one's mouth full wasn't the best habit, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"I teach at a university in Seoul," she replied, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

Wonwoo's eyes widened in surprise. "You're a professor?" He asked, admiration lacing his voice. Y/n nodded with a humble smile, the kind that spoke volumes about her character. She wasn't the type to boast about her impressive profession.

"How about you? What do you do?"

As Y/n's question hung in the air, it caused a palpable pause in the conversation. Wonwoo's gaze turned thoughtful, realizing that she hadn't recognized him. This revelation stirred a distinct sense of intrigue within him. After all, he was a familiar face on screens, effortlessly slipping into roles as villains, businessmen, and detectives. Encounters with people who were oblivious to his public persona were indeed rare, and this anomaly struck him as decidedly captivating.

"I..." Wonwoo began, his voice carrying a touch of uncertainty, as though he were carefully navigating unfamiliar territory. "I work in the entertainment industry. Specifically, in the movie industry," he explained, choosing brevity over embellishment. Y/n acknowledged his response with a nod, not pressing for further details.

Yet, this moment of revelation only fueled Wonwoo's curiosity further. It wasn't often he had the opportunity to engage with someone who approached him without the weight of his public image. This unexpected encounter held the promise of unfolding in ways he hadn't anticipated, adding an unexpected layer of depth to their burgeoning connection.

*

Wonwoo's steady breaths puffed out in white clouds as he slowed to a halt, his jog complete. His phone, nestled snugly in his pocket, hummed with urgency. With a quirked brow, he plucked it out, revealing a call from his ever-busy manager. A hint of amusement danced in his eyes at the thought of what could warrant such a sudden update.

"Hello," he greeted warmly, his voice a soothing balm over the line.

His manager wasted no time, diving into the updates. Wonwoo leaned against a nearby tree, listening intently. It was heartening to hear that the actor's career was still making waves in the industry. But as the conversation swayed, Wonwoo took a moment to share a personal triumph.

"I've been reconnecting with old friends from my hometown," he informed, a touch of nostalgia coloring his words. "It's been a wonderful experience."

Then, a request surfaced in his mind, something he'd been mulling over for a while. "I was thinking... could we make a formal announcement about my hiatus? I have a project in mind—a little library for the kids in the village. It would mean a lot to me."

His manager's voice buzzed with activity. "I'll get in touch with PR. They're swamped, you know how it is. By the way, did you hear about Hong Jisoo? Married and divorced, all in secret. The whole industry's in a frenzy."

Wonwoo nodded, his expression thoughtful. He knew Hong Jisoo, though they'd never shared a scene. Their paths often crossed at award ceremonies, a testament to the longevity of their careers. Marriage, especially early on, wasn't uncommon in their world. Divorce, however, bore its own weight of sorrow.

"Alright, no rush on my end," Wonwoo assured, his tone empathetic. "Thanks for keeping me in the loop. Take care, hyung!"

As the call ended, Wonwoo's gaze swept across the tranquil scenery, the village he held dear. His name danced on the breeze, a familiar voice that turned his head. There stood Giyong, clad in a tracksuit, an image of comfort and familiarity. A genuine smile graced Wonwoo's lips, warmth and respect radiating in his eyes as they met the gaze of the Mr. Doctor.

"Good to see you," Wonwoo greeted, extending a hand in greeting. The stories and connections of their shared hometown were threads that bound them, making this meeting all the more special.

"Have you ever met the woman next door to mine?" Wonwoo inquired, his curiosity piqued after their discussion about the government library miles away from the village.

Giyong's brow arched in thought. "She's still around? I crossed paths with her weeks ago, but I assumed she'd moved on by now," he explained, a hint of surprise in his tone. "Seems like she keeps to herself."

Wonwoo nodded in understanding, absorbing Giyong's words. The quiet presence of the neighbor next door suddenly held a touch more intrigue.

"About the library, come by my office after lunch. I'll be happy to accompany you for a visit," Giyong offered, his voice warm and supportive.

As the clock hand swept towards 1 pm, Wonwoo stood before the mirror, giving himself a final once-over. Today was a day of plans and purpose. First, a visit to Giyong's office, where they'd discuss the logistics of the library project. Then, an observation trip to the existing library, an essential step in crafting a space that truly catered to the village's children. Giyong had also hinted at a discussion with the village head, emphasizing the seriousness of Wonwoo's endeavor. The thought of his father's potential support buoyed his determination.

Stepping outside, Wonwoo's gaze naturally fell upon Y/n's door. He hadn't seen her today. The memory of their last encounter flashed in his mind—it was yesterday night, her returning with a stack of books in hand. Could it be, he wondered, that she was involved with the local library as well?

Wonwoo stepped into Giyong's office, only to find himself in a professional medical clinic, complete with a pharmacy and a bustling staff. The revelation that Giyong was not just a doctor, but a savvy businessman as well, caught him off guard. Giyong's explanation about his alternating shifts, to accommodate his childhood best friend, resonated with a deep sense of friendship and dedication. Wonwoo could only chuckle at the revelation as they made their way towards the library.

"It's quite a distance from the school, isn't it?" Wonwoo observed, prompting a nod from Giyong. Memories of the old library near the fish market resurfaced, a cherished place from his past that had unfortunately met its end due to land ownership issues.

Inside the library, they were greeted warmly by the staff, their mission for children's books met with helpful suggestions.

"These books are mostly classics, a bit on the older side," Giyong explained, brows furrowed in concentration as he assessed the collection. Wonwoo nodded in understanding, selecting one of the books that had once transported him to childhood adventures. A warm smile tugged at his lips, memories flooding back.

"We'll need to invest in a good number of popular and newer books. How many are we talking? At least fifty, I'd say!" Giyong exclaimed, his own mental tally underway. He went on to inform Wonwoo about the escalating costs of children's books, a reality that hadn't escaped their notice.

As they delved deeper into their discussion, Wonwoo's gaze wandered through the aisles. There, seated serenely amidst the books with a laptop before her, was Y/n. His smile widened as he approached, the recognition lighting up her features.

"So, you're here every day," Wonwoo remarked, causing her to startle slightly. She offered a somewhat awkward smile before closing her book, her attention now fully on him.

"I've been here since morning. I lost track of time and nearly skipped lunch, so thanks for the reminder," Y/n explained, your tone gracious.

Taking a seat beside Y/n, Wonwoo's eyes flitted between the pages of the book and the contents of her laptop. "What are you working on?" he asked, genuine interest in his tone.

"Just reading a book and working on a paper. It was a pleasant surprise to find this book here," She shared. Wonwoo's eyes fell upon the title, Library Classification History, a wry amusement dancing in his eyes. "Is it related to what you teach?" he inquired, intrigued.

Y/n nodded. "I teach Library and Information Science," she revealed.

Wonwoo couldn't help but chuckle, marveling at the serendipity of it all. He, wanting to establish a library, had met her—a specialist in the very field. It was a coincidence too perfect to be ignored.

"In fact," he began, a glint of excitement in his eyes, "I'm planning to create a small library on the first floor of my place."

Y/n's interest was piqued, and shenodded in encouragement, eager to hear more about his vision. Wonwoo called Giyong who is still drawned by the book. He friendly introduced Giyoung to Y/n and vice versa.

"Indeed, she's a professor. She teaches library science," Wonwoo informed Giyong, watching as the revelation left the man visibly taken aback.

"What a twist of fate," Giyong mused, a sentiment that Wonwoo readily echoed. The synchronicity of their meeting with you, a professor in the very field they were diving into, seemed almost too perfectly timed.

As Wonwoo went on to explain the vision of creating a small library for the village's children, his words carried a blend of earnestness and passion. It was a plan woven with care, a promise to provide the young minds in the village with a sanctuary of knowledge and imagination.

"I can still recall how much Wonwoo adored reading as a child. It's no wonder he feels so strongly about ensuring kids today have the same access to books," Giyong reflected, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. He spoke of moments from their shared past, of glimpses caught of a young Wonwoo engrossed in books in class or within the hallowed halls of a library.

Meanwhile, Y/n sat in quiet contemplation, the weight of the proposition hanging in the air. She considered the potential impact of her brief stay in this time, wondering if it could lend a helping hand in bringing this dream to fruition—a small library, a beacon of knowledge for the children of the village.

"What can I do to assist?" Her inquiry broke the thoughtful silence, drawing a radiant smile across Wonwoo's face. It was a question that held the promise of collaboration, a joining of hands to shape a future of enriched minds and shared stories.

*

The days had been a whirlwind for Wonwoo, Y/n, Giyong, and Youngmi. Wonwoo's strategic move to enlist Youngmi's help as an elementary teacher had paid off, granting them invaluable insights into the needs of their young audience. With Giyong and Youngmi juggling their own demanding schedules, the lion's share of the preparations fell upon Wonwoo and Y/n. Wonwoo, his sleeves rolled up, threw himself into the renovation project, determined to transform the first floor into a space worthy of being called a small library. Meanwhile, Y/n delved into research, meticulously curating a collection that would captivate and educate young minds.

As the day waned, Youngmi's departure marked the beginning of a quiet evening. With her mother's thoughtful gesture, the duo received a comforting late-night snack and a steaming cup of green tea. After bidding Youngmi farewell, the room settled into a hushed intimacy, the soft glow of a nearby lamp casting gentle shadows.

"Let's take a moment to rest," Wonwoo suggested, carefully placing his paint-splattered equipment aside. On the other side of the room, Y/n set down the tablet that had commanded her attention since morning. She stretched languidly, every movement exuding a feline grace. Approaching Wonwoo, she joined him, both eager to indulge in the late-night sustenance.

The atmosphere was one of contented exhaustion, the weight of their efforts easing as they shared this quiet interlude. Wonwoo's chuckle mingled with the soothing rhythm of their breaths, a testament to the camaraderie that had grown between them.

In this stolen moment of respite, the small library project seemed to take on a new glow of promise. It was more than just a renovation or a collection of books; it was a labor of love, a beacon of learning, and a testament to the power of community.

"Have you thought about the name?" Y/n's voice, though gentle, held a touch of curiosity, breaking the tranquil stillness that had settled around them.

Wonwoo considered her question, his gaze momentarily drifting towards the space they had poured their hearts into. "I have a name in mind, but I'd like to discuss it with everyone first," he explained, a warm smile gracing his lips as he turned to meet her eyes. The prospect of naming their collective creation felt like a pivotal moment, a decision that would forever define its essence.

"Would you mind sharing it?" Y/n inquired, her interest piqued.

Wonwoo's gaze held a contemplative glint, as if weighing the significance of the choice. Finally, he spoke, "Healing Hues."

Y/n's smile bloomed, her eyes bright with approval. "I like it. Being here feels like a kind of healing," she remarked, her voice carrying a soft sincerity that resonated with the quietude of their surroundings. Her sentiment hung in the air, a testament to the comfort their small library promised to offer.

Wonwoo nodded in agreement, a sense of gratification settling within him. "I spent a long time contemplating the paint colors. I wanted them to embody the essence of the name. I believe they do," he shared, pride and certainty lacing his words. The choice of soothing blue and vibrant yellow felt like an apt representation of the healing they aspired to bring.

"They complement each other beautifully. You've done a remarkable job," Y/n praised, her admiration evident. Her words were a balm to Wonwoo's dedicated efforts, validating the careful thought he'd invested in every detail.

Wonwoo's smile widened, a mixture of gratitude and pride lighting up his features. "Thank you, Y/n. Your contribution has been invaluable. Your help means the world to me," he expressed, his words carrying a depth of appreciation for the partnership they'd formed in this endeavor.

"Why Healing Hues, though?" Y/n's curiosity shimmered in her eyes as she asked about the chosen name, her intrigue giving voice to the question that hung in the quiet space.

Wonwoo, seated beside her in the cozy corner of the library, considered her question. He let out a casual shrug, as if the answer was simple, though layered with personal significance. "It might sound a bit cliché," he began, his voice carrying the weight of genuine sentiment, "but when I arrived here, I was coming from a place of utter exhaustion. This place became a source of healing for me. Reconnecting with everyone from my childhood, meeting you, and realizing the dream of creating a small library—it all coalesced into a sense of healing. For the first time in a long while, the colors of my life felt harmonious and whole."

Wonwoo's explanation was delivered with a calmness that belied the depth of feeling behind his words. In his eyes, there was a hint of reminiscence, a fleeting recollection of the hectic days and the monotony that had once defined his existence just a week ago. But now, those memories seemed to have faded, replaced by the vibrant hues of happiness and purpose that colored his days in his hometown.

The library around them seemed to bask in the warmth of Wonwoo's words, as if it too understood the significance of the name chosen. The air was charged with a sense of quiet contentment, the space itself bearing witness to the transformation that had taken root within its walls.

Y/n listened, the weight of Wonwoo's words settling in her heart. It was a name that now held a profound meaning, one that she knew would resonate not just with them, but with anyone who stepped through the doors of Healing Hues. In that moment, she felt the power of names, how they could encapsulate the essence of something greater, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for being a part of this journey.

*

The morning sun streamed through the windows, painting the room with a warm glow. Giyong's cheerful voice roused Wonwoo from his slumber, a gentle nudge to action amidst the promise of a busy day ahead. Wonwoo blinked away the remnants of sleep, realizing he'd drifted off on the couch after a night of painting the entire room.

As he stirred, a comforting weight pressed against his shoulder, reminding him of Y/n, who had fallen asleep beside him, equally exhausted from their efforts. Her peaceful slumber painted a serene picture against the backdrop of their fledgling library.

Giyong entered the room, accompanied by a few helpers carrying stalls that would soon hold the carefully curated collection of books. Wonwoo, still rousing himself fully, turned his attention to Y/n, gently shaking her to rouse her from her rest. "Morning already," he whispered, a fond smile gracing his lips as she shifted to a more comfortable position, her head no longer resting on his shoulder.

The arrival of the stalls had happened faster than expected, a pleasant surprise for the duo. Giyong explained that the specific table they had been looking for was still in production, prompting him to order a similar one. He couldn't hide his relief that the color matched seamlessly with the rest of the room.

With the stalls in place, Giyong spoke of the imminent soft opening, his eyes briefly landing on Y/n, the dedicated curator of their book collection, who still asleep. She had worked tirelessly to ensure that each selection met Wonwoo's approval, carefully crafting a library that would captivate and educate young readers. The initial collection included 25 children's books, a blend of encyclopedias and stories, alongside 15 books tailored for older readers. Y/n had finalized the order late into the night, her commitment unwavering.

Giyong couldn't help but tease, "She's worked even harder than you, I'd say," his tone light and teasing. Wonwoo simply nodded in agreement, a smile playing on his lips. He was too drained from their collective efforts to engage in playful banter. The room buzzed with an air of anticipation, each piece falling into place, culminating in the realization that their dream of Healing Hues was on the verge of becoming a reality.

"Let's have a quick meeting after this to discuss the soft opening agenda," Wonwoo proposed, excusing himself to the second floor for a moment of reprieve and rejuvenation.

As he returned, the scent of seafood pancake wafted through the air, a tempting invitation from Youngmi's breakfast. He couldn't resist asking, "Can I have some of this?" before indulging in the morning meal.

