#I’ve had my moments…maybe that’s why 💀💀💀
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actualnymph · 7 months ago
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I was in the walk-in at work sipping my drink and my coworker came in, said “oh it’s just you” when she saw me, and then started crying hysterically 😭😭
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lustlovehart · 30 days ago
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Dang over 700, that’s impressive congrats!
If you still have requests open, maybe we can see/hear more about Sebek? I love the idea of him as a swamp monster tsundere dumping flowers on MH! Reader and find him fun~
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Summary: Humans are pests. They’re the reason Malleus has fallen from grace, and why Lilia is no longer in his prime. He hates you, and everything your job stands for. He hates the way you’re not like them. He hates how you’re too kind. He wants to hate you, yet he can’t at all.
Warnings: Tiny bit of Tsundere Sebek, He thinks about 💀 you (he changes his mind dw guys!!), Mentions of his monster crimes, Little tiny hint of obsession, Implied human eating, Sebek sketch at end!
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Your feet are dipped into the water, ripples cascading off where the limbs land, tranquil and cold, the shadows of the trees just further enriching the experience.
The one thing that isn’t relaxing about the water however, may as well be the guardian of the swamp, who’s practically breathing down your neck.
“Well human? Have you had your fill of this sacred marsh? I will not have you linger here longer than necessary! I only allowed you in to show the true essence of beings like us.”
Despite what leaves his mouth, you have a striking feeling that he won’t throw you out.
Because, that’s the fourth time he’s said that, and he’s yet to drag you out.
Through the close proximity, you place your palm on his face, softly pushing him away in your annoyance, yet like a magnet, he attracts himself right back to you, finding his place in the area to be right by your side.
“I’ve drowned many of your kind, don’t push me away so carelessly…!”
“Have you drowned me yet?” He stutters for a moment, racking his brain to find a suitable excuse as to why that is. He stops when you lean back on the grass, looking up at the sky as you lay down.
But to your dismay, he finds one.
“My liege wants you alive, so we must do what he wants.”
“You want the best for him right? What if the best for him is getting rid of me?” You’ve once again stopped any retort on his tongue, your eyes fluttering shut. Your feet continues to dangle in his waters, breath steadying as you let the sound of dew drops falling into the marsh invade your ears.
In your slumber, you don’t notice the way Sebeks scaley face is centimeters away from yours, trembling inhales. You’re right. Getting rid of humans is the best for his liege, for… all monsters really.
His clawed hand reaches up towards your throat, his nails scratching a line in your skin. Webbed fingers tremble, he could, he really could…
He could help everyone.
His hand falls, his forehead falling onto yours. His skin is rough, but he takes care in placing his head softly on yours to not wake you up. His palm follows in suit, laying itself on your throat, cold blood feeling the warmth of your mortal body.
And your heart. He remembers reading about human hearts, how they’re important to they’re bodily functions. Without it, you’d die. It’d be easier than killing you himself. He doesn't know which is better, for himself. He could take pride knowing he rid the world of one more wretched monster hunter, or he could rest in comfort knowing you passed in peace.
Sebek doesn’t notice the way the plants have emerged from the water, taking hold of your legs. There’s a particular branch that caresses your face in a certain manner, one completely inappropriate for a human. His mouth hangs up, immediately ripping the wood from your flesh. He throws the twig away, his head turning when your visibly stir at the motion.
He’s not well versed in human care. He's read about it, but obviously he’s never acted upon it! His hands fumble, if he’s correct, one of the quickest ways to knock a human out is to hit them really hard…! But… He doesn’t wanna do that—
Ah, you’re asleep again.
Sebek carefully lifts himself from your body, water dripping onto the grass from his hair. He slowly backs himself into the water, the only part visible being his head, before entirely disappearing into the murky water.
He realizes something in the comfort of his pond.
He… He wouldn’t need to kill you if you just… never left. Neither would you ever disturb the peace of any other beasts.
Under that water, he ties a knot, petals floating above the marsh at his bouquet. As well as a hand, that drops deep down. A coworker of yours. He’s unsure why you’re the only one he’s not too keen on consuming, yet he can so easily do it to those you know.
It doesn’t matter. They’re the same. Taste the same too.
You awake to a lonely sight, Sebek gone from the scene. Though, your chest feels heavier than usual. You look down, and an array of different plants and greenery fill your vision. It’s wrapped in flimsy wood bark, moss tying the piece together.
There’s a note hastily inscribed.
Human, leave soon.
Even without reading the message you know it’s Sebek. You assume it’s from his human hatred he writes such mean words.
In truth, that’s part of it. You’ll never know the other is him not wanting to see the corpses at the bottom of his home. Or maybe you will. Especially when you notice a shiny pendant gifted inside the flowers. Assuming it to be a sweet gesture from Sebek you smile at it. Such a happiness slowly fades when you feel a certain familiarity with the necklace.
… You feel like you’ve seen this before.
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aventurineswife · 5 days ago
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After seeing Sunday playing piano in his trailer, i started thinking about sunday with a pianist!reader. Maybe they'd play stuff together or maybe even the reader is better than him and he's flustered or smthn... The brain wormsss gahh
A Duet of Souls
Summary: In the quiet of the Astral Express observatory car, you and Sunday share a moment of connection through music. After playing a soft, melodic piece on the piano, Sunday reveals his own secret talent for playing, and the two of you engage in a duet. As you play together, the music creates a peaceful, intimate atmosphere that allows Sunday to relax and open up.
Tags: Sunday x Reader, Duet, Connection, Intimacy, Vulnerability, Reflection, Piano, Bonding, Quiet Moments.
A/N: HE SO PRETTY WAHH!! ☹️😭 (I'm still loyal to aven), tell me why cure just played while I was editing this 💀... (The fact I was thinking about it like: “Imagine Spotify plays CURE lol”)
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The Astral Express was more than just a train; it was a floating sanctuary in the vastness of the universe. You often found yourself lost in the sounds of the stars, the subtle hum of the tracks beneath your feet. It was on one of those nights, after a long journey, that you were drawn to the quiet, gentle hum of a piano.
The observatory car was empty, save for you, seated at the gleaming instrument. Your fingers moved across the keys, creating a soft, melodic tune that resonated in the quiet. You had always been passionate about music, but here, in this strange world of stars and limitless possibilities, the piano seemed to speak to you in a way no words ever could.
You lost yourself in the music, your fingers dancing across the black and white keys, weaving a complex, intricate melody. The notes floated through the air, blending with the whispers of the universe.
It was then that you heard footsteps behind you.
