#whca

[parkjihoonswifey]

haii!! (*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ could i req sieun x reader (any gender you want) where sieun introduces reader to the group because reader is from another school and gets jealous? dunno if you write smut or not but you can include it if you want ( ˙▿˙ )b

A/N: This is kinda short and I originally planned to add a bit of spice but I had forgotten and already finished it. Sorry love. I hope you still enjoy!

Title:Outsider

Pairings: Si-eun x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

You stood at the edge of the courtyard, hands in your pockets, shoulders tense beneath your school uniform. Technically, you weren’t a student here, but Si-eun had told you to come anyway.

“It’ll be easier if you meet them,” he’d said over the phone, voice calm and deliberate, like always. “I’ll be there.”

He kept his word.

Now you were watching him from a distance, the way he leaned back casually against the wall, unbothered—until someone called his name and a small group gathered around him. Jun-Tae was the first to arrive, his usual nervous energy buzzing around him, followed by Hyun-Tak and then Baku, whose loud voice echoed with easy confidence.

They laughed at something Baku said, and your jaw clenched.

You and Si-eun went back. Middle school. Same cram school. Same quiet bus rides home, headphones shared between you. He was never good at small talk, but with you, he didn’t need to be. At least, you thought that used to mean something.

Now? He had this… group. A found family. People he fought with, bled with. Inside jokes and bruises and bond forged through violence and trust. You weren’t a part of that. Could never be.

“Hey.” His voice cut through your spiral. You looked up.

He was standing in front of you now, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly. His gaze flicked to your clenched fists before meeting your eyes.

“I told them you were coming.”

You didn’t answer. Just nodded, stiff.

He turned slightly, gesturing for you to follow as he walked back to the group. Every step felt heavier.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend,” Si-eun said, voice even.

The group looked you over—curious, not hostile. Jun-Tae gave a small smile. Gotak nodded once. Baku waved.

Si-eun added, “We go way back.”

You heard the unspoken part: Before all of this.

You swallowed your jealousy, your fear of being replaced.

Baku grinned, his hand coming down hard onto your shoulder, patting it several times. “Anyone Si-eun vouches for is cool with me. You fight?”

The question caught you off guard.

“…No.”

His grin widened even more, "Good. Keep it that way."

Laughter ripped through the group, not mocking—more like approval. Acceptance. Maybe even a challenge.

Si-eun didn’t smile, but he looked at you longer than he looked at anyone else.

“You’ll fit in,” he said, like it was a fact.

And for a moment, you believed him.

A/N: If it's not good sorry I hope people enjoy.

[almostwisegalaxy]

For the One Who Stayed

Yeon Si eun x fem!reader

reader has a shy character in this story

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Rain fell gently on the cobblestones of a narrow alley, blurring the orange glow of the streetlights into a trembling haze. Y/n had stopped there to adjust the strap of her bag. She had just left a late meeting at her school’s science club. Her face, half-hidden under the hood of her coat, was tense. She hated this part of the walk, this passage between damp buildings where the shadows lingered longer than the light.

A sharp noise, a muffled shout, made her freeze.

About ten meters ahead, two figures. One pinned against the wall, the other... tense, threatening. He was holding something in his hand. A pen. Y/n recognized that stance with a mix of fascination and fear: precise, focused. He was about to strike.

— Si-eun, no, back off!

Another boy’s voice shattered the tension like glass breaking. The first, Yeon Si-eun, remained still for a moment. Then, slowly, he lowered his arm. Y/n, hidden in the shadows, held her breath. The other boy, tall, slightly scruffy — Ahn Su-ho — grabbed Si-eun by the shoulder.

— It's over, he whispered. You did your job. Let's go.

They turned away. Si-eun passed by Y/n without even noticing her, but she, she met his gaze for a second. A steel gaze. No hate, no remorse. Just... emptiness.

That night, something hung in the air. A tension Y/n couldn’t forget.

Three weeks later, they met again. An inter-school competition had been organized — a logic math contest. Chance, or something close to it, had placed their schools face to face. Si-eun, silent in a corner, recognized Y/n before she even looked up at him. He remembered the uneven rhythm of her breath in the shadows, the way she had frozen like a creature on alert. She had seen him. And said nothing.