He found Giyong and Youngmi settled on the couch, waiting for him. However, Y/n was conspicuously absent. Concern pricked at Wonwoo's senses, and he inquired, "Where's Y/n?"

Youngmi promptly explained, "She's outside, taking a phone call," before they delved into the meeting.

They decided on a soft opening with a beach vacation theme, a concept that promised both relaxation and exploration for their guests. Youngmi suggested a personality test to recommend books, a touch that added a personal connection to the experience. When Y/n eventually joined the meeting, she readily agreed with the proposals and offered her assistance.

Yet, even as discussions flowed, Wonwoo's gaze kept returning to Y/n. He sensed a shift in her demeanor, an unspoken weight that seemed to settle upon her since that phone call. It troubled him, an unspoken concern nagging at the edges of his thoughts.

"Y/n, could you take care of the food?" Giyong suggested, drawing Y/n's attention. The idea was met with unanimous agreement, and the meeting concluded swiftly as Giyong and Youngmi headed off to work.

Left alone, Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. When Y/n made a quiet exit, he moved to stop her. "Is everything alright? Did something happen?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry, his eyes searching for answers in her gaze.

Y/n's response was measured, her voice calm but carrying a hint of weariness. "Nothing. Just tired."

Wonwoo, respecting her need for space, didn't press further. He gently reminded her of their evening meeting with the others, watching as she nodded and made her way home in haste.

As Wonwoo watched Y/n depart, a gnawing worry settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that something weighed heavily on her mind. Her usually serene demeanor had been replaced by a quiet reserve, leaving him with a sense of unease.

He recalled the phone call that had preceded this shift in Y/n's demeanor. The suddenness of her withdrawal from the meeting, coupled with her distant expression, left him with a growing concern. What could have transpired in that conversation to cast such a shadow over her typically composed demeanor?

Wonwoo knew Y/n to be a private person, but this was different. This was a shift in her usual disposition, a veil drawn over the window to her thoughts and emotions. It left him feeling powerless, aching to reach out and offer comfort, yet hesitant to intrude on what might be a deeply personal matter.

The bond they had formed through their shared project and the days spent working together had fostered a sense of camaraderie. He cared for Y/n's well-being, not just as a collaborator, but as a friend. Her sudden change in behavior tugged at his heart, leaving him torn between respecting her privacy and wanting to be there for her.

As the day unfolded, Wonwoo found his thoughts frequently returning to Y/n. He couldn't shake the worry that lingered, a subtle undercurrent to the day's activities. He hoped that their evening meeting would provide an opportunity for Y/n to open up, if she felt inclined to do so.

*

Wonwoo's heart dropped at the sight that met his eyes. Y/n stood before him, her once vibrant complexion now drained of color, cold sweat glistening on her forehead. She looked as though she could barely stand. Before he could utter a word, she collapsed to the floor, her strength failing her.

"You're burning," Wonwoo murmured, a mix of concern and panic surging through him. Without hesitation, he reached for his phone, dialing Giyong's number in a frantic hurry. He relayed Y/n's condition, the urgency in his voice apparent. Giyong, on the other end, instructed him to bring Y/n to his clinic immediately.

With great care, Wonwoo lifted Y/n into his arms. He carried her to his car, the urgency of the situation propelling him forward. The drive to Giyong's clinic felt like an eternity, every passing second amplifying his worry.

Giyong was already at the clinic, preparing to leave for the night. He quickly assessed Y/n's condition, confirming that she was indeed suffering from exhaustion and dehydration, which had led to her dangerously high temperature and overall burnout.

"Is she going to be okay?" Wonwoo's voice trembled with concern, his eyes locked onto Y/n, who lay on the examination table.

Giyong met Wonwoo's gaze, offering a reassuring but solemn explanation of her condition. "She'll need to stay here for IV treatment. She should be able to go home tomorrow morning. You did the right thing checking on her when you did. Her condition could have worsened if left unattended."

Wonwoo nodded, a mixture of relief and lingering worry washing over him. He knew that they had caught this just in time, but the sight of Y/n in such a vulnerable state was a stark reminder of the importance of taking care of oneself.

After Giyong reassured him that Y/n was in capable hands, Wonwoo left the clinic, the weight of worry still clinging to him. He returned to the house, his steps heavy with concern. As he approached Y/n's door, he remembered the urgency of the situation earlier and realized it was still unlocked. He extended a hand, preparing to secure it, when a sound from within caught his attention.

A faint ringing echoed in the quiet of the house, originating from Y/n's phone. His mind raced back to that morning, to the phone call that seemed to have brought about such a drastic change in her condition. Could this call be the cause of her sudden illness? Wonwoo wondered, a knot of unease forming in his chest.

Unable to ignore the persistent ringing, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The scene that greeted him weighed heavily on his heart. Y/n's phone lay on the coffee table in front of the couch, its screen displaying the caller ID: 'Jisoo,' accompanied by a white love emoji. Wonwoo's brows furrowed with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Was Jisoo someone significant in Y/n's life? The thought passed fleetingly through Wonwoo's mind, leaving him uncertain about how to proceed.

He opted not to answer the call, feeling that it wasn't his place to do so. As the call ended, he couldn't help but notice the numerous missed calls from the same number. A quick glance at the screen revealed several unread messages, evidence of Jisoo's persistent attempts to reach Y/n.

Wonwoo hesitated, unsure of what to make of this new piece of information. It was clear that Jisoo held some importance in Y/n's life, but the nature of their relationship remained a mystery.

The phone screen illuminated with a cascade of messages from Jisoo, each one more forceful and accusatory than the last. Wonwoo's heart quickened its pace, startled by the sudden intensity of the conversation he inadvertently stumbled upon between Y/n and this person named Jisoo. The tone of the messages sent a shiver down Wonwoo's spine, a mixture of concern and unease prickling at his senses. What could possibly be transpiring to elicit such a charged exchange?

Another call punctuated the quiet, a shrill ring that signaled a persistent urgency. Wonwoo's determination solidified. He couldn't bear the thought of Y/n being embroiled in this apparent turmoil alone. With a steady resolve, he accepted the call, mentally preparing himself for the confrontation that awaited on the other end of the line.

"Where are you? We need to talk!" Jisoo's voice crackled through the phone, urgency dripping from every syllable. Wonwoo's disapproval of this person, whoever he was, surged with each passing second. He couldn't fathom how anyone could address Y/n with such forcefulness.

"Answer me! My career is on the edge! Don't you dare to run away!" Jisoo's words thundered through the line, carrying an undercurrent of frustration and desperation. Wonwoo closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath to brace himself against the torrent of anger. The waves of intensity emanating from the conversation were almost suffocating..

Wonwoo held his ground, his voice steady and composed, determined to navigate this unfamiliar territory with a clear head. When Jisoo demanded to know who he was, Wonwoo responded with a calm assurance that hinted at his resolve. The seconds that followed held a tangible tension, as if the air itself was bracing for what would come next. Jisoo's reply carried a blend of both curiosity and suspicion, a clear indication that he was deeply invested in the situation.

The back-and-forth continued, with Jisoo pressing for more information. "Who's this? Why is a man picking up Y/n's phone? Who are you?" Each question was laced with a growing intensity, revealing the gravity of the situation that had prompted Jisoo's concern.

Wonwoo weighed his words carefully, opting to disclose only what was necessary. "I'm her neighbor," he stated evenly, offering a concise explanation. He didn't want to overstep boundaries or divulge more than was appropriate, respecting Y/n's privacy while still conveying the urgency of the situation.

There was a discernible shift in Jisoo's tone, the frustration that had been simmering now mingling with a genuine concern. "Just tell her to call me once she checks her phone." The edge of urgency in Jisoo's voice was impossible to ignore, revealing a complex mix of emotions that hinted at the depth of his connection with Y/n.

As the call ended, Wonwoo couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled in his chest. He was now entangled in a situation he didn't fully understand, but his priority was clear: ensuring Y/n's well-being. He resolved to be there for her, to offer support in whatever way she needed, even if it meant delving into the complexities of her personal life. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders, but he was determined to face whatever came their way.

*

"Sorry, I caused you inconvenience," Y/n mumbled softly as they both settled into the car. Wonwoo couldn't help but chuckle, his warm laughter filling the space between them. With a gentle hand, he turned the key in the ignition, the engine humming to life. "Is it okay if I take you somewhere before we head home?" Wonwoo asked, motioning for Y/n to fasten her seat belt.

Y/n nodded, a shy smile gracing her lips. "But can we grab something to eat first?" Her request was met with an immediate nod of agreement from Wonwoo.

After a brief stop to satisfy their hunger, they continued their drive, heading toward a destination known only to Wonwoo. Y/n leaned back in her seat, allowing herself to be enveloped by the soothing motion of the car. The gentle warmth of the sun kissed her skin, and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment.

Wonwoo stole a glance at her, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached to adjust the controls, smoothly retracting the roof of the car. The world outside stretched before them, an expansive canvas of beauty and serenity. Y/n's laughter danced through the air, a testament to her genuine delight at the unexpected surprise. Wonwoo found himself captivated, not only by the breathtaking view but also by the vibrancy that seemed to radiate from Y/n in this moment, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of the night before.

As they continued their journey, Y/n's curiosity got the better of her. "Where are we going?" she inquired, her eyes filled with wonder and anticipation. She was open to whatever adventure awaited, as long as it offered a spectacle for her eyes to behold.

Wonwoo pointed towards the expanse of ocean that stretched out in the distance. "We're going to the beach," he revealed, a spark of excitement mirrored in Y/n's eyes.

"It's been a long time since the last time I went to the beach," Y/n confessed, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

As the car glided along the road, Wonwoo stole glances at Y/n, watching her eyes light up with the prospect of the beach. Her excitement was palpable, and it filled him with a quiet sense of contentment. He was grateful for the opportunity to share this moment with her, to witness her rediscovering the simple joys of life.

The wind tousled their hair, carrying with it the scent of saltwater and the soothing sounds of the sea. Wonwoo's own spirits were lifted by the sight of Y/n's animated expressions. Her presence beside him was like a breath of fresh air, a reminder of the beauty that could be found in the world, even in the midst of uncertainty.

The car came to a gentle stop, and they both stepped out onto the warm sand. Y/n kicked off her shoes, letting the grains sift between her toes. Wonwoo followed suit, relishing the sensation of the soft sand beneath his feet. The rhythmic crash of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to their surroundings.

Wonwoo watched Y/n with a mixture of fondness and admiration. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, her features softened by a serene smile. It was a moment of quiet reflection, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As the sun painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, Wonwoo couldn't shake the subtle turmoil churning within him. He watched Y/n, her presence a calming force against the backdrop of the serene beach. It was in moments like these that he found himself drawn to her in a way he couldn't quite put into words.

Confusion tugged at the edges of Wonwoo's thoughts. He was no stranger to the intricacies of human emotions, but this felt different. It was a gentle tug, a quiet whisper of something unspoken. He wrestled with the unfamiliarity of it all, grappling with the realization that his feelings for Y/n went beyond mere friendship or neighborly concern.

He stole another glance at Y/n, her silhouette etched against the fading daylight. She seemed to belong to this tranquil moment, a part of the natural beauty that surrounded them. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring them here, to this beach, at this precise moment in time.

Wonwoo stood at the edge of the shore, the briny scent of the sea filling his senses, each breath a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. His gaze, tender yet uncertain, lingered on Y/n. There was a delicate warmth that surged within him, a revelation that both unsettled and strangely comforted him.

Turning to her, he began, his voice a soft melody tinged with vulnerability, "Y/n, there's something I need to tell you."

Y/n, her eyes pools reflecting the twilight's fading embrace, met his gaze with a gentleness that seemed to bridge the expanse between their souls. A profound understanding flowed in the silent exchange, words unnecessary yet the connection profound.

Steady, yet carrying the weight of his heart, Wonwoo continued, "Last night, while you were at the clinic, a call came through on your phone. The caller was named Jisoo. The messages and the call log... they held an air of urgency."

Y/n's eyes widened slightly, her mind processing the revelation. A fleeting worry etched across her features as she retrieved her phone from Wonwoo's outstretched hand. With furrowed brows, she scrolled through the messages and call history, each line a testament to a history she had kept veiled.

"He's... someone from my past," Y/n confessed, her voice carrying the echoes of reluctance and resignation. "We were once close, but things changed. Something bad happened, and he need someone to bear the weight of blame."

Wonwoo nodded, a profound understanding washing over him. He could feel the tapestry of emotions woven into Y/n's being, the intricate threads of their shared history. Reaching out, he rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, an unspoken promise of solidarity.

"You don't have to face this alone," he reassured, sincerity filling the air between them. "Whatever path you choose, I stand by your side."

Y/n met his gaze, a shimmer of gratitude and relief dancing in her eyes. Her hand found its place atop his, an unspoken affirmation of trust and the blossoming bond that held them together.

And as the day surrendered to the night, they stood, two souls joined in a quiet understanding, their hearts harmonizing with the ceaseless rhythm of the waves. The horizon blazed with the last embers of sunlight, casting a warm, golden hue over the sands. Together, Wonwoo and Y/n embraced the uncertain future, fortified by the strength they found in each other's presence.

*

Wonwoo and Y/n returned home well past sunset. Giyong and Youngmi were patiently waiting, meticulously preparing containers for the snacks destined for tomorrow's soft opening. As Giyong rose from his seat to accept the grocery box from Y/n, concern laced his voice as he inquired about her well-being. "You weren't at clinic when I arrived this morning," he expressed, worry etched in his features.

Y/n responded with a warm smile, touched by the genuine care from everyone. Giyong, in turn, informed her of the arrival of the books, eager to see them find their place on the shelves. Youngmi, however, interjected, playfully scolding his use of the term 'decorated' when it came to books, emphasizing their purpose beyond mere ornamentation.

Suddenly, Giyong's tone shifted, a note of unexpected seriousness entering his voice. "By the way, can we talk after this? I have something to say," he asked Y/n, catching her off guard. It was a rare occurrence for Giyong to seek a private conversation with her. Meanwhile, Wonwoo observed the exchange, his gaze flicking between the two of them. He held back the urge to pry into Giyong's intentions, his lips pressed into a tight line.

In the midst of it all, a question lingered, unspoken yet palpable: Wasn't Wonwoo the only one harboring feelings for Y/n?

As the evening unfolded, the room gradually emptied, leaving only Wonwoo and Youngmi in its quiet embrace. The air held a certain tension, a subtle undercurrent of unspoken thoughts.

Youngmi, perceptive as ever, cleared her throat gently before speaking. "Wonwoo, can we talk for a moment?" Her voice was gentle, inviting, yet tinged with a hint of concern.

Wonwoo nodded, his gaze shifting from the empty chairs to Youngmi. He could sense the weight of the conversation to come, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation settling in his chest. "Of course, Youngmi. What's on your mind?" he asked, his tone steady.

She hesitated for a moment, choosing her words with care. "It's about you and Y/n," she began, her eyes meeting his with a searching intensity. "I've noticed... there seems to be something more between you two. Am I right?"