“Your music is... quite mesmerizing,” a smooth voice said.
You turned slightly, seeing him standing just beyond the door — Sunday. His usual composed expression was softened by the subtle warmth in his eyes. He wore his signature tailcoat, the dark blue and white contrasting sharply against the golden details. His halo hovered faintly behind his head, casting a soft, ethereal light across the room.
You smiled, a little taken aback by his sudden appearance. “Thank you. I was just letting the music take me somewhere.”
Sunday stepped closer, his gaze shifting to the piano. “I see... I must admit, I’ve always admired music. I’m a bit of a pianist myself.”
You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really? I didn’t know that. I’d love to hear you play sometime.”
Sunday chuckled softly, his gaze flickering to the piano as though the instrument were an old acquaintance. “Perhaps not now. I’ve mostly played alone, but I do enjoy the art.”
You smiled, motioning toward the bench. “Well, maybe we could play together? I’d be curious to see what you can do.”
His eyes gleamed with intrigue, though there was a slight hesitation in his posture. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with you,” he said, but the playful edge to his tone betrayed his amusement.
You raised an eyebrow, a challenge in your gaze. “Let’s make it interesting, then. How about a duet?”
For a moment, Sunday seemed lost in thought. The idea of performing with someone — sharing a space so intimately — was a foreign concept to him. But then, with a quiet breath, he stepped forward and sat beside you, taking his place at the other end of the piano.
You began to play a simple piece, one you knew well, but with an underlying complexity to it. Sunday watched your hands move with focus, almost studying the motions. His fingers hovered above the keys, unsure.
"Just follow my lead," you said gently.
Sunday nodded, his fingers finally pressing down on the keys. At first, his melody was hesitant, almost tentative, but as he picked up the rhythm, his playing became smoother, more fluid. You adjusted to his pace, blending your pieces together as if the music were weaving a story.
For a while, you both played in sync, the melody ebbing and flowing like a gentle tide. The sound filled the room, and for the first time, Sunday seemed to relax, his usually stoic expression shifting to one of quiet enjoyment. He looked at you, an unspoken appreciation in his eyes.
After a while, the music slowed, coming to a soft, lingering end. Sunday sat back, a small smile gracing his lips. He was uncharacteristically quiet, his gaze still on the piano keys.
“You were right,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “That was... enjoyable. You’re an extraordinary pianist.”
You blushed at the compliment, shrugging slightly. “You weren’t bad yourself. You caught on faster than I thought.”
Sunday’s smile widened, though there was a hint of something deeper in his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said, his voice carrying a touch of playfulness. “But I believe I still have much to learn from you.”
You laughed softly, feeling the tension ease between you two. “I’d be happy to teach you more. Music is meant to be shared, after all.”
He nodded, the glimmer in his eyes softening. For a moment, there was a rare vulnerability in his gaze, one that you could almost touch if you reached out.
Sunday leaned back against the bench, eyes still fixed on the piano. "You know," he mused, his voice quieter now, almost wistful, "there is something... comforting about this. Music has a way of drawing us away from the noise of the world."
You met his gaze, recognizing the deeper meaning behind his words. "It’s true. In a way, music can be its own form of escape. A place where everything else fades away."
Sunday nodded, the faintest of smiles returning to his lips. “Perhaps, in the end, that’s all anyone really seeks — a peaceful refuge from the world.”
There was a moment of silence between you two, filled only by the soft echoes of the piano’s last notes.
"I suppose," you said softly, your voice matching the contemplative tone of his, "but maybe there's room for more than just escape. Maybe there’s room for growth, too."
Sunday looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment, as if pondering your words. Then, with a soft chuckle, he stood, offering you his hand.
"Perhaps you are right," he said, his tone gentle but thoughtful. "I look forward to exploring more with you, both in music and... in other ways."
You took his hand, feeling the warmth in his grip, and stood together in the quiet afterglow of the music, a sense of shared understanding lingering between you both.
In that moment, the universe didn’t seem so vast, nor so cold. With music, with each other, there was warmth. There was connection. And in Sunday’s gaze, there was the faintest glimmer of hope — a hope that, perhaps, even in his dream of peace, there could be room for something more.
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bicth-and-in-that-order · 1 year ago
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Rambling thoughts of various Yuri manga I’ve read
1. Kase-San and Yamada (Morning Glories sequel series) by Hiromi Takashima
notice how Kase’s name is first, which is representative of her being the main one to cause problems in their relationship
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If you asked me what my favorite yuri manga was like 2-3 years ago, I’d say Morning Glories and Kase San everytime. Every avid yuri fan has either read or watched Morning Glories because, at the time in 2010, it was groundbreaking, and I stand by the fact that the original series still holds up to this day. It was cute, sweet, wholesome and only had a few obligatory “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” moments. Most of all it wasn’t a pseudo-incest-straight-male-porn-pandering-garbage-fest—also known as “Citrus”. Was it cliche at times? Yes, but they all are lol. Did they add to the dumb ass “blonde femme and dark hair masc” trope? Also yes. But it was adorable and it was my first ever yuri so it holds a special place in my heart.
And it SEEMED like it was only going to get better in Kase San and Yamada, the sequel. The girls would be heading to college and the story could theoretically focus on more mature topics while they navigate their new relationship. Keyword: theoretically. Unfortunately, instead of exploring interesting relationship dynamics and storylines, the plot of each story arc boils down to: Kase is insecure because a man breathed next to Yamada or Kase is being completely insensitive to Yamada’s feelings…again…—> ✨miscommunication drama ✨—>big over dramatic apology scene—>boring makeup sex or other romantic gesture.
Literally that’s how every single plotline goes. Kase is so goddamn dumb and insensitive to Yamada’s feelings and Yamada’s a complete doormat who can only stay mad for 0.2 seconds before getting pussy whipped like a spineless ass bitch. And for all that Yamada sacrifices for Kase; her hometown, her dreams, her apartment, what does she get in return from Kase? Oh that’s right; bare minimum romantic gestures and a neglectful partner who can’t even call her “girlfriend” in front of others:
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Like I thought we were over this shit. It’s been THREE years of them together, a whole anime production, and god knows how many irl years and we’re going back to “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” WHY???
And then Kase later goes onto bet her entire three year relationship over the ugly bitch in the next panel, so now I’m questioning whether or not Kase even loves Yamada with the amount of bullshit she’s put her through. Which COULD be an interesting plot point, but Kase never gets any consequences for her actions and the creator genuinely thinks this is romantic and full of tension so I’m 10000% positive that this arc, just like all the others, will end with some makeup sex and we’ll be right back to step 1. Sigh.