That silence, to him, meant more than any speech.

He started looking for her presence. Not obsessively at first. Just... methodically. He asked Ahn Su-ho to accompany him to certain interschool events, pretending he wanted to observe competitors. And when he saw her, always calm, timid, erasing her presence like a shadow, he watched her intently. Not because he expected anything. But because he wanted to understand.

Why hadn’t she exposed him?

Why didn’t she seem afraid?

Why had her gaze, that night, cut through him instead of bouncing off like everyone else’s?

One day, he followed her. Not out of danger, but out of habit — tracking behavior. He just wanted to observe. Know where she went. What she did when she thought she was alone. And he saw: she fed a stray cat in an abandoned courtyard. She spoke softly to it, telling it about her day. It wasn’t charming. It was strange. Fragile.

And it pulled him in.

He no longer thought clearly. Images of her invaded his thoughts mid-equation. Her face in shadow. Her voice, which he had barely heard but imagined to be soft. He caught himself getting angry whenever some idiot from school joked about private school girls. He isolated himself more than usual. Su-ho noticed.

— You've been somewhere else lately. It’s not like you to... drift.

Si-eun didn’t answer. But his fists sometimes clenched without him realizing why.

Their first real conversation took place in that same courtyard, where the cat lingered. Y/n saw him from the corner of her eye and wanted to leave.

— Stay, he said simply.

She stopped.

— Do you want me to talk about what I saw? she asked, her voice low.

He shook his head.

— I want to know why you didn’t.

She hesitated. Then:

— I saw you stop.

That simple sentence hit him harder than expected. He wasn’t used to someone seeing that. The moment he decided not to be a monster.

— You don’t like being seen, he said.

She lowered her eyes. But nodded.

They met again. By accident, then by choice. Their exchanges were rare, sometimes silent. Y/n didn’t try to make him talk. She expected nothing. She was there. And for him, it was unbearable. He couldn’t get her out of his head. She was a fault in his system.

But it wasn’t weakness. It was a fracture. And from that fracture came a light he didn’t know how to manage.

Ahn Su-ho discovered Y/n’s existence by seeing them together. He smiled at first, but quickly noticed the intensity in Si-eun’s eyes. Not desire. Something more dangerous: attachment.

— You’re gonna lose yourself, man. You can’t be like that with her... You care too much, you’re not built for this.

But Si-eun wasn’t listening. He didn’t know how to love like others did. He had no sweet words, no tender gestures. He observed Y/n like an unsolvable problem, and yet... when she drifted away, he suffocated. He spent hours staring at unsent messages. He monitored rumors about her school. He silently threatened those who pointed fingers. No one knew why this cold boy seemed so tense, so unpredictable, these past weeks.

Only Su-ho understood.

And Y/n, slowly, saw it too. She saw the strange tenderness in Si-eun’s gaze. The clumsy care with which he sometimes held the door. The way he asked if she had eaten, with a voice poorly hiding concern. She hated fighting. But she began to understand that he didn’t fight to dominate.

He fought to survive.

And now, he fought for her.

One night, she found him injured. A streak of blood on his temple. He laughed softly, bitter.

— I didn’t win.

She knelt before him. He looked at her with that mix of distance and vulnerability he reserved for no one else.

— Why do you stay?

— Because I know you’ll get back up. And I want to see what you’ll do next.

For the first time, he closed his eyes, and let his head fall against Y/n’s shoulder.

He was no longer alone.

And he never would be again.

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The requests are open. go for it

(⁠✯⁠ᴗ⁠✯⁠)

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Replying to

@JenniferJJacobs

The shooting happened on the level above the ballroom where the White House Correspondents Association dinner was. I don't think people hearing about this -- or even those of us in the room -- realized how far from the president, VP and other guests this incident was. It was on another floor, up some stairs and several sets of security away. Because the Washington Hilton's hotel and other public spaces were open for other functions, the entire building wasn't secured by the Secret Service, just the specific areas where the WHCA dinner was held, law enforcement officials told

@CBSNews

.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jaw-Dropping Security Revelation Emerges After WHCD Chaos

Questions have been raised as to how a gunman was allowed in the hotel where Donald Trump was attending a dinner.