Wonwoo's heart skipped a beat, the question hanging in the air. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, the truth too important to evade. "Yes, Youngmi," he admitted, his voice measured. "I've developed feelings for Y/n. But I also value our friendship and want what's best for her."

Youngmi's expression softened, understanding and empathy in her eyes. "I appreciate your honesty, Wonwoo. It's not an easy situation for any of you."

He nodded, gratitude for her understanding washing over him. "I just want her to be happy," he confessed, his voice carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Youngmi's reassuring touch on Wonwoo's arm provided a steadying anchor in the midst of swirling emotions. Her gaze held a mixture of understanding and kindness, a testament to the depth of their friendship.

"I want to assure you, Wonwoo, that Giyong's concern for Y/n is solely rooted in care for her well-being," Youngmi began, her voice warm and sincere. "He's like a brother to her, and he only wants to see her happy and healthy. There's no hidden agenda, I promise."

Wonwoo's tense shoulders eased slightly, the weight of uncertainty gradually lifting. He appreciated Youngmi's candidness, a lifeline of clarity in a sea of conflicting emotions. "Thank you, Youngmi," he said, his voice touched with gratitude. "I just want what's best for Y/n, and it's reassuring to know Giyong's intentions are genuine."

Youngmi nodded, her eyes reflecting a shared concern for their friend. "We all do, Wonwoo."

A pang of empathy washed over Youngmi as she considered Y/n's journey, her eyes clouded with a mixture of sorrow and concern. "It breaks my heart to think of what Y/n might have been through, to end up here in this village," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "There must be something that pushed her to leave her previous life behind."

Wonwoo nodded, his own heart heavy with the weight of Y/n's untold story. "I've wondered about that too," he confessed, his gaze distant as he thought of the mysteries shrouding Y/n's past. "She carries a strength that's been forged through adversity, that much is clear."

Youngmi offered a gentle smile, her eyes softening with compassion. "Yes, she does. Yet she carries herself with such grace."

Silence settled between them, a shared understanding of the resilience that defined Y/n's spirit. In that moment, a renewed sense of respect and admiration for their friend blossomed, mingling with the determination to stand by her side, no matter what the future held.

As Y/n and Giyong entered the room, a subtle chill seemed to cling to the air, the weight of unspoken emotions lingering. Youngmi, ever perceptive, decided to break the tension with her effervescent spirit. She greeted them with a wide smile, injecting the room with her characteristic warmth and a light-hearted joke.

"Ah, here comes the dynamic duo, back from their secret mission!" she exclaimed playfully, her laughter dancing through the room.

Y/n's lips curled into a small smile, grateful for Youngmi's attempt to lighten the mood. Giyong, too, cracked a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. The atmosphere slowly began to thaw, replaced by a more comfortable ease.

They set to work organizing the books, arranging them according to the data Y/n had meticulously prepared days prior. Each book found its place on the shelves, a testament to their collective effort and attention to detail.

With the task completed, they gathered together, a sense of accomplishment settling over them. Cans of beer in hand, they raised a toast to their hard work and the promise of a successful soft opening.

The clinking of cans echoed in the room, a chorus of celebration and camaraderie. As they settled into their seats, the coldness that had lingered earlier was replaced by a shared sense of contentment and accomplishment.

As the evening wore on, the cheerful ambiance grew even warmer, fueled by the camaraderie and the liberating influence of the beer. Youngmi's laughter became more carefree, her words flowing with a certain unfiltered honesty.

"You know," she began, her words slightly slurred but her eyes bright, "all my friends are out there, happily married and posting pictures of their babies. And here I am, still single and living my best life!" She let out a peal of laughter, the sound filling the room.

Y/n, Wonwoo, and Giyong exchanged amused glances, touched by Youngmi's candidness. They listened intently, realizing that Youngmi was about to share something deeply personal.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," she continued, her voice lowering slightly. "People have been trying to push me into marriage for years. 'Settle down, find a nice man,' they say. But you know what I dream of?" Her eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and nostalgia. "Continuing my studies abroad, exploring the world, and writing about it!"

Her words hung in the air, a declaration of a dream deferred but not forgotten. There was a poignant sincerity in her voice, a testament to the strength of her convictions.

"And you three..." Youngmi turned to Y/n, Wonwoo, and Giyong, her gaze softening. "Meeting you, it's been a blessing. You've shown me that there's more to life than following the expected path. I'm grateful for each of you."

Her heartfelt confession settled over them, the room filled with a profound sense of connection. Y/n, Wonwoo, and Giyong exchanged smiles, touched by Youngmi's vulnerability and the depth of their friendship.

Giyong's gaze turned reflective, the warm light of the room casting shadows on his face as he spoke. "You know, there was a time when nobody believed I could make it. Even my own parents were skeptical when I chose to study medicine. They thought it was too ambitious, too difficult."

He paused, his eyes distant, as if revisiting those moments of doubt and determination. "But I was determined to prove them wrong. I worked tirelessly, pushing through every obstacle and doubt that came my way."

A quiet sense of pride tinged his voice, a testament to the resilience that had carried him through those challenging years. "And now, I can say that it's paid off. I'm doing what I love, and I can make a difference in people's lives."

Y/n, Wonwoo, and Youngmi listened in rapt attention, deeply moved by Giyong's story of perseverance. They could feel the weight of his journey, the sacrifices he had made to pursue his passion.

"You've achieved so much, Giyong," Wonwoo acknowledged, his voice filled with admiration. "Your dedication and hard work are truly inspiring."

Giyong smiled, a mix of gratitude and contentment lighting up his features. "Thank you, Wonwoo. It hasn't been easy, but every step of the way was worth it."

Giyong's words held a resonance that echoed in the room, a testament to the trials he had faced and overcome. "I've been fortunate in many ways," he continued, his voice steady. "I worked hard in my studies, and with time, I found my footing financially. My career has been a source of fulfillment and purpose."

There was a quiet pride in Giyong's demeanor, a sense of satisfaction in his accomplishments. Yet, a shadow of a deeper truth lingered in his eyes.

"But you know, even with all that, there's this unspoken pressure from society," he admitted, his gaze drifting to the window as if seeking answers in the night sky. "They see success and immediately think it's time to settle down, to get married. As if that's the only measure of a fulfilling life."

Y/n, Wonwoo, and Youngmi listened intently, their hearts heavy with the weight of societal expectations and the complexities that Giyong grappled with.

"It's frustrating, isn't it?" Giyong mused, a hint of frustration in his voice. "To have your worth measured by whether or not you have a spouse. But I've always believed that there's more to life than that, more to define our happiness and fulfillment."

His words hung in the air, a call for a broader perspective on what it meant to lead a meaningful life. Y/n, Wonwoo, and Youngmi nodded in agreement, a shared understanding of the intricacies of societal norms and personal aspirations.

"Wonwoo, do you have anything to say?"

Wonwoo's voice carried a weight of vulnerability as he opened up about his own struggles. "You know, being in the public eye all the time... it's not as glamorous as it might seem," he confessed, his eyes fixed on a distant point. "There's almost no privacy. Every move is scrutinized, every word analyzed. And sometimes, baseless rumors just take on a life of their own."

He sighed, a mixture of resignation and frustration in his tone. "It's a constant contradiction to who I am. I love acting, I love the craft, but the celebrity part... it's not something I enjoy. It's like I have to give up so much just to do what I love."

Y/n, Giyong, and Youngmi listened with empathy, their hearts going out to Wonwoo. They could sense the weight of the expectations that rested on his shoulders, the toll it took on his sense of self.

"I just hope that someday, society can change," Wonwoo continued, his gaze turning back to them. "Stop pushing people into these boxes, these roles that they think we should fit into. There's so much more to a person than what meets the eye."

His words hung in the air, a plea for a world where individual passions and dreams could be pursued without the burden of societal expectations.

In the midst of the gentle hum of conversation, Youngmi's words tumbled out with a certain unfiltered honesty. "I'm really curious about you, Y/n. We've known each other for almost two weeks, but all I know is your name and your job," she babbled, the warmth of the alcohol giving her words a candid edge. Giyong, ever vigilant, attempted to intervene, but Y/n gave him a reassuring nod, signaling that it was alright.

A soft smile graced Y/n's lips, a glimmer of resilience shining through as she began to speak. Her voice held a steady cadence, each word carefully chosen to convey the weight of her experience. Wonwoo, his eyes locked onto hers, became a steady anchor of support, his gaze a pool of unwavering affirmation, absorbing every nuance of her story.

"I was diagnosed to have severe depression when i decided to run away from my life."

As she continued, Y/n's voice wove a tapestry of pain, courage, and the strength it took to overcome. The room seemed to hold its breath, honoring the depth of her vulnerability.

"I was divorced on my third anniversary. My husband... My ex, I loved him, but he cheated on me and wanted to separate," Y/n confessed, her voice carrying the weight of a painful memory. In her eyes, shadows of hurt flickered, a testament to the depth of her past pain. Though tears threatened to spill, she held them back, determined to share her truth.

"I was pregnant for 8 weeks," Y/n revealed, her voice tinged with both sorrow and strength. The weight of her words hung in the air, a somber melody weaving through the room. "I suffered a miscarriage on my way here."

As Y/n spoke, the room seemed to hold its breath, the gravity of her experience palpable. Each word was a testament to the pain she had endured, a fragment of her journey that she bravely shared. The vulnerability in her voice echoed through the room, drawing her friends closer in shared empathy.

Her revelation painted a vivid picture of desperation and heartache. "I rushed to the nearest clinic," she continued, her voice steady despite the emotions churning within her, "desperate to save my child, but it was already too late."

Her revelation hung in the air, the unspoken pain of her loss lingering like a bittersweet melody

"Now, my ex has been terrorizing me," Y/n continued, her voice strained but resolute. Her words hung in the air, a testament to the ongoing struggle she faced. "He believes I'm the one who exposed our relationship to the public, even though it was a secret. He's a popular actor, living his life under the relentless glare of the spotlight."

As Y/n spoke, the weight of her truth settled over the room. Her voice carried the burden of the harassment she endured, painting a vivid picture of the torment she faced. The atmosphere held a mixture of sympathy and anger, a shared determination to stand by her side.

Her voice caught, a lump forming in her throat as she released the emotions that had been bottled up for weeks. It was a moment of raw vulnerability, the unspoken pain of her reality laid bare. "Trust me," she choked out, her words a rallying cry, "being married, having fame, even a stable job... none of it guarantees a life free from obstacles. Life keeps shaping us."

The room fell into a hushed stillness, the weight of Y/n's revelation settling over them like a heavy shroud. Youngmi's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her heart aching for her friend. With a tender determination, she rose from her seat and approached Y/n, enveloping her in a warm, supportive embrace. It was a gesture of solidarity, a silent promise that she wasn't alone in this.

Giyong and Wonwoo exchanged solemn glances, a fire smoldering within them. Y/n's story had unearthed a deep well of empathy, but also a simmering anger towards the man who had caused her such pain. They shared a mutual understanding, a shared resolve to stand by Y/n's side and offer whatever support she needed.

In the midst of the heavy atmosphere, Y/n found comfort in Youngmi's arms. The embrace was a lifeline, a tangible reminder that she was surrounded by friends who cared deeply for her. Tears flowed freely now, a release of pent-up emotions that had been held in for too long.

As the night wore on, they remained together, their bonds strengthened by the shared vulnerability of the moment. They knew that from this point forward, they would face whatever challenges came their way as a united front, ready to protect and uplift one another.

*

As Wonwoo stirred from his slumber, he found the room oddly empty, a sense of quiet unease settling over him. The muffled sound of a car trunk closing outside drew his attention, and he hastened to investigate. There, he discovered Y/n, busily loading her belongings into the car. Confusion knitted his brows. What was happening?

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, stepping closer to her.

Y/n sighed, her movements deliberate yet tinged with a sense of urgency. "I have to go back," she replied, gently pushing Wonwoo aside as she secured the last of her belongings.

Wonwoo couldn't suppress his worry. "Is it because of what happened last night?" he ventured, his gaze searching hers. He couldn't help but marvel at her strength and grace, even in the face of such adversity.

Y/n halted, her hand coming up to rub her face, weariness etched in every line. "My husband, no, my ex... He threatened to reveal my identity if I didn't meet him for lunch today. He plans to create a scene at my office," she confessed, her voice finally breaking.

In an instant, Wonwoo enveloped her in a warm embrace, providing a comforting sanctuary amidst the turmoil. "Is that true?" he inquired, his voice gentle. Y/n's nod against his chest confirmed her heartbreaking reality.

As he held her, Wonwoo grappled with a decision. Should he leave for the soft opening? The internal debate was short-lived; his concern for Y/n's well-being took precedence. He knew she couldn't bear a six-hour drive in her current state.

"I'll drive you," Wonwoo declared, resolved to prioritize her over the event.

Y/n's brow furrowed in protest. "No! You can't miss the soft opening this afternoon. Giyong and Youngmi need you," she insisted.

Wonwoo shook his head, his tone unwavering. "They'll understand. But you need me right now. I don't think you should be driving in your condition," he reasoned, gently cradling her trembling hands, a tangible display of her vulnerability.

"I'll explain everything to everyone and wait for me, okay?" Wonwoo reassured, before turning to head back inside, determined to support Y/n through whatever challenges lay ahead.

Wonwoo stepped outside, his fresh clothes clinging to his tall frame as he gracefully slid into the driver's seat. He motioned for Y/n to fasten her seat belt, a gentle reminder of their safety before embarking on their journey.

As Y/n settled into her seat, a wave of guilt washed over her. She couldn't help but feel responsible for the recent events that had unfolded. "How's everybody reacting?" she asked, her voice laced with remorse. "I'm so sorry."

Wonwoo turned to face her, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. With a reassuring smile, he replied, "No, it's fine. Everyone understands. They reached out to the local library for assistance, and they were more than happy to help." His words carried a sense of relief, a weight lifted off their shoulders.

Turning his head towards her, Wonwoo's hand found hers, their fingers intertwining. "Didn't I tell you that I'll always be on your side?" he asked softly, his touch providing comfort and reassurance. With a gentle motion, he rubbed her knuckles, a tender gesture that spoke volumes of his unwavering support.

As the miles passed beneath them, Y/n couldn't shake the unease settling in her chest. The warmth of Wonwoo's hand in hers, the reassuring rub of his thumb, it all felt too intimate, too knowing. He knew her, inside and out, and that vulnerability made her skin prickle with self-consciousness.

She stole a quick glance at him, finding his gaze fixed on the road ahead, a serene expression on his face. He seemed entirely at ease, oblivious to the storm churning within her

As the road stretched on, Y/n pondered how to convey her feelings without causing discomfort. She subtly shifted her hand, disentangling her fingers from Wonwoo's, letting her palm rest on her own thigh. It was a small, deliberate movement, a signal that she needed some space.

Wonwoo glanced at her, his brow furrowing in mild concern. Sensing her withdrawal, he eased off on the affectionate gestures, giving her the room she silently asked for.