2. Tamen De Gushi by Tan Jiu
Tamen De Gushi’s problems are interesting but it’s NOT because of the Chinese government💀
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So today’s dark haired masc and blonde femme of the day are Sun Jing and Qiu Tong, respectively. Their personalities aren’t anything to write home about, if you read ANY high school yuri romance, then you know exactly what happens in this story beat for beat. But, BUT, however derivative it is, I find their dynamic very endearing and down to earth. Idk maybe it’s just the translation, but other yuri stories often have this very inauthentic “anime” vibe to it. Which is to say the characters act very cutesy, overly dramatic, and have this stilted, caricature-esque acting of how the creator thinks teenage girls are supposed act.
However, I’m happy to report that Tamen De Gushi is a breath of fresh air in this regard. The characters and interactions they have are grounded and feel organic, which makes them feel like real people, not aliens pretending to be human. This really elevates the humor in turn, oh did I mention that Tamen De Gushi is super funny? Because Tamen De Gushi is super funny, here’s one of my favorite panels and it’s all because of Sun Jing’s goofy ahh expression:
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Like go girl give us nothing
If you’re wondering why I haven’t spoke much about the actual romantic relationship between the girls, that’s because there isn’t one💀 Which, okay, that’s not a fair assessment, they have a ton of romantic tension and they flirt a lot. It’s certainly building to a great romantic relationship, but it can’t quite get there due to legal/political reasons sadly. 😔
Edit: I received new information in regards to what happened to Tamen De Gushi. While I reached my limit for posting pictures, I want to point out that the Chinese government had nothing to do with Tamen De Gushi getting censored, rather it was a dispute between the author and the publishing company. The prior information I received was false and I prob should’ve looked it up more so sorrrry. The fact still remains though that after their big lesbian kiss towards the middle of the story and maybe a few other moments, that’s just kind of it. You’re stuck waiting for something to develop, but nothing really happens. The comic very quickly becomes a collection of slice of life segments and cute pictures that imply a relationship between the girls, but not really ;) ;).  Now things are just kind of left in purgatory for the foreseeable future and, well, that’s Tamen De Gushi y’all.
Compared to Kase San and Yamada, the characters were much better, which is not saying much, but without an actual romantic storyline, there’s just not a lot for me to comment on to be honest. It’s really pretty though, look at this art :
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3. Beauty and the Beast Girl by Neji
my personal favorite and the BEST yuri I ever read
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So next on the list is Beauty and the Beast Girl (I’m going to abbreviate to BatBG from here on) , which I already spoiled my feelings on the matter so this will basically be me gushing about this story for several paragraphs straight, enjoy.
Contrary to what the title suggests, it really has nothing to do with Beauty and the Beast’s story except in name. The main girls are Lily Blind, who is actually fucking blind 💀 and Heath the monster girl. Already I’m happy because instead of blonde femme and dark hair butch, it’s blonde femme and of-course-you-have-purple-hair-and-pronouns masc. Lol, all jokes aside, Lily, unlike her blonde femme counterparts is quite assertive and voices her opinions all the time. In fact, she’s the one who pushes Heath to be more open and communicate with her rather than the other way around. This is, in part, due to the story BatBG is trying to tell. I say BatBG is in name only to Beauty and the Beast because Lily isn’t trying to find the “beauty” within Heath or learning to love a beast or whatever, she’s fine just the way she is and her love for Heath is unconditional. Plus the only thing beastly about Heath is her appearance…which I’ll harp on later, but her behavior is in no way different from a regular human except in very rare, specific moments.
At its heart, BatBG is a story about forgiveness (the creator literally says as much) , but it’s also about the cycle of violence that results from being outcasted and deprived of love. BatBG is set in a world of humans and monsters, where the monsters are outcasted and either have to stay away from human society like Heath or assimilate themselves by hiding away their monster like traits, which is a really queer narrative on top of an already queer story. I don’t want to go into too much spoilers, but sometime before the beginning of the story, Heath in-directly hurts Lily before they ever meet. However, it’s not about Lily needing to forgive Heath, or trying to get over the pain she inflicted upon her, rather its Heath learning to forgive herself and in effect, learning to love herself as much as Lily loves her.
Another big aspect of BatBG is disabilities, Lily Blind is in fact Blind lol and while there are times she struggles with her blindness, she never views her disability as something she needs to be ashamed of and never, ever, blames Heath for it or holds it against her unlike what many, many, many, many other stories end up doing. Her blindness isn’t treated like a super power either, it’s a legitimate disability. She just accepts that it’s a part of her and goes onto say that if not for her blindness, she would’ve never met the love of her life, which I found to be an incredibly profound thing to say.
Now that I’ve gotten this far, I suppose I can add a bit of a disclaimer. So BatBG is waaaaay more explicit about the physical affection between the girls than in any of the previous stories I talked about. Heath and Lily are constantly kissing on, hugging, and almost always flirting with each other, and make no mistake, these girls do be fucking. The sex scenes are never perverted or gross, but genuinely super sweet and romantic, which makes it way hotter imo (huh imagine that🤔). And aside from being hot, it also serves a purpose! Lily’s pretty damn horny underneath all her nice girl antics and while it’s not a major part of her character, it does give a slight edge to her personality and, most importantly, balances out the dynamic between Heath and Lily. It would’ve been very easy to fall into that boring trope where Heath is aggressively horny and Lily is the submissive blind girl, but by making Lily be the one to initiate the sexual encounters, it not only compliments Heath’s more reserved nature, but breaks the stereotype that people with disabilities are pure precious being who couldn’t possibly have sex, which is ableist af btw. Many people think the existence of any sex scenes at all is superfluous, but in BatBG, it truly elevates the story, the characters, and the romance in ways that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying without it.
Now, with as much praise I gave BatBG, there is one criticism I have, but it’s a quibble really, and it can be explained in a single image:
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There is a dissonance between the story and the art, the story says: “Heath is a big, ugly scary monster”
The art says:
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And like yes, it can be argued that Heath is simply regurgitating the things bigoted people have said to her, but at no point in the story is this ever challenged or brought up in any meaningful way. Lily is blind so she doesn’t know what the hell she looks like and the other characters aren’t any help either. It’s not a big deal or anything, it just would’ve elevated the story if Heath was actually kinda ugly/more monstrous and not incredibly beautiful because right now it’s giving skinny girl who calls herself fat all the time, and it’s like, babe, who tf are you fooling? 😭
Other than that, BatBG is incredibly profound despite its premise being so deceptively simple and I love it to pieces so …yeah! READ IT.
