"The shattered crystal chandelier now lies as a heavy chain at her feet. Only the rainbow light gleaming through Iris's tears can cast color into her dreamlike world."
i think as an nct account on tumblr i have to say something about mark’s departure even tho i lowkey haven’t posted in a bit…
well if i’m being so fr this was my initial reaction BUT
however winwin’s contract expires in JULy so i’m actually cooked
anyways.
being a nctzen has been great, and although i don’t have this emotional attachment to mark like i do to other members, i want to make it clear that it is okay to feel the way ur feeling right now. nct makes up such an important part of our lives that do not feel guilty about ur reaction right now. don’t feel selfish about wanting him back even if it’s his own decision to leave.
cherish all the memories and moments that we have with mark!! because those will never be replaced.
just know you are NOT alone in how you are feeling. the entire community is under stress right now, and if you ever want someone to talk to my dms are always open <33 even if i never post that much anymore i’m always like on tumblr 💀 so yes !!!!
as for the future of my works. if i decide to write for mark again, that’ll depend on my mood and how much inspo i have for writing. i’ll let you guys know if that changes though, but i currently have no works planned for him atm. (other than mark lee vs the world, which I WILL FINISH ONE DAY TRUST)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: um so i haven't been like active lately....... and by lately my last fic posted was like august 1st LMFAOOOO.... anyways i did actually write A LOT this year (at least the beginning of the year) and so I wanna honor it by doing a wrapped again. i also don't know who's still active as a writer, so if there's anyone who would love to do this as well, feel free to try one yourself. <3 love u guys all and thank u sm for the support. i plan on getting back into writing, i just kinda lost my spark for kpop in the middle of the year. (shoutout to bttf for bringing it back omg)
FIRST FIC OF 2025: paranoia ◎ huang renjun (jan 2nd)
wow we started off with horror oh my god guys are we shocked???? i think like majority of my fics are horror based which is really funny, i just love spooking yall so much. well i guess angst and horror are my go to. really its a good day if i post anything relatively fluffy/happy ending typa story. hey technically this fic had a good ending don't fight me.
LAST FIC OF 2025: yellow ◎ na jaemin/zhong chenle (august 1st)
ima be so fr idk if i regret posting this or not. i gotta thank my dearest @spacejip for pushing me out of my comfort zone to write this like i normally don't write idol x idol unless its smaus but i feel like those arent even real if you know what i mean. regardless its there, its a bittersweet ending and angsty as well so i guess LMFAO.
LONGEST FIC: on my bike ◎ lee jeno (14.7k+ words)
i can't believe i wrote so much, genuinely one of my goals for this year was to write a longer fic and i wrote fics that were longer than my usual average so i'm really happy lol. also this one was for a collab for @sungbeam 's action figures collab and i was so happy i joined <33 THANK YOU LOVES
MOST POPULAR FIC: tetris ◎ park jisung
i'm glad everyone loved this as much as i did <3, genuinely it was so fun to write and i've been itching for an 80s type of fic SOOOO LONG. and pixels is honestly such a good movie everyone should watch it i think.
PERSONAL FAV: stolen dance ◎ park jisung
angst
NO. 1: park jisung (15,800+)
find him in: polaris, tetris, and stolen dance
NO. 2: lee donghyuck (14,900+)
find him in: hey, mr dj, target acquired, my funny valentine, the call
NO. 3: lee jeno (14,700+)
find him in: on my bike
AND IF YOU TALLY THINGS UP, I WROTE A GRAND TOTAL OF 66,600+ WORDS THIS YEAR!! holy crap!!!!!! wow!!!
anyways i can't thank you mooties, followers, and anons so much for supporting me as always. i apologize that i've been kinda off the face of the earth for a bit, but writing will always be one of my passions. THANK YOU SO MUCH <33
You wake up to that sentence echoing directly inside your skull, which is already rude because you went to bed hungry and dreaming about noodles you can’t afford.
You do not open your eyes.
You do not acknowledge the voice.
You pretend, very hard, that this is a stress hallucination.
“Hiiiiii,” the voice continues, undeterred, cheerful in a way that feels legally actionable. “Okay so. In about six months, you’re gonna die of starvation. ”
You sit straight up in bed.