The air in the car seemed to shift, a delicate balance of understanding settling between them. Y/n felt a weight lift off her chest, grateful for Wonwoo's sensitivity to her unspoken cues.

A lump formed in Y/n's throat, and she cleared it, willing herself to find the right words. "Wonwoo, I... I appreciate everything you've done for me. But you know so much about me, and I... I feel embarrassed, like you see all my flaws and insecurities."

The confession hung in the air, a fragile admission of her own discomfort. She couldn't bear the thought of him knowing every vulnerable part of her, laid bare for him to see.

Wonwoo met her gaze, his eyes soft with understanding. He nodded gently, his smile a beacon of reassurance. "Y/n, I want you to know that I would never want you to feel uncomfortable or exposed. I care about you deeply, and I respect your boundaries."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, moved by his considerate response. "Thank you, Wonwoo. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just... it's hard, you know? Being so open."

He nodded again, his gaze unwavering. "I understand, Y/n. Vulnerability can be a difficult thing to navigate, especially when you care about someone. Please know that I'm here for you, in whatever way you need me to be."

The drive to Seoul stretched on, the minutes feeling like hours in the confined space of the car. Wonwoo's gaze flickered towards Y/n's phone, which she cradled in her palm. He couldn't help but notice the persistent call from Jisoo's contact flashing on the screen. Y/n shot him an apologetic look before reluctantly answering.

She took a steadying breath, swiping to answer the call. "Hello," she greeted, her voice gentle yet firm. "I'm on my way from Changwon. Can you just wait?"

The voice on the other end crackled with impatience and agitation. Y/n's ex-husband seemed unwilling to grant her request, his demands echoing through the phone. Wonwoo, attuned to the conversation, could hear the frustration in Y/n's voice, though she remained composed.

"Don't you dare try to go to my office, you're crazy," she asserted, her tone unwavering. The words held a quiet strength, a boundary firmly set.

Wonwoo's grip on the steering wheel tightened instinctively. He could feel the weight of the situation, the underlying tension in the car growing palpable.

The passing scenery outside seemed to blur, the city lights of Seoul a distant promise of respite. Wonwoo stole glances at Y/n, concern etched into his features. He wished he could shield her from the discomfort, but all he could do was keep his focus on the road, providing a steady anchor in the midst of the storm.

As the call finally came to an end, Y/n let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned to Wonwoo, a mixture of frustration and weariness in her eyes. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, Wonwoo."

He offered a reassuring smile, his voice gentle. "You don't need to apologize."

As they approached the Seoul University area, Wonwoo navigated the car through the familiar streets, glancing at Y/n for directions. She directed him with a calm confidence, her focus on their destination.

"So, we're heading to Seoul University, right?" Wonwoo asked, double-checking to ensure they were on the right track.

Y/n nodded, her gaze fixed ahead. "Yes, that's correct. It's just up ahead."

As they pulled up near the café, a gentle sense of anticipation hung in the air. Y/n turned to Wonwoo, her expression grateful. "Thank you for getting me here, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it."

He met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "Of course, Y/n. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

As Y/n prepared to step out of the car, Wonwoo hesitated for a moment. "Would you like me to come with you?" he offered, genuine concern in his voice.

Y/n considered the offer, touched by his willingness to support her. However, she ultimately declined with a kind smile. "Thank you, Wonwoo, but I think I'll be okay. I'll catch up with you soon."

With that, she exited the car, leaving Wonwoo to wait inside. He watched her disappear into the café, a mixture of admiration and concern welling within him.

As he sat alone in the car, lost in his thoughts, he saw a figure approaching. It was Hong Jisoo, a fellow actor under the same agency. Wonwoo's mind raced, connecting the dots between the information he had from his manager and the story Y/n had shared the previous night.

The gravity of the situation settled heavily on Wonwoo's shoulders. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anger towards Jisoo, not just for the chaos he had caused for their agency, but for the pain he had inflicted upon Y/n.

He knew that if Y/n chose to reveal the truth about their relationship, it could mean serious consequences for Jisoo. And in Wonwoo's eyes, he would fully deserve the backlash.

The minutes stretched on as Wonwoo sat alone in the car, the tension in the air palpable. His mind raced, thoughts swirling with a mix of concern for Y/n and a growing disdain for Hong Jisoo. The gravity of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, a weight he couldn't easily shake.

He couldn't help but replay the details he had gathered from his manager and the fragments of Y/n's story from the night before. It was a puzzle he was desperate to piece together, a mosaic of pain and betrayal that painted a devastating picture.

Wonwoo's empathy for Y/n ran deep. He couldn't fathom the pain she must have endured, the scars that lingered beneath the surface. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to shield her from any further harm.

As he sat in the car, the cafe's windows reflecting the bustle of the university area, he couldn't shake the sense of injustice that gnawed at him. Hong Jisoo's actions were not only a betrayal of trust but a stain on their shared profession. The chaos he had caused for their agency was not easily forgiven.

Yet, Wonwoo also understood the delicate dance of fame and reputation. Exposing the truth could be a double-edged sword, a decision that required careful consideration. Y/n held the power to unveil the reality of their past, a truth that could potentially change everything.

As the minutes passed, he found himself hoping for Y/n's strength and resilience to guide her through the encounter. He knew she was more than capable of handling the situation, but the support he yearned to offer her was bound by the confines of the car.

Finally, the door of the cafe swung open, and Y/n emerged. Her posture held a quiet determination, and Wonwoo's heart swelled with admiration. She approached the car with a composed grace, slipping into the passenger seat beside him.

Their gazes met, and without a word, he could sense the weight of the encounter. He offered her a small, supportive smile, a silent assurance that he was there for her.

The ride back from Seoul University was filled with a quiet yet palpable sense of support. As they merged onto familiar streets, Wonwoo broke the silence, his voice warm and gentle. "Y/n, where would you like to go now?"

Y/n's gaze shifted to the passing scenery outside, contemplative. "Home, please. I just want to be there right now."

Wonwoo nodded, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the route to Y/n's residence. The drive was a comfortable one, the air between them carrying a sense of shared understanding.

As they arrived, Y/n turned to Wonwoo with a small, sincere smile. "Would you like to come inside, Wonwoo? It's been a while since I've been able to host anyone."

He met her gaze with a soft smile of his own. "I'd love to, Y/n. Thank you for the invitation."

The house greeted them with a familiar warmth, the familiar scent of home enveloping them. Y/n offered a brief apology for not being able to prepare anything, her genuine hospitality shining through.

"It's not a problem at all, Y/n," Wonwoo reassured her. "I'm just glad to be here with you."

They settled into a comfortable rhythm, the atmosphere relaxed and easy. As they sat in the living room, Y/n turned to Wonwoo, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and determination.

"The meeting earlier," Wonwoo began gently, "how did it go?"

Y/n took a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking. "It was complicated but we dealed to come with a legal agreement, really. We both agreed that if it ever comes out that I wasn't the one who revealed Jisoo's status, he'll stop bothering me."

Wonwoo nodded, understanding the weight of the situation. "That's a significant step, Y/n. I'm glad you were able to find some resolution."

Y/n's eyes met his, a spark of gratitude shining through. "Thank you, Wonwoo. Your support means more to me than I can express."

They sat in companionable silence, the weight of the day slowly lifting. As evening settled in, the air around them seemed to fill with a sense of hope and possibility. Y/n sat on the comfortable living room couch, her eyes fixed on Wonwoo, a mix of curiosity and warmth in her gaze. The atmosphere in the room was cozy, the soft light casting a gentle glow around them.

"Can I ask you something, Wonwoo?" she ventured, her voice soft but steady.

He turned towards her, his expression open and inviting. "Of course, Y/n. You can ask me anything."

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I've been wondering... why have you been so kind and affectionate towards me lately? I mean, driving all the way from Changwon and being there for me. It means a lot, but I'm just trying to understand the reason behind it."

Wonwoo met her gaze with sincerity, his eyes warm and earnest. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.

"It's been a while since I felt like I could truly enjoy my life and my time," he began, his voice filled with a quiet gratitude. "Meeting you, Giyong, and Youngmi again... it's been a reminder of the good things life has to offer. And with you, Y/n, there's something more."

Y/n's gaze held his, her curiosity deepening. "Something more?"

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes. Being around you, there's a sense of protectiveness that awakens in me. I want to be there for you, to support you in any way I can."

He took a breath, his gaze steady on Y/n's. "I've come to realize that it's more than just friendship, Y/n. I have feelings for you, romantically."

Y/n's heart seemed to flutter in her chest, surprised yet warmed by his honesty. She met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting a mix of emotions.

"I understand if it's difficult for you, Y/n," he continued, his voice gentle. "I know it hasn't been long for you, and I'm willing to wait. You deserve to take your time and open your heart when you're ready. I believe you're worth fighting for."

His words hung in the air, a quiet declaration of his feelings and his unwavering support. Y/n felt a rush of emotion wash over her, touched by his sincerity and the depth of his care.

"Thank you, Wonwoo," she finally said, her voice filled with gratitude. "Your honesty means a lot to me, and I truly appreciate your patience and understanding."

As they sat in the comfortable living room, the weight of their conversation seemed to settle around them. It was a pivotal moment, a shared understanding of the feelings that had blossomed between them. Together, they faced the uncertainty of what lay ahead, their bond strengthened by their shared vulnerability. They were ready to navigate the path forward, hand in hand, knowing that their connection was worth every step.

*

The room was cast in a hushed, early morning light, painting everything in a gentle, golden hue. Wonwoo's breaths gradually steadied as the remnants of his vivid dream began to recede. He gazed around the room, the unfamiliar surroundings of his father's villa causing a wave of disorientation to wash over him. It was as if he had been temporarily transported to another world, only to be abruptly pulled back to reality.

As Wonwoo sat there in the quiet villa, the weight of his realization settled heavily on his shoulders. The vividness of the dream still clung to him, like an echo of a life he had briefly lived. The laughter, the shared moments, the warmth of their connections—all of it felt so achingly real, yet he knew it was nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

A sense of yearning mingled with a quiet ache of loss, as if he had glimpsed a reality that was just out of reach. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, trying to grasp onto the fading threads of the dream. It was like trying to hold onto mist, slipping through his fingers, leaving him with a bittersweet ache.

The room around him seemed to close in, the walls of the villa pressing in on him. He longed to return to the moments he had experienced in that dream, to be with Giyong, Youngmi, and Y/n once more. But the cruel truth was that those moments were never real, just fragments of a slumbering mind.

His body felt weary and spent, the strain of the long drive from Seoul to his childhood hometown settling in his bones. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, attempting to shake off the lingering traces of the dream. Those moments with Giyong, Youngmi, and Y/n seemed to cling to him, the emotions and sensations feeling almost too tangible, too real.

As another thud resonated through the villa, Wonwoo's senses sharpened, his heart quickening with a surge of adrenaline. He moved with purpose, descending the stairs in swift strides. The urgency in his steps betrayed the underlying anxiety that still pulsed through him.

When he entered the kitchen, the sight of Y/n greeted him like a beacon of solace. She sat there, a picture of quiet comfort, munching on chips with a bucket of ice cream at her side. Her presence was a grounding force, a reassuring reminder that he was indeed back in reality.

Her eyes lifted to meet his, a hint of confusion softening the edges of her gaze. "Did I wake you up?"

Wonwoo's response was immediate and visceral. He shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "No, it's not that. I had a dream... I thought you were just a dream."

Y/n's laughter was a melodic, comforting sound. She reached out, her hand gentle as she patted his head, a soothing gesture that seemed to anchor him. "Well, I'm very much real, Wonwoo."

A sigh of relief escaped him, and he found himself leaning into her touch, seeking the solace she offered. Her scent, familiar and warm, enveloped him, dispelling the lingering traces of the dream that still clung to his senses.

She eased back, concern etched in the soft lines of her features. "Are you okay, Wonwoo?"

He met her gaze with a grateful smile, the depth of his appreciation mirrored in his eyes. "I am now, thanks to you."

Y/n extended a gentle invitation, patting the seat beside her, her eyes warm with affection. "Come join me." She nodded towards her chips and ice cream, a snack combination that had become a cherished indulgence since they learned about the little one growing inside her.

Wonwoo's heart swelled with a delicate mixture of tenderness and wonder. He moved to her side, their bodies settling in close companionship. The simplicity of sharing a snack held a profound significance, a quiet acknowledgement of the new journey they were about to embark on together.

As they sat in the tranquil villa, a sense of calm settled around them like a comforting embrace. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in a cocoon of shared intimacy. The promise of a new chapter in their lives hung in the air, a palpable presence that filled the room.

Wonwoo's gaze lingered on Y/n, his heart overflowing with gratitude for this moment. The dream, though fleeting, had left an indelible mark on him, blurring the boundaries between reality and imagination. Yet, here and now, with Y/n beside him, everything felt undeniably real. It was a tangible affirmation of the love, hope, and the promise of a bright future that lay ahead.

Their fingers brushed lightly as they reached for the snacks, a subtle connection that spoke volumes. Each gesture, each shared glance, was a silent promise to face the uncertainties of the future hand in hand. They were ready, together, to navigate the uncharted waters of parenthood, knowing that their bond was the anchor that would guide them through.

In the quietude of the villa, time seemed to suspend, leaving them in a precious bubble of shared anticipation. Every heartbeat echoed with the promise of new beginnings, of a love that would grow and evolve with each passing day.

As the day unfolded around them, Wonwoo and Y/n sat there, cherishing the moment. Their hearts beat in sync, a harmonious rhythm that set the tone for the journey that awaited them. They were ready to face the world, armed with the strength of their love and the unwavering promise of a future filled with endless possibilities.

*

Celebrated Actor Jeon Wonwoo Announces Joyous Pregnancy News with Non-Celebrity Wife

Three Years After Tying the Knot, the Couple Embarks on a New Chapter

---

Date: September 23, 20xx

Seoul, South Korea – In a heartwarming revelation, renowned actor Jeon Wonwoo, known for his exceptional talent and versatile roles, has shared the delightful news of his wife's pregnancy. The celebrated couple, who exchanged vows three years ago in a private ceremony, are now eagerly anticipating the arrival of their bundle of joy.

Jeon Wonwoo, recognized for his outstanding contributions to the entertainment industry, has captivated audiences with his memorable performances in a range of films and television dramas. His marriage to a non-celebrity three years ago was met with warm wishes and heartfelt support from fans and colleagues alike.

The actor's announcement of his wife's pregnancy comes as a source of great joy for both the couple and their admirers. This new chapter in their lives is met with much anticipation and excitement.

Friends and colleagues from the entertainment industry have extended their warmest congratulations to the soon-to-be parents. The news has also been met with an outpouring of love and well-wishes from fans worldwide, showcasing the deep affection and support they hold for the esteemed actor.

Jeon Wonwoo, known for his humility and dedication to his craft, has always kept his personal life private, focusing instead on delivering compelling performances that have garnered critical acclaim. This announcement is a rare glimpse into the actor's cherished moments, allowing fans to share in his happiness.

As the actor and his wife embark on this new journey together, their fans eagerly await the arrival of their little one, sending heartfelt wishes for health, happiness, and endless blessings.