4. Superwomen in Love! Honey Trap and Rapid Rabbit by sometime
Well, at least there are no blondes
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So imma just abbreviate to SiL btw
Alright, let’s get started. The premise is that a villainess falls for the super hero girl and then that plotline is dropped in about 16 pages. I’m not even joking, the villainess falls for the hero, loses her job as a villain and then joins the hero all in one chapter. The REAL plot is actually about a council of evil alien-humans who want to destroy humanity because of generic super villain reason #434: the leader of the aliens is sad and misunderstood :( I’m not even going to lie, I had 0 interest in “X” (the generic ass name of the main villain) and her band of useless lesbians. They did literally nothing in the story except be a nuisance and contribute to X’s incel breakdown at the end. Their inclusion actively made SiL worse because the story has this weird tonal problem where in one breath the villains are portrayed as complete jokes and then you turn the page and now they’re shooting children like girl what💀 And these useless lesbians hog sooooo much of SiL that desperately needed to be given to Honey trap and Hayate to develop their relationship.
When the story DOES actually focus on Honey Trap and Hayate, it’s pretty good, even cute at times, there just wasn’t enough time given to them to flesh their relationship out. As it stands, Honey Trap and Hayate don’t have much of a dynamic, or personality for that matter. Honey Trap’s main gimmick is that she’s extremely horny for Hayate and delulu:
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Aside from that, she’s a great value version of Heath, but even a watered down character is better than, like, nothing. All I really know about Hayate is that she’s nice, heroic, likes wearing tacky clothes and ….that’s it. She loves Honey Trap because…………they fought together a few times so why not🤷‍♀️ I’d say at least that’s better than Tamen De Gushi, but actually it’s not because these grown ass women don’t even kiss , all we get is a love confession and their gremlin love child and that’s supposed to be satisfying I guess.
And the worst part is that SiL has the audacity to pretend the romance was something that it clearly wasn’t:
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Girl…yall were “””enemies””” for 10 panels.
Now, it’s stated they have been rivals for a while, but I guess Honey Trap forgot all of that because the moment she sees Hayate’s face, my good sis is pussy whipped for life. And that’s in spite of apparently being the evilest one out of the evil group because Honey Trap has no grudge or baggage toward Hayate. She immediately turns good with no issues and Hayate is only distrustful of Honey Trap for 1 or 2 speech bubbles and then she’s not. Anything else that happened was off screen, which means it didn’t happen. Ironically, the very next entry on this list will do a MUCH better job at an ex-villain love story, but for SiL, there’s just not much going on.
Another reading of this story is to call it a “parody” but…no, it isn’t. SiL isn’t a comedy, yes there are comedic moments that poke fun of the genre, but the rest of the story genuinely wants you to take it seriously. Except it can’t. X and her league of dimwits are boring as piss and they oscillate between Saturday morning cartoon villains and child murderers seemingly on a whim. So I can neither be endeared to them nor take them as a serious threat. Honey Trap and Hayate are there, but I lament on all the potential lost from what could’ve been an amazing relationship.
5. Yamujiburo/Kianamaiart’s Hanamusa webcomic
This one is kind of cheating, but I also don’t care let me talk about hot MILFs💀
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So the final entry on this list is a webcomic series by one of my fave artist: kianamaiart! And it’s right here on tumblr so check it out!
I stumbled upon this webcomic a few weeks ago, fell in love and now I want to talk about it. This yuri pair thankfully has no blonde femme in sight and instead features two popular Pokémon characters: Jessie from Team Rocket and Delia Ketchum, Ash Ketchum’s mom. What I love about this ship and the world Kiana creates around them is that it’s a very unconventional pairing. There’s just not many romances where a single mom falls in love with an ex gang member and the best part is, Delia being a mom is a big part of her character and she doesn’t ignore Ash in favor of her new relationship with Jessie. She has time for both and doesn’t prioritize one over the other, which many ppl fail to do even irl so good on you Delia!
Now, as for the romance it self, Jessie and Delia are a unique pair. Jessie’s overconfident, brash, drama queen personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “dominant” role and Delia’s sweet, motherly personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “submissive” role. Their dynamic in the webcomic actually plays out in the reverse, Jessie is the one who gets easily flustered and Delia’s…intense, to say the least:
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(But Tbf if Delia looked at me like that I’d be at her beck and call too💀)
This subversion of these tropes creates a fun dynamic for the couple and it’s super adorable to see how their energies bounce off each other in each new situation Kiana puts them in. I also love how both Jessie and Delia inspire each other to live out their dreams and they become better versions of themselves by being together.
And one last thing, I don’t have any smart commentary to go along with this, I just really like this drawing of Jessie:
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no thoughts, head empty
Final Thoughts
Soooo yeah, that’s the end of my dissertation on yuri comics. I know I ended up dragging a lot of popular yuri, but it wasn’t my intention to make you guys hate any of things I talked about. These were just my thoughts as an avid yuri fan, so let me know your thoughts as well, especially if you read any of the yuri I talked about. And even though I’m super picky about the type of yuri I read, I’d still love to hear any recommendations. Who knows, it might dethrone the undefeated champ that is Beauty and the Beast Girl.
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kisses4tom · 6 months ago
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Sooo, since we got Uncle Billy do we now get GirlDad!Tom ?? I’ve looked high and low for a Tom X Reader family story😂😭 your writing is amazing <3
ᡣ𐭩 DADDY TOM
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YAYY FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTED THIS!! 😭 I've been dying to write something like this since I have already made an uncle tommy hc! and thank you so much ml 💕
I think we can ALL collectively agree that Tom would be the BEST girl dad, right? 🌚 so the baby will be a little girl!
also I'm gonna make this a teen pregnancy (18), so from the very start up til now!