“What,” you say out loud.
“Yay! You can hear me!” he says. “That makes this soooo much easier.”
There is a boy sitting on your windowsill.
He has fluffy hair, a grin that suggests he has never once known peace, and a pair of wings that look like they were added as an afterthought. He is swinging his legs, humming, scrolling on what looks suspiciously like a celestial iPhone.
“I’m Haechan,” he says. “Your guardian angel. Technically.”
“Technically?”
“Long story. Union stuff.” He waves it off. “Anyway! If I don’t protect you, I get—” he gasps dramatically, clutching his chest “fired!”
You stare at him.
He stares back, smiling.
“That is,” he adds solemnly as he crosses his arms, “No Good. “
“I’m going to die,” you say slowly.
“Yes!”
“And you’re… worried about your job.”
“Well,” he says, offended, “I’m also worried about you. Obviously. You’re my assignment. I named you in my planner and everything.”
He holds up a notebook. Your name is there, written in glitter gel pen, with little stars and a doodle of a stick figure crying over an empty bowl.
You rub your face with both hands.
“Okay,” you say. “Explain. Calmly.”
“Of course!” Haechan says. He claps. “So! I looked into causes of starvation, right? And it turns out… your death is totally preventable! ”
“That’s good?”
“Right? Uh oh! There’s more than enough food to sustain you without interfering with anyone else’s survival…”
He leans in, voice dropping dramatically.
“…but you’re not allowed to have it.”
You blink.
“Whaaaat?” he adds, helpfully.
“Why.”
“Apparently,” Haechan says, scrolling again, “your death is premeditated by thousands of things called shareholders.”
There is a long silence.
“…Okay,” you say. “And what is your plan.”
“Oh!” He brightens. “So. I’ve been killing people.”
WHAT.
You choke on air.
“Not like, random people,” he says quickly. “I have a spreadsheet.”
He flicks his wrist. A glowing hologram appears, listing names, stock portfolios, and little skull emojis in the margins.
“See? Very organized. HR hates when you’re sloppy.”
“You can’t just… kill people!” you say.
He tilts his head. “Why not?”
“Because it’s illegal? Immoral? Psychotic?”
“Well,” Haechan says, counting on his fingers, “I’m not human, heaven’s laws are different, and also, they shouldn’t have built a system where you starve while food rots in warehouses.”
You open your mouth.
Close it.
Open it again.
“…You murdered someone because I skipped dinner.”
“Multiple someones,” he corrects gently. “But yes.”
“That’s insane.”
He shrugs. “Capitalism is insane. I’m just efficient.”
You stare at the glowing list.
“…Is that CEO crossed out?”
“Oh yeah,” Haechan says. “He tried to outsource bread.”
You feel dizzy.
“So what happens now?” you ask.
“Well!” He hops off the windowsill, wings fluttering. “Phase Two.”
He snaps his fingers.
Your fridge hums.
You turn. Slowly open it.
It is full.
Not magically glowing ambrosia-full. Just… groceries. Real food. Staple food. The kind you always put back on shelves because rent exists.
You look back at him.
He grins, hands behind his back. “See? No interference with anyone else’s survival. Redistribution is very easy when you remove obstacles.”
“By obstacles,” you say faintly, “you mean—”
“Shareholders,” he says cheerfully.
You sit down hard on the floor.
“I’m going to hell for this,” you whisper.
He laughs. “Oh, no, I might. You’re fine. Eat your pasta.”
“Nope!” he says brightly. “You focus on staying alive. I’ll handle the rest.”
He pauses. Smiles wider.
“And hey. If anyone asks?”
“…Yes?”
“Tell them your guardian angel’s just really bad at conflict resolution.”
He vanishes in a burst of light and glitter.
Your stomach growls.
You stand up.
You start cooking.
—
um thank u @aquaphoenixz for sending me this post bc i can’t sleep cause of my jet lag (i got back from asia) and i need to do something i wrote this um
so as many of you know i have secretly (not so secretly) unprivated secure that card for the entirety of december.