The couple's journey into parenthood promises to be filled with love, support, and cherished memories. With the world watching, Jeon Wonwoo and his wife step into this exciting new chapter, ready to embrace the adventures of parenthood with open hearts.

The End.

[ivyprism]

H Sona Jobs: Revamp and New Part 2

Warnings: Angels, demons, etc.

Lillium is a guardian angel who takes care of flower fields.

Chamomile is a corrupted angel who is an executioner.

Eucalyptus works in a library but is otherwise hidden.

Freesia is a rogue demon who works as a bouncer.

Fleur is the Goddess of Magic and Ione is the Goddess of Dark.

Olearia is a Goddess of Potion and Wisteria is a Goddess of Magical Objects.

Floryn works in an archive/library/bookstore and is the keeper.

Deidamia was a bookstore owner.

Carnation is an idol.

Kalina is an idol.

Meadow is an idol.

Hepatica is a seer who lives quietly but gives fortunes.

Calanth was one of Lucien's companions.

Mimosa is a dance teacher.

Bluebell, Orchid, and Daffodil help watch over the dreamscape.

Clover is a traveler of the universe.

Gladiolus is a traveler of the universe.

Laurel doesn't have a job.

Harriet's job depends on the AU she's in.

Ixia is jobless and is forgotten.

Lilac is a mercenary.

Abelia helps the sorcerers with jobs.

Spirea helps the sorcerers with jobs.

Hesperis, Helichrysum, and Hydrastis are jobless because they're helping keep a community running.

Ianira is a creator.

Halldora and Haizea fuck around with plots.

Forsythia is a tutorial guide.

Bellatrix and Astria travel with the Sun and the Moon to help them.

Calytrix is an astronomer.

Meissa is an astronomy professor.

Yvaine makes astronomy maps.

Calendula is an adventurer.

Cadence is an adventurer.

Linnea is an adventurer.

-------

[captainhowlreportingforduty]

September 1975

((AN: Day two (Knowledge is Power) for the back to school challenge by @cursebreakerfarrier ! Have Galatea and her favourite class, Divination feat. wacky Tarot card lore and me shamelessly making up a random Professor.))

Galatea hushed from the Headmaster’s office towards the North Tower, where the Divination classroom was situated.

Professor Dumbledore had assured her that Professor Bunderhush knew of the deal they had agreed upon with Galatea’s mam in the summer holidays, but to be sure the Headmaster had handed her a note, in case Bunderhush should forget why a first year was sitting in on his Divination classes. 

Galatea was excited to see if the classes would benefit her, but her mam had always gone on about how important it was to train your Sight, so it probably wouldn’t go too bad. 

The ladder leading up to the circular trapdoor in the ceiling was already down, so she eagerly climbed it and scrambled semi-gracefully into the classroom.

It felt like when she would climb up into the attic back home, only here was less art and way more people.

Galatea stood in the middle of the room, openly gaping.

A bunch of circular tables with matching chairs were distributed around the room, dressed in heavy velvety lilac-blue tablecloths. Smoke wavered through the room, darkening the few rays of light that shine through the many layers of the translucent blue curtains.

It had to be some kind of incense, since the calming scents of lavender and thyme hung heavy in the air. Galatea’s mam used them for relaxation during Divination sessions as well.

But there was another scent, fresh and cool and sharp as a knife, probably to make sure the students wouldn’t fully doze off. She did recognise it from somewhere else. Mint.

Bless grandaunt Forsythia and her extensive herbal garden.

“Ah, Miss ferch Helyg!”

Professor Bunderhush had apparently not only noticed but also recognised Galatea, waving her over to his side. 

He was dressed in robes of the same fabric as the tablecloths and really, really old. Like, he looked older than great-grandma Camille in that one picture with Aunt Amaryllis back in September 1943, and she had been over 90 then.

The rumours made sense now, that Professor Bunderhush was only still teaching because Professor Dumbledore hadn’t found a replacement yet.

“It’s just Miss Helyg, Professor, unless it’s on official documents you can let the suffix slip.”

Professor Bunderhush smiled at her, showing off his countless laughter lines.

“Thank you, Miss Helyg. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I would say not to be intimidated by the older students, since they are as beginners as you are, but I’m afraid that wouldn’t be true, would it? You do already have practise in the art of Seeing, don’t you?”

Galatea smiled right back at him, albeit a bit more nervous.

“I do, well, in the practical elements at least. I have never, like, learned proper theory, which is why it’s so important for me to be here, I guess.”

“And right you are! Just go get yourself a free spot!”

Two girls were already sitting st the table Galatea chose.

They shot her puzzled looks before returning to their conversation, probably whispering about what a first year was doing here.

Galatea started chewing on a long strand of her curly black hair. A nervous habit she couldn’t bring herself to break, but it was this or chewing her nails off.

The girls’ talk was interrupted by Professor Bunderhush’s rough voice. That man really must’ve smoked quite some cigarettes in his undoubtedly long life.

Tarot cards. They were starting with Tarot cards.

Galatea wondered whether Professor Bunderhush could help her with the issues she’d been having.

She had seen her mother use the cards often enough and tried to use them herself once or twice. But they had always given her a terrible headache and a bunch of unsolicited advise, so she had eventually given up on them.

The cards always ended up oversharing information she hadn’t asked about, too many pictures she hadn’t even wanted to see.

But Professor Bunderhush explained the cards like Galatea had heard no one explain them before.

He walked them through specific spreads for different situations, stressing the importance of adapting the cards to the situation and always clearly stating one’s intentions. He told of the different categories in which the same card could take on slightly different meanings, job, finances, love and then free form.

Galatea shuffled through the deck of cards in front of her. Apparently, they were starting with the major arcana.

She saw the cards different now, clearer, despite the smoke in the room nothing was clouding her sight.

She knew their meanings, felt it in her bones whenever she would touch a card and feeling the familiar soft buzz in her head she would always get when seeing.

It wasn’t a heap of muddled associations now, for the first time she saw the meanings of the cards organised in front of her inner eye, in their respective categories love, job and finances, branching off of the central meaning.

She had it under control, she was finally in control over her talent. At least at the moment.

One of the girls at the table cleared her throat. Galatea looked up from the cards.

“Hey, you’re good at this, right? I mean, with the whole you being a first year even though this class is for third years... umm at least I hope you’re not in my year, otherwise this is going to get awkward... but yeah...”

“No, I’m a first year. I’m a Seer though, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Galatea wasn’t afraid to say it. It was who she was, after all, and better they head it from her than they get surprised by some random prophecy or vision.

It had happened before and Galatea was sure it would happen again. That’s why she was taking the class, wasn’t it?”

“Ummm... yeah, that’s cool. We actually need your help. We somehow got the Lovers even though we weren’t asking about a relationship?”

Galatea’s curiosity was piqued.

She knew this. Could do this, could read this.

“Well then, show me your spread.”

And she felt the buzzing behind her eyes as she sorted the spread for the two girls, connected the cards, shows them the elements they were associated with and why that did matter.

Galatea ended up concluding the right zodiac sign for the girl whose spread it was and, judging by her pale face, had uncovered a pretty accurate reason for her nightmares.

The cards always came to call you out, after all.

And not once did the buzzing in her head spread to turn into a fully fledged headache.

[straytraineraria]

🌈 'sup. i'm aria. unovan transfer student in paldea's uva academy, hobbyist breeder/trainer, and your local catperson ( in both ways ).

🧶 i don't really do much other than just kinda exploring, catching pokemon, n' doing classes. i did complete the paldea dex that one time and maybe stopped a few threats and i may or may not be a supplier of a good few of the various professor's starter pokemon but yknoooow. typical stuff compared to things othr ppl r doin

🌻 my """ace""" ( in many quotes bc i never have consistent teams ) is a meowscarada the head of uva gifted me who i named forsythia. he's showy and loves doing tricks for ppl so i sometimes have him outside of his ball so he can show off. if ur ever in paldea and see a meowscarada in mesagoza chances are it might be mine lol

🔴 you can battle me if u want ig but i dont battle suuuuper duper competitively. like yea i know what evs and ivs are and i try to maximize my favorite pokemons ones since thats rlly cheap nowadays ( bottlecaps used to be sm more expensive ) but other than that i dont do much else

🖌️i also like uh, drawing and writing and stuff like that a lot but i only rlly post abt that stuff online lol. i've wanted to be a musician but learning stuff other than singing is hard, and same w/ game dev stuff. codings hard. but i also play games ofc ofc. i love splatoon 3 n im good at my ursaco shifts >:3c

idk what else 2 put here. uhh. have fun

______

OOC:

hiiii this is a pokemon irl blog :3

anyone can interact. pokemon, pokepasta, rp blogs, non-pokemon related blogs, whoever tf!!! the excuse is just "alt timelines/dimensions" etc for crossover stuff or different pokemon rpers/irl blogs who have diff rules

RULES | ABOUT ARIA ( IC ) | ABOUT ARIA ( OOC )

🌀 the character being played is aria! a 19 year old pokemon trainer ( who is also uh. a catperson. ) enrolled in naranja-uva academy ( specifically uva ) and just sort of exploring the world to find themselves and all. they/he pronouns. if you want more go here.

the character is an AU of my persona based on my playthrough of pokemon violet specifically but is also just generally based on my experience with pokemon - except mixed with if it was in real life. they aren't 100% me bc that'd probably make things weird, but they are mostly made up of my segments and parts hence. them being a sona.

⚠️ most of the way this blog goes abt the whole pokemon irl and related stuff doesn't follow any super specific rules or anything. of course, it follows most of the groundwork of that and stuff, but its a little mixed with canon pokemon a little more so it might be a little more outlandish as opposed to the more grounded ( quote unquote ) nature of most pkmn irl blogs. it's still mostly grounded, just like, everso slightly more akin to the pokemon games for a little more wiggleroom. also whatever the natural catboyism is about. it is not explained nor will be probably.

⚡ "yes and"-ing / improv is very important for any pkmn irl blog but if anything doesn't follow Your blogs canon the explanation is probably just "timeline bullshit" or "don't think abt it too hard" with some specific things ( the fact aria is a catboy just, like, naturally ). u can point these out but aria will just be like "lol? that's always how its been"

🔔 follow me if u r interested... i will post now and again. I do not know how to make good info/first posts.

____

❤️ ooc, i am a young adult and use he/they pronouns.

🐈 i am. also named aria. aria's a self-insert/sona but at the same time not really. it's complicated, but there's enough levels of separation where things won't be weird i prommy.

🐱 idrc who interacts, but do note i'm fine with suggestive jokes but they'll be tagged like that and not taken further than just jokes + i probably won't make them that often? just if smth asks me smth like that or if i see an Opportunity for a joke.

✨ magic anons are allowed but i have the right to refuse them.

📧 asks are allowed and so are interactions, ofc ofc

⚠️ i likely won't tag unreality / high stakes pokereality unless any post feels particularly hard to distinguish, so heres your warning; this blog contains unreality since these blogs r for acting as if pokemon are real!

⛔ of course as always bigots, terfs, prosh/ppers, etc DNI ⛔

anyways have fun!

[finishinglinepress]

FLP CHAPBOOK OF THE DAY: The Early Days of This by Jacqueline Sullivan

TO ORDER GO TO:

https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/the-early-days-of-this-by-jacqueline-sullivan/

RESERVE YOUR COPY TODAY

Jacqueline Sullivan‘s poems have appeared in numerous journals including Cold Mountain Review, The Briar Cliff Review, Slant, The Maine Review, and Common Ground Review. She is an attorney and has also been a Joshua A. Guberman Teaching Fellow and Lecturer at Brandeis University, a lecturer at Northeastern University, and a lecturer at Boston University School of Law. This is her first chapbook.

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR The Early Days of This by Jacqueline Sullivan

Jacqueline Sullivan’s startling collection juxtaposes what Elizabeth Bishop called the art of losing—remnants, distances, absences, an elegy “in place of” a funeral, incomplete dates carved upon a gravestone—with the renewal offered by the natural world. “Raggedy tendrils” of yellow forsythia, “daffodils at prayer,” robins, swallows, and a “reappearing bluebird” bring comfort and a sense of connectedness. Her chapbook explores this theme with wry, understated sonnet structures, subtle rhymes, and surprising lines that take you unawares: “how before/ time passed everything was/ a beginning,” how “yesterday’s a door half-open.” Each poem is alive with freshly observed details. Sullivan tells us, indeed, that any depiction of what is lost should include something as small as “a sparrow, tiny and dark, [. . .] so even if no one is watching there will still be a witness.”

–Susan Elizabeth Sweeney, Ph.D., Distinguished Professor of Arts and Humanities, College of the Holy Cross

“before/ time passed everything was/ a beginning…” and so it is with the world of Jacqueline Sullivan’s chapbook collection The Early Days of This. These poems resonate with flowers, birds, memory, and art, all transient and necessary to the poet and her family. Evoking religious iconography, or a print of Bonnard, or the words of Pushkin, or the student poet’s translation of Virgil’s Aeneid, Sullivan holds the caught image examined from where it arrived to where it is let go. The poet pays reverent attention to what is present, a nephew mowing the lawn who “could have been micro-tiled in Rome,” or her mother’s “jet-black hair …let go as white as marble.” Tender and heartbreaking, these poems ask us to look with care because life is beautiful and all too brief.

–Carol Hobbs, author of New-found-land

Jacqueline Sullivan’s poems help us see the mystical, the magical, and the mythic in everyday events. For example, she convinces us that a neighbor struggling with the heavy root ball of a tree he’s planting is actually “Sisyphus” with his “burlap captive”. She transforms ordinary biscuits cooking on a cast iron frying pan into “ships bumping about on a black sea” turning into “color and puff, curved and amber-chested.” These poems are quiet, musical, watchful, filled with fresh air, and bound to delight.