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when he finds out he would probably freeze for a moment before finally reacting (gotta soak it in yk)
he would be happy but shocked and confused at the same time
scared not to be present enough because of tour and the band
he would always kiss and touch your stomach
he'd cry when hearing the baby's heartbeat to the doctor 🥹🫶🏻
"I want the baby to be healthy, but if I had to guess I think it's a boy" (he 100% wants a girl)
idk I feel like he would call the baby "kleine Prinzessin" (little princess) or "kleiner Soldat" (little soldier) !!
when you go into labor he tries to keep his cool but deep down he's in full panic mode
the first time he met/held her it was like love at first sight for him even if he didn't quite know how to act since he never really had any past experiences with babies
he's very careful and gentle with her
always holding her
he would attack her with tickles to hear her little laugh
kiss attacks also
playing with her all the time
he wouldn't essentially spoil her (that's uncle Billy's job 😉) but he definitely gets her most things because he can't say no to that little face!
likes holding and showing her around: "look who's that in the mirror? it's you!"
definitely hiding her from the media
yet he LOVES talking about her in interviews!
though very very VERY rarely he would bring her out on stage and hold her like mf simba when she was about 1/2
his heart is always full whenever she's around
he would kneel down to talk to her‼️😩
always pushing her stroller or carrying her on his shoulders
don't ask me why but he'd get into play fights with her at the dinner table 😭 (especially when she's still learning to talk so she's speaking gibberish 😭)
he loves to take her baths and put fun toys in the tub
finds her extremely adorable in everything she wears
he'd give her his yellow dog plushie‼️😭 currently sobbing
I feel like he would try his best to let the baby's first word be "papa" 😭
when she's older he would start being more himself (so talk about things freely and make dirty jokes all the time)
he's not a regular dad, he's a cool dad! 😏 (please get the reference 😭)
he'd give her the talk 🫢🐝
he would pick her up in weird ways and make her laugh (like upside down etc lmfao 💀)
would let her do his hair but not his make-up
like I said in my uncle Tommy hc, i feel like he would love to play with the toy kitchen for some reason idk 💀
he's the overprotective girl dad FOR SURE (AND ITS THE HOTTEST AND CUTEST THING IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE)
he'd go down the slide with her 😭
at lunch/dinner he would always sit next to her
looooves when she's at their concerts and would ask Bill to dedicate her a song (especially her favorite)
he'd definitely write her a song too
he would make her try to eat a lemon 😭🍋
it's important to him that she has a good bond with her uncle Bill and the boys too! (uncle Georg and uncle Gustav 🥹)
"Y/n she looks more like me than you, gotta be honest"
he would give her what he didn't have growing up (if you read Bill's book, like I have, you'll know)
he wouldn't let anybody hurt or say anything wrong about her
hype man fr
high-key a very chill and permissive dad
he would make sure she knows her worth and to always be herself, without listening to what others say
always saying that she's the better copy of him
since he had her young, people (maybe even teachers at parent teacher conferences) mistake him for her brother and it's needless to say that he's very flattered while his daughter is just like 😐
they have a great bond
LITTLE FUN FACT‼️ Tom said in his podcast that if he ever has a daughter then his dream is to name her Nala like in the lion king movie 🤭😭 crying rivers rn part 2
your daughter tags along on tours, especially because it's very important for Tom and she loves it (idk if I already said this but oh well lmfaoo)
I have a feeling almost all her friends have a crush on Tom (i know i would 😋)
Tom is such a basic dad istg, he does bbq every sunday
if y'all ever become parents a second time then he would definitely have a happier reaction than the first one, yet he would be scared to take care of two little creatures~
his fans always ask about her during meet and greets and give her little presents, which he appreciates a lot
your daughter is pretty much popular in the entire fanbase you guys have and is considered a "lucky charm" from the band
Tom would give her the longest and most comforting hugs known to mankind
he'd make her a memory book with Bill 😭
and he'd give her some old goodies of his!
like some of his old clothes, hats, glasses etc..
overall he's the best dad and UGHHFHSJENF I cry just thinking about him not having any biological children :(
i hope you enjoyed this !! 💕 (also i apologize for any spelling mistakes but your girl over here is too lazy to re-read 🤪 love y'aaaallll)
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bigassmoonchild · 1 year ago
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this is just pure self induglence
can i request ghost ripping into each member of the team over something stupid they did and when he finally get to us he cant yell and tell us not to do it again really sweetly and leaves the room and soap asks us how we get him to be nice and it leads to them finding out
A. we outrank him
B. hes our hubby and cant be mean to us even if he tried
(i love it when soap just never gets told anything about simons personal life. it’s like another way soap and ghost just go at each other to me 💀)
🫶🫶 (love my anons)
‘you need to start thinking more, sergeant!’ ghost nearly growled into soaps face. ‘if you’d think, maybe we wouldn’t ‘ave had to evacuate like we did, and maybe there wouldn’t have been three dead!’ and all soap could do was look away.
price had disappeared. he well outranked the lieutenant and didn’t need to stay behind for the talking to everyone was getting. you, though, you stayed because you wanted to.
he moved on to gaz, staring down at the younger man. ‘and you’re supposed to be with him,’ he pointed at soap, ‘at all times. did you forget? is that why he went off and fucked up?’ he snarled.
soap opened his mouth, ready to defend gaz before ghost cut him off. ‘don’t you even think about it, sergeant. i want you both on the field tomorrow. 0500,’ and he turned to you.
soap and gaz watched as the lieutenant just looked at you, your eyes glaring through his own. it was like you were talking to each other without speaking, and ghost shook his head. ‘don’t do that again,’ he huffed out and marched away.
gaz visibly relaxed, allowing his shoulders to fall from their stiff position. rubbing at his neck, he looked between you and soap.
‘i’m just gonna go on and get some food. might knock out early so ghost doesn’t fuck me up too bad tomorrow,’ and he walked off.
falling into step beside you, soap and yourself just walked for a bit. soap needed to blow of some steam. ‘how do you do it?’ he turned to you, face fallen and almost hurt. ‘i don’t get it, he never yells at you, he doesn’t do anything to you,’ he shook his head.
the mission hadn’t gone as poorly as ghost had thought. there were some missing pieces of intel, a few soldiers lost in the ranks here or there. maybe an outdated blueprint.
where you’d been watching, ready to help snipe should anything go wrong, things seemed to be going okay. soap hadn’t fucked anything up too bad, he just hadn’t seen someone walking by before they’d seen him.
he was almost shot, barely getting away. gaz had barely gotten away with the needed intel, but had to lose the person you’d been after. that was going to ruin a lot of things in the long run.
‘you didn’t do as poorly as ghost thinks,’ you said to soap, ignoring his initial comment. ‘he just gets all up in his head, believes that anything that goes wrong is nobody’s fault but ours,’ you told him.
you weren’t going to explain how he believed it was his own fault. when soldiers he was leading fell, he took it as though he was the one killing them.
soap shook his head. ‘how do you do it? he barely even tells you when you screw things up,’ you gave a little laugh.
‘oh he tells me, soap,’ you responded. ‘you just don’t ever see it, because he’s private. sure, i may outrank him, but-‘
‘you outrank ghost?’ he stared at you, brows furrowed. you nodded.