Ewan Palmer at The Daily Beast:

The Trump administration only provided a relatively low level of security at Saturday’s White House Correspondents’ Association dinner, where a gunman allegedly tried to kill President Donald Trump and members of his Cabinet, according to a report. The suspected gunman, identified as 31-year-old Cole Allen, stormed through a checkpoint before being taken down by armed agents outside the ballroom where Trump and other top federal officials were attending the black-tie event.

[...]

However, no such designation was in place for Saturday’s WHCA dinner. Instead, law enforcement officials told the Post that the Secret Service considered only the ballroom and the immediate perimeter around it to be the areas it would protect on Saturday, not the entire hotel.

The incident—in which a suspect staying at the hotel, reportedly armed with a shotgun, a handgun, and multiple knives, could have stormed into a room where Trump, Vice President JD Vance, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, and other top officials were seated—has sparked serious concerns about the lax security at the event.

A manifesto the gunman allegedly sent to his family just before he tried to carry out the attack ridiculed the “insane” lack of security at the hotel where he checked in the day before the WHCA dinner, which the president was attending. “The security at the event is all outside, focused on protestors and current arrivals, because apparently no one thought about what happens if someone checks in the day before,” he wrote. “Like, this level of incompetence is insane, and I very sincerely hope it’s corrected by the time this country gets actually competent leadership again.” Hugh Dougherty, executive editor of the Daily Beast, blasted the lack of security at the hotel after discovering he was staying in the room next to the alleged gunman.

Jason Pack, a former FBI official, also condemned how the suspect largely evaded security by simply checking into the hotel the day before the WHCA event. “He didn’t beat the security plan the night of the dinner. He beat it the day he made the reservation,” Pack told the Wall Street Journal. “They built that perimeter to stop an army. Turns out all he needed was a room key.” An unnamed D.C. government official told the Post that the annual WHCA dinner is not typically designated a National Special Security Event because the lineup varies from year to year. This year’s event was the first one that Trump attended as president.

The White House Correspondents Dinner (WHCD) event on Saturday night wasn’t given the highest National Special Security Event (NSSE) designation, and it’s because the lineup varies by year and is a one-day event.

Could Saturday night’s shooting be the impetus to add the WHCD to the the NSSE list?

See Also:

The Guardian: White House press dinner shooting raises questions over security at event

[petervintonjr]

Another ceiling-breaking journalist whose quiet dedication to integrity often goes overlooked by history: meet Malvyn "Mal" Johnson.  Born in 1924 Philadelphia, "Mal" worked during WWII as an honest-to-goodness riveter, which helped to cover her undergraduate education at Temple University.  She later secured her Master's degree in Intergroup Relations and Community Dynamics from Springfield (Mass.) College, and married her childhood friend Frank Benjamin Johnson (USAF).  The couple traveled extensively due to Johnson's position, including a post in England.  Frank was tragically killed in an on-base accident at Westover AFB in 1965; following her husband's death Mal took a job with the Philadelphia Inquirer as an editor's assistant, but quickly ascended to an anchor position with WKBS (Channel 48), then an independent network.  During this timeframe she not only covered many pivotal civil rights events, but also chaired the Philadelphia chapter of the NAACP.  She also participated in hearings on employment discrimination, testifying before the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights.

Through these associations she was scouted for a job with the Cox Communications (later Cox Broadcasting Corporation) and formally joined that news organization in 1969, in part at the enthusiastic recommendation of her colleagues Jim Vance and Barbara Walters --she would remain with Cox for the next 27 years, gradually emerging as a nationally syndicated correspondent.  In 1972 she broke another barrier when she became the first Black woman to join the White House Correspondents' Association.  In 1980 she was elevated to Senior Washington Correspondent, and also served on the board of American Women in Radio and Television (AWRT).

Mal is one of the original founders of the National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ), which has been mentioned at length in many of these recent entries.  She also launched what would become the National Broadcast Association for Community Affairs.  In 2000 she stepped away from Cox and founded her own media consulting firm, Medialinx International.  Mal Johnson died in November of 2007, leaving behind an impressive legacy of understated-but-persistent emphasis on rigorous sourcing. 

[romanoffshouse]

She's so gorgeous

[lovelyy-moonlight]

[ceruleanblueshells]

I wish I could get hit by a truck and sleep for however long I want too