–Grey Held, author of Two Star General

Please share/please repost [PROMO]

#flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #poetry #chapbook #read #poems

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅲ)

here's a list of my favourite jungkook fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed ♡

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

The painter by @7deadlysinsfics s a (strangers to lovers au painter jk dom jk)

queen of broken hearts by @bratkook s a (one sided love jk's in love but oc isn't)

clairvoyant by @bratkook f s a (shy roommate jungkook college au) ft. Fuck boy Taehyung

netflix & chill series by @1kook s a

two rotten apples by @chickenkooks s a (neighbours who hate each other enemies to lovers au)

not a date by @bubmyg f (enemies to lovers au college au)

somewhere only we know by @taeiest s a (hybrid au college au)

once you realize by @kooala f (friends to lovers au)

The truce by @thebangtantale (enemies to lovers au fake dating au)

why we broke up by @jjeongukkie a (social media au)

Finding forever by @kookiejoonie f s a (cheating depression violence) ft. Ex husband Yoongi

Night Changes by @neonlights92 s a (fuck boy jk college au rom com enemies to lovers au)

friends, lovers or nothing by @pazzarovisky f s a (best friends to lovers? au)

day by day by @hansolmates f s a (dilf jk idiots to lovers/best friend to lovers au)

one-shot

trust issues by @7deadlysinsfics f s (drummer jk bar au strangers to lovers au)

heartbreak anniversary by @pbandjk f a (exes au dad jk)

heartbreak anniversary 2 by @pbandjk

Making Him Jealous by @parkmuse s (roommate au threesome) ft. Jimin

Zipper by @parkmuse s (best friends au they watch porn together)

The golden boy by @luxekook s (enemies to lovers au)

stay in your lane by @luxekook f s (enemies to lovers au college au)

Concrete king by @bratkook f s (summer romance)

A hero's journey by @hansolmates f s a (best friends boyfriend au pinning au)

spring will come again by @baepsaesbae f s a (virgin jk)

How to Make Him Cum 101 by @mimithings97 f s a (college au)

order up by @ressjeon s (restaurant au strangers to lovers au)

tutor me by @hisunshiine f s (college au student jk tutor reader)

backstage by @hisunshiine s (idol au sowoozoo jungkook 😉)

platinum panther by @arcticmarshmallow f s a (dilf jk spoiled bratty reader)

through the night by @nightbts f a (idol au friends to lovers au stylist reader)

I'm kinda into you by @intokook f (fuck boy jk friends to lovers au high school au)

extra credit by @jeonsjiddies s (professor reader student jk)

in between by @luffles424 s (college au twin au)

Golden by @kingsuckjin​ f s a (friends to lovers ex jin cheating au but its sorta sad yandere au) ft. Cheating BF Seokjin

first and last by @kookiesjoonies s (friends to lovers au)

the best thing he never had by @rosaetae a (friends to lovers au)

Oh brother by @kookdiaries s (brother's best friend au college au)

today's special is... by @dntaewithluv f s (boyfriend jk)

Cockblocked by @mercurygguk f s a (roommate au friends/idiots to lovers au)

s is for sexy by @kpopfanfictrash f

forsythia by @aechana f s a (band au friends to lovers au slow burn)

learning the hard way by @littlemisskookie f s (noona reader dom jk)

pen pals (with benefits) by @bangtanhome f s a (enemies to lovers au friends with benefits to lovers au college au)

bare necessities by @gguksgalaxy f s (established relationship au)

candy cane ache by @monvante f s a (enemies to lovers au fake dating au based on the movie the proposal)

[msukevin]

target practice

✘ CLOSED STARTER — @msuforsythia​

In the middle of the magical forest located on the outskirts of the campus, anyone would wonder: why? Well, the answer was simple. He was here for a school assignment. To which, again, anyone would wonder: why??? Kevin Seo actually doing an assignment? Unheard of! Except when it involved some fine witches to admire. It was the exact reason he’d even registered for the class, anyway. And while he would have been disappointed to have not been paired with the very person he’d intended to take the course with, he definitely wasn’t upset with who he’d been assigned to instead.

“Forsythia, right?” He’d chanted the name over and over again until this fated weekend had arrived, not wanting to fuck things up before they even began. And taking their difference of class standing into consideration, Kevin knew he had to prove his worth somehow. But what he lacked in brains, he made up for with brawn. And since they would be camping out for the weekend in search of a porlock (conveniently provided by their professor for the purpose of the assignment), the boy’s ego was not about to let him embarrass himself in the presence of a lady.

“I went camping a few times with my dad as a kid, I can set up our tents if you’d like!” He offered eagerly.

[puyondraws]

Preview: Captain’s Cowardice/Captain’s Courage

Chapter 4: Lab Coat Festival to be Held at the Galaxy Hall

——

“H-help!!!! Heeeeelp!!! Somebody help me!!!”

The frantic cry of a woman’s voice immediately sent Cyllene running towards the source of the panicked shouting, leaving behind her two party members that were too slow to respond.

She gripped the sword at her waist, internally prepared to strike down some cutthroat that was threatening a poor civilian. As she turned the corner down the overgrown path outside of Petalfall Village, she saw a familiar person scaling a tree as a pack of Poochyena nipped at the tails of her lab coat.

Cyllene let go of her sword and switched to her Pokéball, summoning Abra. “Abra! Teleport those Poochyena away from here!!”

Abra obeyed. With a swirl of its claws, the three irate dogs disappeared in a flash of light. The woman hanging off the tree slowly slid down before landing clumsily on her bum. Cyllene approached her and held out a hand.

“Are you unharmed, Professor Forsythia?” She asked as she helped the older woman to her feet.

Forsythia adjusted her glasses with a chuckle. She straightened out her fluffy blonde hair to the best of her ability. “Why, Miss Cyllene. It’s been awhile…” she said with a smug smile. “I see you’ve learned how to deal with Pokémon in a more tasteful manner.”

Cyllene’s Abra floated close by, nudging against her arm. She patted the Psychic-type on the head, while staring back at Forsythia. “…I… am still sorry for what I did to that Heracross back then.”

The sounds of hurried footsteps in the dirt path caught their attention. Kamado and Beni finally managed to catch up.

“Is everything alright?!” Kamado asked, clearly distressed.

Forsythia gestured to herself with a wave of her oversized lab coat sleeves. “Quite, I’d say. Cyllene sent those Poochyena away to—“ she paused. “To… uhm. Cyllene, where did you send those Poochyena to?”

Cyllene met the question with a blank stare. She felt all eyes on her as she failed to produce an answer. “I’m not certain. Abra tends to choose the destination.”

Forsythia clicked her tongue. “That doesn’t sound particularly responsible—“

From deeper in the woods, the startled scream of a man caught the group’s attention.

“Oh, shit. Faris…!!” Forsythia gasped.

“Kamado! Beni! Please look after Forsythia!”The two men nodded and once again, Cyllene was bolting away, Abra flying close besides her.

As she approached the source of the scream, she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard a single loud “BANG!!”. The Poochyena fled from out the underbrush, ignoring Cyllene completely. She held out her Pokéball and called Abra back inside.

There was no mistaking what she heard. That was the sound of a pistol going off.

She heard footsteps and grumbling from beyond the overgrown vines in the woods. Warily, she drew her sword and held it defensively in front of her.

“My word… where did those troublesome dogs even come from…?” She watched the vines shake in front of her as a brown hand pushed away the overgrowth. “It’s as if they were teleported right behind me! Now I’ve lost track of the Shroomish…”

He was a tall man with some visible weight. Atop his head were dark black curls of hair and upon his face was a scruffy, patchy beard. Like Forsythia, he too was wearing a lab coat, but over a mode of dress she’d only seen from foreigners arriving in Slateport from far away regions.

He was looking over his surroundings before looking straight in front him, finally spotting the sword pointed right at his nose. He jumped back with a yelp, stumbling over a root and bumping his side against the trunk of a tree. Upon impact, another loud “BANG!!” went off from his pocket, causing Cyllene to flinch and point her sword straight at him.

“D-d-dark heavens!! Spare me!!” He cowered, holding his arms over his head.

“What was that sound?!” She demanded.

He stared back with wide eyes. “The— the scatterbang you mean…??” He held out one hand as he slipped the other into his coat pocket. He slowly slipped out a deflated blue bag that resembled a Wobbuffet. “It’s just— it’s something I use to- to startle Pokémon should I need a quick escape.”

She blinked. So it wasn’t gunfire after all. Cyllene slid her sword back into its scabbard with an embarrassed sigh. “Excuse me.”

“Faaaaris?!?!” Forsythia called as she stumbled through the woods, Kamado and Beni following from close behind. “Faris!! Are you alright?!”

“Uh— yes, Professor Forsythia. I’m fine. Except I swear I was about to lose my head just now!!” The man answered with a nervous, yet casual tone. “No need to panic.”

“Is this man your assistant?” Beni asked Forsythia.

She shook her head. “No. Faris, introduce yourself.”

He nodded and stood as straight as he could. “Greetings. I am Professor Faris Laventon, a wandering researcher from the Galar region.” He went to reach out a hand before clumsily drawing it back to his side, opting to bow instead. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I am Kamado, leader of the Hisui Expedition Project.” Kamado stepped forward towards Laventon. “Beni over there is my right hand. This is Cyllene, our liaison for the Hoenn region.”

“Hisui Expedition Project…?” Laventon echoed curiously. “Goodness, what are you doing here in Hoenn, then?”

“We’ve only just begun recruitment efforts for our cause,” Beni answered. “Cyllene brought us out here towards Littleroot, hoping we can meet more scientific folks like yourself.”

“Is that so?” Forsythia hummed. “Why don’t we all go to my lab in Littleroot? Discuss things where we won’t get mauled by a Poochyena or Zigzagoon.”

“Hah!” Laventon laughed. “ ‘Mauled’, you say. The Zigzagoon here are far too mild to cause such damage. You wouldn’t survive a second with the ones in Galar.”

“Nonetheless, I agree with Professor Forsythia,” Kamado stated with a gruff tone, his intense expression barely hiding his paranoid glancing. “No matter what you believe, Pokémon should not be underestimated.”

“Very well,” Laventon agreed, placating the other man. “En route, do tell me more about this Expedition Project!”

………

Cyllene exhaled slowly as the memory came back to her. It was no short exaggeration to say that Laventon joining the Galaxy Expedition Team wildly changed the course of her fate.

[professor-forsythia]

What do you think about Jolteon?

Ah, Jolteon. It’s one of the most famous Electric Types due to the recognition its pre-evolution, Eevee, receives. However, due to the assumptions people place on Eevee, they can be quite surprised that their Jolteon isn’t the type of Pokémon they initially expected! All Eevelutions are known for their loyalty, but Jolteon is one of the rare ones in the line that makes you earn that trust and friendship once more upon evolving. While its contemporaries in the evolutionary family like Espeon, Sylveon, and Umbreon evolve due to friendship/affection, and thusly keep that trust and respect upon evolving, Jolteon, after evolving and coming into its own power, has a habit of making its Trainers reaffirm their skill and power before it listens to their Trainer once more, which is usually something Trainers expect from Dark or Dragon Types. Jolteon are often prone to mood swings as well, especially when their Trainers experience their own or when the weather is suffering harsh changes (which is when they store up their power). This is why Jolteon isn’t recommended for Trainers going through puberty or suffering from mental health issues, as they are a very demanding Pokémon, and not necessarily ‘low effort’. While every Pokémon needs love and exercise, Electric Types are one of the Types that absolutely necessitate the ‘exercise’ part. This is how they both store up and burn off their excess electricity. Alongside Jolteon’s natural temperamental state, their fur actually long needles, which they use to charge up their electrical attacks, so if their Trainer is unskilled in grooming, they’re going to receive a nasty shock, which could theoretically tank the Trainer/Pokémon relationship even further.This isn’t to say Jolteon is a lost cause, or someone shouldn’t try training one. Jolteon as a species simply require more effort than say, your average Mareep. Jolteon, once their trust is earned, is a great exercise companion, especially if you like running; a fantastic explorer (if you’re into hiking, for example); loves the rain and can cheer one up on dreary days with its boundless love for lightning; and like its evolutionary contemporaries will be there for you through both the best of times and the worst of times. Like all Pokémon, it takes love, effort, and time, and you’ll have a steadfast -but moody- friend.

- With Regards, Professor Lucas Forsythia

[gemstonedragon]

I like to think that Flowey’s relationship with his daughter Forsythia and his other kids in general is like a mix of Simba’s relationship with Kiara and  Professor Venomous ‘s relationship with  Fink.

[lanawalkers-blog]

Purefit Keto Reviews?

women who ate 3 food a day, which consisted of simplest 30% of carbohydrates, had a 30% reduction in insulin resistance. folks that ate 3 food an afternoon with 60% carbohydrates, had no reduction in resistance and also did now not reduce their insulin levels.

this is, exactly the opposite of what the observe subsidized through the food industry that is struggling damage desires to speak.

anything you observed isn't true?

Low Carib weight-reduction plan Purefit Keto Reduces existence Expectancy?

Low Carib food plan Reduces lifestyles Expectancy

It isn't always what the examine admits. (however that doesn't sell newspaper, nor does it get right of entry to the sites that published the subject in 1/2)

Professor Nita Forsythia of the epidemiology unit of the college of Cambridge scientific studies Council who turned into no longer involved in the observe said: "A in reality critical message from this look at is that it isn't always enough to cognizance on vitamins however whether they're derived from resources animals or flora ".

https://www.usadrugguide.com/purefit-keto/

[greasygyeom]

Title: Look at Me

By: GreasyGyeom

Summary: Graduation Ceremony and a sea of people, will you be able to make it through the day? Jinyoung x Reader. Angst/Fluff. Trigger Warning: Death

Playlist: 170830

Author’s Note: (i) San-nakji (산낙지) is a variety of raw dish made with long arm octopus. Although the octopuses are killed before cut into small pieces and served, the nerve activity in the octopus’ tentacles makes the pieces still squirming posthumously on the plate when served.

(ii) I’ve always thought music and reading goes really well together. It’s new format I’m trying. If you would like some soothing bgm that goes with the piece, hit up the link above! It’s a great way to share music too, so let me know if it worked out for you!! Love <3 <3

Graduation day.

Yes, it’s graduation day; the day you finally complete five years of studying art. The day you get that stamp of approval from a bunch of really old people that you are indeed qualified to freely express your mind via any visual medium necessary.

You lay in bed, twisted awkwardly, thinking about the day ahead of you and dread every unholy second that inches it closer.

Social situations make you uncomfortable and jittery. You talk too fast, you tap your feet a lot and your attention span reduces to that of a 15 year old adrenaline junkie in the worlds biggest amusement park, who is constantly nauseated but out of compulsion needs to experience every ride.

But, things are always different when he’s around. Suddenly being in a crowd feels less like a clown circus and more like an art gallery where you’re able to glide through without your head exploding.

So the only activity you are actually looking forward to is seeing Jinyoung, because he somehow manages to make things better, every time.

Thinking about getting on stage, your brain automatically begins to list the scenarios that could cause potential embarrassment. Tripping and falling on and over numerous objects takes up the first few bullet numbers — spearheading your decision to wear boots — flat boots.

You pick up a dress to go with it. Of course it’s all black — you rarely pick any other colour — and pair it with some simple silver accessories.

You force yourself out of the semi-coma you’ve been lying in and take a quick shower. The anxiety begins to spread through your body. You consider tidying up your room in an effort to sooth yourself, an invisible pros and cons list already forming in your brain.

The cons list wins, obviously. You possibly can’t clean every nook and cranny in the time available and if you had to leave the process of cleaning half way through, it would give you more anxiety than you initially began with. You really have no choice but to breathe and drink water.

Tissues. Your brain suddenly buzzes as you close the bottle cap, like a phone alarm springing to life on snooze; because what if something or someone spills liquids - no, worse, solids - on you.

You spend a considerable amount of time looking for the soft kind for runny noses in case you felt especially teary, the rough kind for cleaning that didn’t leave paper traces all over clothes and the wet kind for miscellaneous germ related quirks.

You take your time to get ready, switch on some music and mildly successfully dance away your nervousness.

But somewhere in the middle you let out a yawn.

Coffee, you need so much coffee to go through with this day.

As usual, your irrational fear of not waking up on time has kept you up through the night and as a collateral not only have you been awake for more than 24 hours you’ve also managed to get ready to leave almost an hour early.