‘i just don’t ever wear my stripes or pins,’ you told him. ‘colonel, but i’ve stepped aside to help you guys out. god awful amount of paperwork, though,’ you shrugged and looked away.
soap shook his head. ‘he yells at price sometimes, but he never even gets angry at you. there’s something else,’ you gave soap a little smile.
finally looking back at the scot, you fully grinned at him. ‘it’s cause i’m his wife, and he’d be sleeping with the dogs if he ever yelled at me,’ you told him.
blinking at you, soap took a moment to process it. ‘you’re his what?’ you nodded, pulling the necklace with your wedding band on it. he grabbed it gently, staring at the pretty stone. ‘he even knows what type of metal you wear?’
you nodded. ‘he’s a genuine sweetheart sometimes, but he has his reasons for speaking to you guys the way he does,’
‘i guess,’ soap looked away. ‘ever think about having kids,’ you shoved him away from you, laughing.
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hees-mine · 1 year ago
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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟔 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫! - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬
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𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 ⚥ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫!
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: smut, unprotected sex, crying, angst, love making, alcohol consumption, fluff cause kinktober isn’t my strong suit💀
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“Let me guess, the usual?” The bartender asks with a knowing smirk while he uses the white towel on his hip to clean yet another beer mug.
“You know me so well.” You tilt your head a slight smile just barely reaching your lips.
“Strawberry margarita coming right up.” he clicks his tongue and winks at you before starting your drink. “So, how bad was it?” He asks after a moment of silence.
Turning your attention away from your phone to look at the familiar face of your bartender, you respond. “Excuse me?”
“The breakup, you know.” Within a flash, your drink is sitting in front of you, and you still can’t understand how he always gets it ready so fast. Little did you know he always tried a little harder when it came to your order than the rest of his customers. What can he say? He had a little thing for you.
“How did-“ he quickly cuts you off.
“I know,” he smiles, taking the words right out of your mouth. “Lucky guess,” he shrugs.
“Very lucky, guess.” You eye him, taking a sip of your drink and staring into his eyes over the rim of your glass.
“Want me to be honest?” He wipes down the counter and leans his elbows onto it, meeting your curious gaze as you give him a nod to continue. “Well, I've never seen you before, but just recently, you started to frequent here.” he pauses for a second. “And tell me if I’m wrong, but the puffy eyes the off into space look, and though you’ve been coming here for a whole month, I have yet to see you genuinely smile.”
How the fuck did he know that? or maybe you were just that obvious who knows. “Well, maybe I just lost a family member or a friend.” you throw out other ideas.
“Hmm, possibly.” he taps the counter with his index finger. “But I’ve worked here a long time, and your eyes say heartbroken. Other people who lost family have this almost glazed-over look in their eyes, and no matter how deep you look, there’s still nothing but sorrow.”
So was he a fucking empath or a bartender?
“Okay, or I’m just taking it better than some people.” You don’t know why, but something about someone knowing the exact reason why you frequent the bar late at night was embarrassing. You felt like a typical girl crying over a piece of shit man that never cared about you in the first place.
“You’re good at throwing people off, I give you that,” he smiles. “Thing is, I can see that you want to smile. I can see that beyond those beautiful sparkling eyes of yours, that there’s so much more to you than downing more margaritas than I can count on my hands and feet.” your eyes shift away from his as you sip from your cup to avoid his intimidating gaze. “I can see that you’re broken.” your breath hitches that same annoying prickly feeling in your eyes, making itself known as a single tear rolled down your cheek. “But you can be repaired.” he strokes your cheek, a soft smile on his face while you stare at him helplessly. You just want the pain to go away, anything to distract you from the heartbreak because it’s been eating you from the inside out, and your bartender’s right, you are broken, but in your eyes, you feel broken beyond repair.
“No.” A shaky breath leaves your lips as you lean into his soft yet caring touch.
“One chance. I know it’s so random, but one chance.” he tucks your hair behind your ear, his thumb now lightly tracing your lipline in case you didn’t already know what he meant. “All I’m asking,” he whispers with a heavy heart.
He doesn’t know why, but the first day he laid eyes on you in the bar with mascara running down your cheeks and your quiet, broken sobs while you drowned yourself in alcohol, the only thing he ever wanted was to just see you smile.
And tonight might just be his lucky night.
Opening your eyes to meet his, you sniffle softly and mutter a small. “Okay,” and even though it’s small and barely there, he feels his heart race a million times faster when he sees the tiniest little smile on your face, but it wasn’t forced like the others you gave him in the past to try and make it seem like you were okay no this was real and if you gave him a chance he’d make you smile like that every morning.
𐃯 𐃯 𐃯
It was well past midnight by the time you both left the bar. heeseung drove you home since you had been drinking well, only one margarita but no drinking and driving on his watch.
You had both already entered your home, and you silently led him to your bedroom after taking off your shoes at the door.
He closed your bedroom door behind him, quickly zeroing in on your frame so delicate, fragile, and almost standoffish. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around your midsection, pressing his back against yours softly as he kisses your exposed shoulder, making you shiver cause it’s been a while since you felt a man’s touch.
Trailing his hands upward, he grips the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders and kissing the expanse of your soft neck. “He never called me beautiful,” you whisper as you tilt your head, allowing him to reach even more of your skin.
“He was blind,” he says, slowly pulling down the zipper on the back of your dress. “So blind.” his kisses leave little tingles all over your skin.
Rolling your dress down your waist, he lets it pool around your feet, and his hands immediately find the warmth of your waist. Trailing his hand up, he cups your exposed breast with his left hand, smoothing his thumb over your nipple and kissing the shell of your ear.
The faint sound of moans fills his ears, and he smiles to himself cause he’s the one who’s behind them.
He switched to the other side of your neck, his right hand moving from your waist to your stomach, caressing your smooth skin. “So soft.” he takes his time with you, going slowly cause he knows it’s been a while for you, and he could say the same cause he also had been heartbroken before. That’s why the look in your eyes was so easy for him to detect.
While working his lips on your neck, he pulls his hands away from you to unbutton his dress shirt, letting it hit the floor before back hugging you, letting you feel his warm chest pressed against your naked back. He felt so broad. Just his hold on you made you feel safe as you relaxed further and further into his warm embrace.
Ever so slowly, he drops his palm between your legs, rubbing you through the silky material of your underwear. “Heeseung,” you gasp, feeling the heat of his palm stroking your core.