💀🔫
now that december is coming to an end and i finally got a chance to reread it and think upon what i would like to do with the fic, i have finally come to a decision.
i will definitely be rewriting stc, but i don’t even know if it’s going to be called stc anymore.
as i’m currently working on it december 24th 2025 it has basically a new plot, new backstories, and some new characters so i fear we have lost like most of the og plot. (WHICH IS GOOD BECAUSE I’M NOT GONNA RUN INTO ANOTHER SCANDAL I HOPE!!!! THIS IS ALL MY ORIGINAL THOUGHTS AND IDEAS)
for starters, i have decided to place the cast as masters students at stanford instead of undergrad. i’m actually debating wether or not i want y/n to be an international student rn, but i think i am leaning more towards that route.
there will also be more focus on a 2nd couple (haechan and yizhou) as well as a third couple i haven’t decided on who yet. i want the 3rd couple to mostly be the comedic effect so… it’s a con marriage aaaa couple story type (idk one person conned the other person into a marriage people pull this shit all the time).
anyways
here’s a prologue i wrote
hope u can deal with these crumbs sorry for being dead this entire year
—
Graduation season arrives the way summer storms do. Bright at first glance, heavy if you stay under it too long.
For some people, it means hope. New beginnings. Clean slates and shiny resumes. For others, it’s a beautiful ending, the kind you frame in your mind and refuse to touch again. Either way, everyone gets shoved forward into a place ominously titled society, where reality smiles politely, raises its hand, and slaps you so hard your face swells before you can even ask what you did wrong.
Haechan adjusts the collar of his graduation gown for the fifth time in ten minutes. It’s itchy. Everything today is itchy. his skin, his thoughts, the way the future presses too close.
He passes by a couple near the bike racks.
“I’m asking you for the last time,” the woman shouts, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Are you going or not?”
Haechan slows despite himself. He hates that part of him that listens.
“My parents already made the arrangements,” the man snaps back. “If I go back, I’ll have everything. If I stay in Beijing, I won’t get anything at all.”
“Then what about our love for the past four years?” she demands. “What does it count as?”
“These are two separate issues.”
The pause afterward is louder than the argument.
“Let’s split up.”
Haechan looks away before the silence can settle on him too deeply. This is breakup season as well. Turns out the cost of staying together is sometimes higher than leaving. People say you need courage to love, but they never talk about how much you need to leave. When you break up, you only need a few words. The rest are unnecessary weight.
As for him, this is the season of an ending.
He was crazed once. Full of wishful thinking, the kind that convinces you life will wait until you’re ready. He realizes now that he never truly began living the life that is ending today. He was always standing on the edge, waving at something that never quite waved back.
I’m a visible road, he thinks. A visible river. After today, I’ll flow wherever I’m supposed to go.
He reaches the steps where graduates are lining up, voices overlapping, caps already tilted wrong. Someone trips over their gown. Someone else complains loudly about their parents’ camera angles. Life, apparently, does not pause for existential dread.
Haechan stops.
He turns.
Yizhuo stands there, sunlight catching in her hair, expression soft and unreadable in that way that has always undone him. She looks like someone who knows exactly where she’s going. Or maybe she’s just better at pretending.
He never really allowed himself to think about it. About the feeling that lived quietly at the bottom of his heart, never asking to be named. Even she, who became a character in this tale, was never aware. Maybe that’s the joke. The world ends, and the most important things remain unspoken.
Today, they will turn and walk in opposite directions. No dramatic confessions. Just a nod, a smile, and the mutual understanding that some things are not meant to survive graduation.
Many years from now, she will be buried deep in his memory. He suspects she’ll stay there until the end of the world.
“Haechan,” she says, waving. “Don’t trip on the steps.”
He laughs, because of course she would say that. “I make no promises.”
And just like that, the moment loosens its grip.
The announcer calls their names. The crowd cheers too loudly. Reality raises its hand again.
is the app glitching or did you post again/repost? I'm rereading secure the card and suddenly it said you mentioned me in a post (taglist) and i was like wait I'm literally rereading chapter 33 rn wdym 😭😭😭😭😭 (ignore the others alajsksk I can't crop sht in my phone storage rn)
SHHHHH DON’T TELL ANYONE I’M UNPRIVATING IT FOR CHRISTMAS HAPPY EARLY CHRISTMAS YOU HAVE LIKE 22 DAYS TO READ IT
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