“Should have listened to him.” You absentmindedly speak to your dull grey walls and proceed to ‘Netflix and chill’ on your sofa (without the innuendos involved, of course).

After 40 minutes of being on the edge of your seat while watching Stranger, you check the contents of your bag, one final time.

Time really does fly past when you’re engrossed in Jo Seung-Woo’s brilliant acting.

You quickly throw in your lip-balm and check the clock. Five minutes. You scramble to make sure all the plug points are switched off in your apartment — a quirk you’ve picked up from Jinyoung.

You lock up and head downstairs to find a cab.

Of course it rains down on the day you need to step out.

You don’t live too far from campus, you can easily walk it, but choose not to get splashed with muddy water by an inconsiderate driver. With your luck, the chances of it happening are magnified.

Your phone leaps to life as you sit inside the car. There’s an instant smile on your face.

“Hey Moon, all set?” he asks from the opposite end of the line.

“As set as I could be, I think.”

He can hear your anxiety through the phone. “You didn’t sleep. I told you I could call you and wake you up.”

“I know, I should’ve listened to you.”

He chuckles. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you yesterday. I really wanted to. I wanted to drive you up on your big graduation day.”

“Aw, it’s alright Peach, it’s not that big of a deal. But, I’ll be seeing you later yeah?”

“Of course it’s big deal! I’m actually just dropping some paperwork at the torture chamber right now, I’ll come as soon as I’m done.

Are you nervous?”

You laugh at his torture chamber comment.

“A little maybe? I just don’t want to…. be embarrassed in any way, that’s all. I just need the universe to be this kind today. Get in get out — no fu - udge ups,’ you sheepishly conclude, patting yourself for not actually mouthing the profanity.

His dislike for foul language is as vehement as your dislike for raw octopus, so you seldom cross that line.

You can mentally see his eyes wrinkle around the edges, at your syllabic swerve. A windy snicker reaches your ears. “Nice save dummie, you were so close to eating san-nakji today.

“Never.” you declare with an unwavering determination; the very thought of un cooked food — and not just any food, seafood — sending a shiver down your spine. “Anyway, I’ve reached Uni…. almost. See you when I see you, Peach.”

You hang up and mentally prepare yourself for hypothetical social interactions that may or may not take place, through the rest of the distance.

When you step foot on the cobblestones of your campus, you take in all the air you can. It’s not that you can’t breathe, you really can — but who’s going to convince your brain that.

In the five years you spent locked up in the art halls, studying anatomy, inhaling acrylic paint fumes, you acquaint yourself with a handful of people, none of whom you wish to bump into, at least not alone. Unfortunately, with your only actual friend away on vacation you’re left to suffer the sea of students alone, until Jinyoung’s arrival.

You push your earphones in and switch on your playlist, letting the sweet sounds of the guitar serenade your tense nerves.

Everywhere you look there’s parents following their children to designated seats, going to the art gallery where all the final projects are displayed, buying souvenirs, visiting the mess doing things together and that imagery starts unraveling a tightly sewn hole inside your heart.

You yawn again.

Coffee.

You’re not in the mood for any kind of physical exercise, but you could also walk to the edge of this earth for a cup of good coffee, Kunzum was luckily on a few ways away.

“Hey Minsoo.” you greet your regular barista, at the campus cafe - your safe place.

“Same order?”

“Yeah, Iced Caramel Macchiato, extra strong.”

“Coming right up. You need a doughnut to go with?”

“No, I’m gonna pass on that. I thought you guys would be shut today?”

“I kept it open just for you.”

You realise how much you would miss your bants with him. He’d been your only source of caffeine for 5 years. He probably knows you better than your classmates ever will.

“Should I keep an Americano ready for Jinyoung?”

“You’re the best, Minsoo.“

He grins through his heavy beard and moustache.

The cafe is in a quaint corner of the campus, surrounded by shrubs of Forsythia. Spring was never your season, but as you sit there by your favourite window seat and reminisce the divinity of your campus with the cold-ish winds and sun kissed yellow flowers blooming all over, you can’t help but feel slightly gloomy. You would no longer be able to watch your favourite cherry blossom tree unfold before your eyes.

A deep sigh escapes you, suddenly roadblocking your throat.

You spent five years preoccupied with deadlines and keeping up with your professors and libraries and finessing techniques and it only just dawns on you how empty your schedule is going to be henceforth.

A degree in art isn’t exactly a gateway to becoming a well paid corporate ring leader — not that you want to be one either — but your mind is making you second guess yourself at this point. Maybe you should have gotten that degree in psychology.

“Macchiato right out of the freezer.” Minsoo interrupts, placing the take away cup on your table. You check your phone - still almost an hour for the actual ceremony to commence.

You take in a sip of familiarity.

Your memories race back to a time when you were in your second year — when you’d met Jinyoung in this very cafe for the first time. You smile vaguely, picturing him in the seat by the wall, so engrossed in and visibly distressed by Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore.

The details are a little hazy — it has been three years after all — but what you remember with utmost clarity is the way his expression changed, as he read along the plot twist; how he nodded his head gently as he understood the subtleties of the text.

He had looked so genuine, diving into the depths of what you considered Mr. Murakami’s best work. He’d caught you staring and you had very uncharacteristically smiled back, instead of hiding your face in embarrassment.

He’d ended up buying you another coffee. You’d ended up staying there with him till closing time. The nostalgia makes you weary.

“Miss me?” His face comes into focus.

You’re unable to hide your surprise. “How did you know I was here?”

“I asked myself, where would my caffeine addicted girlfriend be on this campus and my genius brain led me here,” he replies, bending to kiss you on the cheek.

“Some day you’re going to get punched in the face because of your smart mouth.”

You grin, he pouts.

“Your coffee is ready by the way,” you inform, pointing towards Minsoo.

Jinyoung returns holding the donut you had earlier declined.

“Eat,” he says, shoving it in your hand.

You find it difficult to say no to him.

“See you later Minsoo,” you chime from the doorway, gulping in your coffee.

“I want to see your project,” Jinyoung tells you.

“You want to…. see my final project?’

“Why the rhetoric?”

“No! I was just wondering…why?”

He looks at you with a blank expression, his mouth slightly open and his very plump lips curving into a slight o; conveying his feelings with a slight exaggeration.

“Moon, you nearly starved yourself trying to finish it. I want to see what’s more important than food, for you.”

“Only food is important.”

“More important than I am?” he teases.

“You’re a Peach, you’re food alright.”

He laughs, habitually covering up his face to stop his teeth from showing. How you hate that habit of his.

You turn left at the next corridor and make way towards the gallery. Truth be told, even you hadn’t seen your work, post submission. You are just as curious to see what it looks like hanging from a wall.

Walking through those halls next to each other feels like déjà vu from Jinyoung’s graduation two years ago; a time when you weren’t even sure if your relationship would make it beyond the walls of your school.

“Nothing’s changed, but everything’s changed,” Jinyoung breathes in, entering through the gallery doors.

You look around, “It’s that one, the diptych,” you point at two frames, 3rd from the door.

He’s in disbelief and doesn’t hide it. You watch him watch the artwork carefully. He studies it the same way you remember him studying Murakami — with absolute diligence.

He finally looks at you. “You made us?”

Your eyes bolt to the floor. You don’t anticipate the embarrassment that is now painting your cheeks red.

“It’s beautiful.”

Did he really call it beautiful?

“You like it?” you ask, fiddling with your hands.

“Theres a boy, sitting and reading a book on the moon,” he analyses the diptych with a smile on his face. “The same boy is at a coffee shop with the moon shining above. It’s so poetic.”

“I — thanks,” you blurt out. “I tried to not be cheesy about it.”

It was, however, a mild confession of how deeply he had impacted your life. Somewhere in these 3 years he’d started calling you Moon, and somewhere — thinking about it in the last few months — your artwork had come to life.

He looks at you deeply, like he’s searching for something in your soul. You feel transparent under his gaze. He can see through all your walls and peek into your heart without you wanting to fight that feeling of being exposed and vulnerable.

You know what he wants to say, even though he doesn’t say it. He’s subtle like that, always talking with his eyes.

There’s an announcement about the ceremony and the gallery starts to empty out instantaneously.

You yelp and hide behind Jinyoung after spotting one of your acquaintances.

Please let him not find me — you’re quite literally begging the universe at this point.

“Moon, he’s waving at you.”

“No, oh god no.”

“Hi!” Daehyun excitedly greets you. He’s…..chirpy, as always. “It’s great I ran into you, I was just telling my parent’s about you! Your piece! It’s amazing!“

“Haha, thanks. It’s alright, I guess”. Your fake laugh is terrible.

“Did your parent see it? Are they here? Oh man! They must be so proud!”

Your heart falls to the bottom of your stomach.

“I’m with —“ your voice betrays you.

“I’m here with her,” Jinyoung takes over, wrapping his arm around you to keep you from falling.

“You said your parents were here? Are you making them wait? It’s not polite to make your parents wait like that”.

The harshness in his tone combined with the kindness in his eyes throws Daehyun off-guard. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, sorry. I should really get back to them. I’ll see you after the ceremony!” he smiles, bows and runs off.

When Jinyoung turns to you, there’s nothing but worry lines all across his face. “Are you okay?”

You nod, wanting to put his troubles to rest in one go, “I’m fine, Peach”.

He leads you through the arched hallway towards the ceremony grounds. “I’ll see you on stage. You’ll do great.”

You smile nervously as your mind edges closer towards panic mode.

“I should not have let you drink that coffee,” he sighs, catching your hands in his and rubbing them gently. He knows the numbness has reached your fingertips already, seeing how fidgety you are.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. They’ll call my name, and I will walk on stage and walk off stage and I will be fine,” you reply reassuringly, talking more to yourself than him.

“I can see you get your degree from the side, I don’t mind.”

You gently decline his offer, “I want you seated and looking proud of me.”

“I’m already proud of you, Moon.”

His encouragement gives you some strength, but against the influx of 6 year old repressed feelings, it feels a tad bit inadequate.

A high tide washes over you, drenching your consciousness with bitter sweet memories. You wish for your parents. You wish for them to be with you so desperately in this moment.

The speeches begin; your hear starts to race. You pacify yourself with the incentive of it being over soon. But then what?

What are you supposed to do when you get back home. Tomorrow? In a week? What about three months later when you’re still lying on your cold floor, still asking for a bus to hit you one day.

No no no.

No.

You’re not going to do this.

A violent siren triggers in your mind. The darkness begins to widen as an old wound stares you at point blank range. The accident. The cremation. The funeral. The people. So many people, sitting, waiting for you to say something. To tell them how unfortunate it is that your parents passed away. How regretful you feel that you couldn’t even tell them goodbye. How terrified you are of leading a life without them. How proud you wanted to make them.

Your name is announced — Once. Twice.

The third time you snap out of your daze.  

Stumbling forward with what feels like an anchor lodged in your chest, you step onto the stage, cross all the board of directors and shake hands with the dean.

“First Division, very impressive.”

“Thank you, Sir.” you absent-mindedly reply, taking the scroll in your hand.

You want to run away from there as soon as possible because you don’t know how much longer you could hold off the tears welling up inside you.

Jinyoung sees through your exterior, just from how withdrawn and controlled your body language is. His eyes follow you off the stage; you vanish in a split second.

He immediately dials your number.

The number you have dialled is currently busy.

“Ah no, Moon,” he sighs under his breath and gets up to leave. He apologises to everyone in the row for causing a disturbance and sprints, as soon as he’s away from the crowd, in what he thinks to be the right direction.

His foot steps echo through the empty buildings, louder than a snare.

He tries your number again, only to get the same response. He stops in the middle of the atrium; realising the absurdity of running a wild goose chase.

He rakes his brain for your hiding spots.

The cafe is out of the question, Minsoo would ask questions.

The classrooms are shut.

The park outside your main arts building is closed for landscaping.

It leaves only one viable place — the library.

He takes a u-turn and exits through the gym, going through a shortcut to your favourite place on the campus. Out of the 5 libraries, he goes to the one farthest from the main campus — the one closest to the forest.

“Did a girl come through here, maybe fifteen minutes ago?” he asks the proxy-librarian in a hushed whisper.

“Maybe,” the man replies.

Maybe — he could work with maybe. He skips three steps at a time on the stairway to reach the 3rd floor and heads to the section he’s hoping to find you hiding in.

His footsteps soften in an effort to not startle you.

You’re sitting on the small stool people usually climb on to reach the top shelf — hunched over, shaking, hiding your face in your palms, breathing shallow and fast, in the middle of a pool of tissue papers.

You feel some movement around you, but couldn’t be bothered by it.

“Hey Moon, please forget to fall down. Hey Moon, don’t you go down.” he sings, very softly, sitting in front of you, waiting for you to look up. It’s a line from one of your favourite songs. It’s a line he sings to you often, when you’re experiencing your world crashing down.

“Why do you keep finding me,” you groggily ask, sniffing in your tears.

“I’m your muse, aren’t I? I’m supposed to find you.”

“I want to vanish. Jinyoung. I miss them so much.”

He doesn’t say much, just puts his arms around you. You break down even worse than before. All the wind in your lungs empties out with your sobs and you hold onto him for dear life; fearing if you let go, the last glimmer of hope would disappear too.

You keep your head buried in his chest.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do”.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Nothing makes sense to me. I thought if I tried to forget about it — about the accident, I could convince myself it never happened. I thought I could forget them. I thought I could live without them. And most days I’m able to. I got pretty good at it. But then there’s days like today. And I can’t help but hate everyone and every thing,” you ramble.

“Do you need me to schedule a session for you? Tell me whatever you need, Moon”

You shake your head. “What if I fail Jinyoung? At life? What if I’m unsuccessful? And mediocre? What if I die without anyone knowing who I was and what I did? What if one day you wake up and realise you don’t love me anymore? What will I do, Jinyoung. I can’t watch everyone leave me again.”

Another wave of uncontrollable hot tears streams down your cheeks and onto his shirt. You weep incessantly. Your throat is so blocked you feel as if you could choke and die at any moment. And you’re embarrassed — so embarrassed for blabbing out everything on your mind without filtering it. So, not only do you feel like absolute shit, you feel like absolute clingy shit.

You let go of him.

The library tiles below hold your attention for all the excruciating minutes that pass.

“Hey-hey-hey, look at me,” he says, cupping your face. Your cheeks are damper than a riverbed.

You keep retracing the concentric patterns of the floor, unwilling to face him. He nudges your chin, his palms still generating heat on your flesh, forcing you to make eye contact.

You fall fast and deep into the black liquid swirling in his soft eyes. You’re overcome with the same warmth you feel wrapped in a quilt on a cold night. Everything suddenly seems…. manageable again.

He grazes his thumbs over your eye-bags, wiping the residual saline liquid off your face.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

Do you?

You think back to all the times he had come through for you. How he’d witnessed so many of your firsts, when even after two years you felt like a stranger in the city. When you had moved to a new dorm and he’d carried your belongings, for you. When you had moved into your first apartment all by yourself. When you had accidentally burnt your new apartment kitchen and had called him even before thinking about calling the fire department. When your kitten had passed away and he had come over with a tub of ice cream without saying anything.