He moans the moment he feels just how wet you’ve gotten for him, and his kisses on your neck grow needy the longer he hears you moaning for him. “Y/n, I’m right here” he caresses your thigh softly, right hand still rubbing your clit through your panties. “Can I?” He slightly tugs on the crotch part of your panties, and he feels you nod against his shoulder. Without a second passing after your approval, he slips his fingers inside your underwear, running them delicately through your folds. “Y/n,” he whines just below your ear, relishing in the way you feel just on his fingers, and hasn’t even been inside you yet.
“Heeseung, please,” you whimper, legs already giving out from his gentle touch.
The hint is not hard to understand, he knows exactly what you’re asking for, and he turns you around, pressing his lips on yours, finally getting a taste of you and your strawberry daiquiri as he replaces his hands on your lower back while yours play with his belt until it’s undone and his pants drop to his feet.
He gently pulled away from the kiss, picking you up carefully and slowly placing you onto the middle of your bed, seamlessly laying between your legs and dragging the material of your panties down slightly. “This okay?” He checks with you just to make, and you confirm, making him to continue his actions until you’re completely bare in front of him.
You jolted in place the moment you felt his breath hitting your core. His kisses and soft caresses on your thighs made you feel like you were so delicate and precious to him, and you were so so special to him, and you didn’t even know it yet, but when this night ended, you’d definitely know. “Heeseung,” you cry out loud in pleasure when his tongue meets your outer lips. You were in complete shock because you’ve never felt anything like this before.
He stops when he hears just how loud you are, thinking he might have scraped you with his teeth. “I'm sorry, you okay?” He kissed your mound, hands still continuously rubbing soft circles on your legs.
“Yeah, I just never..” you trailed off, and now that you think about it, the idea that your boyfriend never even did what a stranger was doing for you made you feel even more terrible about your relationship with that piece of shit.
Heeseung swears he misheard you cause what type of fucking idiot wouldn’t want to pleasure a sweet, beautiful woman like you? “He missed out.” he starts out using his finger to collect your arousal and slowly pushes it in. “Cause you’re the sweetest thing my tongue ever tasted” Without missing a beat, his mouth hovers over your core, softly licking your hooded clit as he works his finger in deeper and deeper.
Gripping onto the sheets with one hand, your other goes to pet his hair, rubbing your fingers over his scalp, making his eyes flutter shut while he savors every last drop of you.
Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to indulge in a new type of pleasure, one that you enjoy beyond words. You fall so deep into bliss you don’t even notice his second finger going in alongside his other, that is, until he starts curling them up, hitting your spot and making you see literal stars.
The tighter you grip his fingers, he knows the closer you’re getting, and he can’t wait to give you the orgasms that your precious body deserves.
When you pant, his name breathless and needy, he feels the repeated clench, and he sucks on your clit just a bit harder to heighten the pleasure of your high, still carefully working his fingers deep inside you, he moans into your heat when your hold on his hair gets a bit rougher, but he doesn’t mind he loves your raw reaction to the pleasure he gives you.
Humming at your taste, he slowly pulls his fingers out of your soaked core, replacing them with his tongue so he can swallow your juices, giving you the full experience and showing you what a real man does for a woman when he really loves and appreciates her.
When your moans turned to soft whimpers, and your body shook ever so slightly, he pulled away from you but not before placing a soft few kisses on the delicious, delicate area.
Seconds later, your sounds are ones of sadness. Your moans turn into quiet sobs, and he immediately hovers over you, scanning your face with worry. “Did I do something wrong?” He asks, worried as he calmly strokes your cheek, and he looks like he’s seconds away from crying, too.
You cry even harder than before because he was worried over something he didn’t even do. You were so overwhelmed by pleasure, but you could still feel the pain in the deepest part of you because your own boyfriend never treated you half as good as heeseung did.
“Y/n? I can g-go if you want me to,” he starts getting ready to get off the bed, feeling his heart drop at the thought of leaving you like this, but if he made you uncomfortable in any way, he didn’t want to stay.
“No,” you quickly grab his biceps, holding him in place.
“Please tell me what’s wrong.” he strokes your tears away with his thumb, only for new ones to quickly replace them as tears well in his own eyes. He hated seeing you cry. He saw it every night for the past month, and it hurt him just a little bit more every time.
“I promise it’s not you.” you rubbed his biceps softly, calming his nerves a little. “It’s just I’m not used to this,” you say, referring to how he was treating you. “My ex neve-“
“Shh,” he shushes you and shakes his head back and forth softly. He wasn’t gonna let you go another night crying over some fucking asshole that didn’t deserve you or your tears. “Forget about him and focus on me.” he stares into your eyes, hoping you can see the anger towards your ex, the sadness for you, but most importantly, the care that they held for you. “I’ll make you forget, I promise.” he kissed your forehead softly. “Take all your tears away.” he kissed your temple and finally kissed your lips as he whispered. “Let me show you what it’s like to be loved. Let me repair you, and you can repair me.” A single tear falls from his eyes, and you quickly wipe it away to press your lips against his.
“Repair me.” that’s all he needed to hear before leaning up to take his underwear off, bearing everything to you like you did with him, being vulnerable with you just like you were with him.
“Thank you,” he whispers on your lips as his hands roam your sides, your hips, your chest, your legs. He was touching you all over, replacing every last inch of your skin with his handprint and his marks of love, as do you, with him, your dainty fingers strumming his chest, back, and thighs, pulling him closer to your body with want, need, and desire.
His bulge brushes against your core over and over again. As he circles his hips, your face grows hot, and a thin layer of sweat forms between you two, sticking you both together as breathless moans are exchanged between one another.
Your hand shimmed down below his waistline at the same time as his. You both chuckled softly, and his heart felt so full hearing you genuinely laugh.
“Ready?” He exhaled a long breath, touching his forehead with yours. A low hum of approval was all he needed to slowly ease his way inside, guiding his tip past your prepped walls and finally indulging in the blissful feeling that you’ve both been waiting for.
His mouth parts open in a gasp-like moan, as does yours. Both of you are too overwhelmed to speak. All that comes out are quick little breaths and pleasurable gasps.
Your face twists in pleasure, and your hands cling to his waist as he cards his fingers through your hair and cups your cheek. “Y/n,” he moans deeply, and it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.
He makes more than a hundred different facial expressions. Just with the slightest thrust, he can feel every single nerve ending, and it makes him feel so drunk off you.
“Heeseung,” you breathe into his mouth, heart racing in your chest from the fullness you felt as he bottomed out, reaching the deepest part of you, overtaking that empty feeling and replacing it with absolute pleasure.
Hooking your legs around his waist, you grip him for support because you feel like you’re slipping when he gets lost in your silky walls.