All the times you’d driven him crazy and he’d never let you feel any less loved. The times he’d waited in the parking lot during your psych visits even though you’d asked him to leave.

He’d been there for everything, no questions asked.

How could you not.

You dip your head low and mumble a barely audible “I trust only you.”

“Then will you trust me when I say you’re going to do something good with your life?”

The tears well up in your eyes again.

He boops your nose with his before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I could wake up and not be in love with you one day Moon, humans are fickle — you taught me that. But, so could you. So, how about we cross that bridge if we reach it?”

You bury your head in his chest when he encloses you in a tight embrace, settling a whirlpool of uncertain emotions in your mind.

“I’m sorry, I unloaded all of that dead parent baggage on you again.”

He gives you an unforgiving, incredulous look which softens as soon as he sees your innocent bloodshot eyes. “You’re supposed to unload your baggage on me. You’re my only Moon.”

You smile. “You know I love that you call me Moon, right?”

“No, you never told me. But I’m happy,” he hums. “I’m here, I love you”.

“I love you too“.

You hold him tighter as he snakes his arms around your waist.

In that moment you wish you could stay like that with him forever, because you wanted nothing — nothing — to ever change.

[healthyworthyofficial]

In Coronavirus, China Weighs Benefits of Buffalo Horn and Other Remedies

As it races to treat patients infected with the new coronavirus, the Chinese government is seeing potential in a cocktail of antiviral drugs. It is also recommending the Peaceful Palace Bovine Pill, a traditional Chinese medicine made with the gallstone of cattle, buffalo horn, jasmine and pearl. There is no known cure for the coronavirus that has sickened more than 28,000 people and killed 563 in China. The country’s National Health Commission says doctors should try treating patients mainly with a combination of Western drugs used to treat HIV and fight viruses, depending on the severity of illness. But the government is also looking at ways to supplement the treatment with remedies that are integral to its national identity — traditional Chinese medicine. It has its supporters. “I think it is the correct approach,” said Cheng Yung-chi, a professor of pharmacology at Yale University School of Medicine. “The evidence is going to come and we have to give it the benefit of the doubt.” There is no clinical proof that the roots of various plants, licorice, and the Peaceful Palace Bovine Pill can help combat the deadly disease. Practitioners say the regimen could help ease symptoms such as swelling in the lungs, with fewer side effects. Critics say the use of such concoctions could raise concerns about patient safety.

The use of these ancient Chinese remedies dovetails with a push by Xi Jinping, China’s top leader, to harness them as a source of national pride. He has said that officials should place as much importance on traditional Chinese medicines as they do on Western medicines. His government has called for the remedies to be promoted in its “Belt and Road” trade route, China’s push to build ports, rail lines and other infrastructure around the world. In turning to traditional medicine, China is relying on past experience. During the severe acute respiratory syndrome, or SARS, outbreak in 2002 and 2003, doctors found that steroids prescribed to reduce inflammation had harmful side effects such as bone destruction. Chinese medicine, they said, would mitigate some of these adverse reactions. In its treatment plan for the coronavirus released on Wednesday, the National Health Commission recommended traditional Chinese medicine remedies that could be used with antiretroviral H.I.V. drugs like Lopinavir and Ritonavir. The national health department suggested trying the Peaceful Palace Bovine Pill for severe symptoms such as wheezing and respiratory distress. Some hospitals are already using a combination of Western and Chinese medicines. In recent weeks, Beijing’s health department reported that two patients who were discharged had been treated with traditional Chinese medicines together with other unspecified drugs. And in Guangzhou, a major city in the south, health officials said 50 patients reported having no more fever and half of them said their coughs went away after using traditional Chinese medicines and other drugs.

Shopkeepers dispensing Chinese medicines at a pharmacy in Hong Kong on Wednesday.Credit...Billy H.C. Kwok for The New York Times Doctors are conducting clinical trials to test the efficacy of traditional Chinese medicine in Wuhan, the epicenter of the coronavirus outbreak, said Dr. Cheng, the expert at Yale, who is also chairman of the Consortium for the Globalization of Chinese Medicine, a group of academics in the field. Jiang Xianfeng, a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner at United Family Health, a top hospital for the affluent in Beijing, said these medicines are safe, effective and easy to get. “Western medicine does not have better answers to this virus,” Mr. Jiang said. “The Chinese people have experienced these sort of plagues many times in our thousands of years of history. If traditional Chinese medicine was not effective, the Chinese people would already be destroyed.” After the SARS outbreak, the World Health Organization studied the use of traditional Chinese medicine during that period and determined that they were safe and showed some potential in relieving symptoms such as fatigue and shortness of breath. Researchers from the United States and Taiwan found that certain herbs could suppress the virus if prescribed at specific concentration levels, while other studies said their findings were inconclusive. That scientific uncertainty is not stopping the Chinese government. Since the second version of its treatment plan, the health commission has added more traditional Chinese medicines to the mix. The authorities in Wuhan say coronavirus patients with light or moderate symptoms should be treated with traditional Chinese medicine, the state-run Beijing News reported. Zhu Mao, a representative of a traditional Chinese medicine manufacturer in Hubei, said he was producing more than 20,000 prescriptions per day at the request of the government. On Jan. 25, the State Administration of Traditional Chinese medicine dispatched 25 teams of Chinese healers to Wuhan.

Chinese medicines for sale in Hong Kong.Credit...Billy H.C. Kwok for The New York Times Traditional Chinese medicine teaches that disease arises from imbalances in the body and that some people have “hot” constitutions, therefore making them vulnerable to fevers and inflammations. When someone gets a fever or a respiratory illness, it is not uncommon to have Chinese people say: “You are on fire.” Practitioners have determined that the coronavirus is a “hot” disease, and therefore, medicines should be prescribed to “clear the heat.” It is unclear how the science works behind these medicines. Compounding the problem: There is no standardization for these herbs and regulation is poor. Traditional Chinese medicine has also been linked to the consumption of exotic wild meats, though it is unclear whether the eating of the meats is really based on the practice. But some people, particularly in the south, believe that the way to achieving a balanced body is through eating certain meats. Wildlife markets such as the Huanan Seafood Market in Wuhan, the site that is believed to be the origin of the coronavirus, proliferated because of the demand for such meats. Laurie Garrett, a member of the World Economic Forum’s global health security advisory board who covered the SARS outbreak in China, said that using traditional Chinese medicine in the new coronavirus outbreak could be risky because the approach is not rigorously backed by research. “There’s no such thing as dosing,” she said. “It’s like being a chef in a kitchen.” The prestigious science journal Nature pointed out that dozens of women who had taken Chinese herbs as part of a weight-loss program ended up with kidney failure in the 1990s. Proponents of traditional Chinese medicine say the herbs were misused. Still, Nature argued in a 2017 editorial: “Hundreds of years of use in clinics that don’t standardize or analyze the clinical data are no match for blinded, controlled studies.”

A Chinese traditional medicine research laboratory in Lianyungang, Jiangsu Province, China, last year.Credit...Aleksandar Plavevski/EPA, via Shutterstock Doctors in neighboring Hong Kong, a semiautonomous region of China, are not convinced that traditional Chinese medicines can help. “I am not trying to devalue their treatment, but this is not something we practice,” said Arisina Ma, the president of the Hong Kong Public Doctors Association. In China, people have searched anxiously for ways to protect themselves. In many Chinese cities, some stood in line for hours to buy “Shuanghuanglian” — a herbal concoction that mixes flowers such as honeysuckle and forsythia, among other ingredients — after two government-backed research institutes published a study that said it was effective in preventing the coronavirus. Chen Xi, an assistant professor of health policy and economics at the Yale School of Public Health, urged the Chinese news media to be more careful in its reporting, saying that the potential for traditional Chinese medicine to inhibit a virus is not equivalent to a form of prevention or treatment. “If incidents like Shuanghuanglian happen again and again, it will lose the public trust, cause more panic, and go against the authorities’ advice to avoid crowd gathering,” Mr. Chen wrote. Qin Xi, a manager of a pharmacy in Beijing, said sales of some of his traditional Chinese medicines, including “Shuanghuanglian,” have been off the charts. “As for whether it works, who knows?” he said.

The Tongrentang traditional Chinese medicine pharmacy in Beijing.Credit...Andrea Verdelli for The New York TimesSource Link https://www.nytimes.com/2020/02/05/world/asia/coronavirus-traditional-chinese-medicine.html Read the full article

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In Coronavirus, China Weighs Benefits of Buffalo Horn and Other Remedies

As it races to treat patients infected with the new coronavirus, the Chinese government is seeing potential in a cocktail of antiviral drugs. It is also recommending the Peaceful Palace Bovine Pill, a traditional Chinese medicine made with the gallstone of cattle, buffalo horn, jasmine and pearl.

There is no known cure for the coronavirus that has sickened 24,324 people and killed 490 in China. The country’s National Health Commission says doctors should try treating patients mainly with a combination of Western drugs used to treat HIV and fight viruses, depending on the severity of illness.

But the government is also looking at ways to supplement the treatment with remedies that are integral to its national identity — traditional Chinese medicine. It has its supporters.

“I think it is the correct approach,” said Cheng Yung-chi, a professor of pharmacology at Yale University School of Medicine. “The evidence is going to come and we have to give it the benefit of the doubt.”

There is no clinical proof that the roots of various plants, licorice, and the Peaceful Palace Bovine Pill can help combat the deadly disease. Practitioners say the regimen could help ease symptoms such as swelling in the lungs, with fewer side effects. Critics say the use of such concoctions could raise concerns about patient safety.

The use of these ancient Chinese remedies dovetails with a push by Xi Jinping, China’s top leader, to harness them as a source of national pride. He has said that officials should place as much importance on traditional Chinese medicines as they do on Western medicines. His government has called for the remedies to be promoted in its “Belt and Road” trade route, China’s push to build ports, rail lines and other infrastructure around the world.

In turning to traditional medicine, China is relying on past experience. During the severe acute respiratory syndrome, or SARS, outbreak in 2002 and 2003, doctors found that steroids prescribed to reduce inflammation had harmful side effects such as bone destruction. Chinese medicine, they said, would mitigate some of these adverse reactions.

In its treatment plan for the coronavirus released on Wednesday, the National Health Commission recommended traditional Chinese medicine remedies that could be used with antiretroviral H.I.V. drugs like Lopinavir and Ritonavir. The national health department suggested trying the Peaceful Palace Bovine Pill for severe symptoms such as wheezing and respiratory distress.

Some hospitals are already using a combination of Western and Chinese medicines. In recent weeks, Beijing’s health department reported that two patients who were discharged had been treated with traditional Chinese medicines together with other unspecified drugs. And in Guangzhou, a major city in the south, health officials said 50 patients reported having no more fever and half of them said their coughs went away after using traditional Chinese medicines and other drugs.

Doctors are conducting clinical trials to test the efficacy of traditional Chinese medicine in Wuhan, the epicenter of the coronavirus outbreak, said Dr. Cheng, the expert at Yale, who is also chairman of the Consortium for the Globalization of Chinese Medicine, a group of academics in the field.

Jiang Xianfeng, a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner at United Family Health, a top hospital for the affluent in Beijing, said these medicines are safe, effective and easy to get.

“Western medicine does not have better answers to this virus,” Mr. Jiang said. “The Chinese people have experienced these sort of plagues many times in our thousands of years of history. If traditional Chinese medicine was not effective, the Chinese people would already be destroyed.”

After the SARS outbreak, the World Health Organization studied the use of traditional Chinese medicine during that period and determined that they were safe and showed some potential in relieving symptoms such as fatigue and shortness of breath. Researchers from the United States and Taiwan found that certain herbs could suppress the virus if prescribed at specific concentration levels, while other studies said their findings were inconclusive.

That scientific uncertainty is not stopping the Chinese government. Since the second version of its treatment plan, the health commission has added more traditional Chinese medicines to the mix. The authorities in Wuhan say coronavirus patients with light or moderate symptoms should be treated with traditional Chinese medicine, the state-run Beijing News reported.

Zhu Mao, a representative of a traditional Chinese medicine manufacturer in Hubei, said he was producing more than 20,000 prescriptions per day at the request of the government. On Jan. 25, the State Administration of Traditional Chinese medicine dispatched 25 teams of Chinese healers to Wuhan.

Traditional Chinese medicine teaches that disease arises from imbalances in the body and that some people have “hot” constitutions, therefore making them vulnerable to fevers and inflammations. When someone gets a fever or a respiratory illness, it is not uncommon to have Chinese people say: “You are on fire.”

Practitioners have determined that the coronavirus is a “hot” disease, and therefore, medicines should be prescribed to “clear the heat.”

It is unclear how the science works behind these medicines. Compounding the problem: There is no standardization for these herbs and regulation is poor.

Traditional Chinese medicine has also been linked to the consumption of exotic wild meats, though it is unclear whether the eating of the meats is really based on the practice. But some people, particularly in the south, believe that the way to achieving a balanced body is through eating certain meats. Wildlife markets such as the Huanan Seafood Market in Wuhan, the site that is believed to be the origin of the coronavirus, proliferated because of the demand for such meats.

Laurie Garrett, a member of the World Economic Forum’s global health security advisory board who covered the SARS outbreak in China, said that using traditional Chinese medicine in the new coronavirus outbreak could be risky because the approach is not rigorously backed by research.

“There’s no such thing as dosing,” she said. “It’s like being a chef in a kitchen.”

The prestigious science journal Nature pointed out that dozens of women who had taken Chinese herbs as part of a weight-loss program ended up with kidney failure in the 1990s. Proponents of traditional Chinese medicine say the herbs were misused. Still, Nature argued in a 2017 editorial: “Hundreds of years of use in clinics that don’t standardize or analyze the clinical data are no match for blinded, controlled studies.”

Doctors in neighboring Hong Kong, a semiautonomous region of China, are not convinced that traditional Chinese medicines can help. “I am not trying to devalue their treatment, but this is not something we practice,” said Arisina Ma, the president of the Hong Kong Public Doctors Association.

In China, people have searched anxiously for ways to protect themselves. In many Chinese cities, some stood in line for hours to buy “Shuanghuanglian” — a herbal concoction that mixes flowers such as honeysuckle and forsythia, among other ingredients — after two government-backed research institutes published a study that said it was effective in preventing the coronavirus.

Chen Xi, an assistant professor of health policy and economics at the Yale School of Public Health, urged the Chinese news media to be more careful in its reporting, saying that the potential for traditional Chinese medicine to inhibit a virus is not equivalent to a form of prevention or treatment.

“If incidents like Shuanghuanglian happen again and again, it will lose the public trust, cause more panic, and go against the authorities’ advice to avoid crowd gathering,” Mr. Chen wrote.

Qin Xi, a manager of a pharmacy in Beijing, said sales of some of his traditional Chinese medicines, including “Shuanghuanglian,” have been off the charts. “As for whether it works, who knows?” he said.

Elsie Chen, Yiwei Wang and Zoe Mou contributed research from Beijing. Tiffany May contributed reporting from Hong Kong.

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