With every thrust, he watches your face, and as he speeds up, he can’t help but grow flustered at the sounds your conjoined bodies make, and you’re not much better off the both of you shyly hiding in the crooks of each other’s necks.
“You’re so perfect.” he barely gets the words out before he’s whimpering in your ear.
The words he says make it feel as if time has stopped, and in that moment, it’s just you and him alone in the safeness of your bedroom with nothing but the feeling of hurt, passion, and longing for something more.
Every stroke brings you closer and makes you forget. And every tight squeeze rids his mind of nothing but you and this moment.
You’re both getting close, and his hand goes down to your clit, massaging it in perfect circles while both of you moan continuously at the feeling of each other.
Safe, connectedness and love are what you both felt before tipping over that beautiful edge of pleasure and allowing yourselves to get lost in the sea of blissfulness.
You both hold tightly onto one another, making each other your safe place where you can let everything go.
Heads still clouded and full with contentment, heeseung attaches his lips to yours in a soft, delicate kiss, and when he pulls away from you to look into your soft eyes, he feels all the shattered parts of his broken heart piecing back together, and he blinds you with a beautiful bright beaming smile.
“Thank you,” you whisper as you both stroke each other's face adoringly. “For repairing me.”
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Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback!
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago
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as someone who's an azul kinnie im curious why you placed azul on the slightly dislike list considering you like scheming characters
[My TWST character tier list is here.]
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I think the easiest way to explain it is that I came in with the wrong expectations of him? I thought Azul would be similar to what Jade’s character actually was, so Jade ended up upstaging him in that regard. Essentially, not all scheming characters are equivalent; Azul has other traits which weigh him down for me.
I’ve mentioned this before, but I’ll reiterate it here because I feel it is very relevant for Azul. I… tend to not like “main” guys because of of how much they appear everywhere (including merch and marketing); it makes me feel like I’m being “pushed” to like them specifically rather than being allowed to think for myself about who I like. This is the case for dorm leaders, which includes Azul. Additionally, “main” guys tend to get more of a story focus (also true of the dorm leaders), and that in of itself can be a double edged sword. It means more information + backstory about that character, and while that’s great for lore and fleshing them out, it also means potentially polarizing the fans who were content with their perception of the character prior to the reveal. Once that change happens, it completely shifts how you see the character and then you can’t go back to how you felt before. This was a painful factor in what I call the “stock market crash” of my opinion of Azul Ashengrotto.
I actually quite liked him at first. I took his hand at the start when I first started playing TWST back in 2020 ^^! I even *gasp* simped a little??? (weird AU where Azul was my oshi instead of J word…) He was every bit an intelligent and calculating deal maker as I suspected he would be—well, at least that’s what the few vignettes available at the time and book 2 implied. Back then, only books 1 and 2 were available in full and book 3 was slooowly being updated in chunks. And really, I was liking book 3 a lot (he was still being a silly little scumbag, lol) and took no issue with it… UNTIL THE LAST PART DROPPED 💀 AND WE GOT HIS BACKSTORY…
Now 💦 I’m aware that the OB boys’ backstories usually garner sympathy and enhance the preexisting love we have for those characters but… Azul’s backstory actually had a very strong opposite effect on me. It was the moment I realized, “Hey, maybe I don’t like you as much as I thought I did.” I’d describe the feeling like having a pleasant dream and then you’re suddenly violently awoken by a loud alarm clock, a screeching parrot, and Sebek shouting in your ears at once.
I want to be clear when I say I do not mean to demean or to diminish Azul’s experiences of being bullied. I also do not mean to shame Azul for being (rightfully) upset about his circumstances or for being emotional. When I say that I started disliking Azul because of this backstory, it’s for a very personal reason: I just don’t like stories where a victim of bullying becomes a bully, thus perpetuating the cycle. It’s sad to see someone go down that path, spreading more hate because of the hate they had received before… and I’ll never believe that revenge is a good response for an injustice 😔 Azul’s case is a little different, as he does eventually go on to recognize how far he has strayed from the benevolent ideals of the Sea Witch and is now actively trying to work on himself (which I appreciate and applaud him for). However, it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth that I can’t quite scrub away. I think it’s because I found myself relating to kid!Azul in some ways, so that personal connection amplified the disappointment I felt in the decisions he made. It feels like looking into an alternate reality where I, too, went down a dark path—and that thought is unpleasant, to say the very least. Now I view Azul more like a cautionary tale and keep a safe distance from him.
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themthrfkinprincess · 1 year ago
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Astro observation . . . TWO!!
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Whenever I see someone has a prominent Scorpio or Capricorn placement I always notice and see how sweet and overlay considerate they are. These people I’ve noticed are very helpful and there for people, sometimes they don’t think about themselves that much and contain themselves too much. They also are like nonchalantly funny? It’s not hard for them to make me laugh I’ve noticed.
But yeah strong Capricorn and Scorpio placements remind me of the giving tree idkkk
Like also Capricorn’s and Cancers be goofy as shit im crine😭
WHEW. This is from my experience but when I have seen a fair amount of Virgo or Cancer influences in somebody chart THEY ALWAYS GET ON MY NERVES LIKE GIRL DON'T DO ME LEAVE ME ALONE😭 I swear I have always had little moments with them- they can be quite annoying but guess what. I often spend so much time with them and we are right back on track maybe two seconds later it’s so funny. We switch up so much it funny. And this is funny because well I am a cancer myself and well there are more than three cancers in my family who I adore. You guys are really aggravating though.
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And like also Geminis freaky foreal like YALL LIKE BOOTY FOREAL😭
also its a double whammy if you have eros or venus in gemin lol. I have both 😈👅
so come here . . . .
GIVE ME THAT BOOTY😈
lol😭
AND YOOOO Like geminis and Leo’s can be so embarrassing at times? They’re very suspect to be very lollygagging individuals and I can say this because I have a Leo stellium. Sometimes I look back and be like girl no. It sad. ☹️ like girl you 36 how long you gon be doing this😕.
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They remind me of this liam dancing gif. Its not that they are embarrassing over big things- its just small stuff they can do and say which makes you go wtf???😭 Sometimes i feel they try to impress you over small weird things that no one really gives a fuck about like okay right . . . right . . .
Leo, Cancer, Gemini, and Virgo can be really corny at times- it reminds of that gif of drake doing the dougie. They can be corny in a cute way though😭but leos can get genuinely embarrassing as a mentioned beforehand
Also Geminis talk too much 🦧.
They will run their mouth and run it- i have no problem with it though I like to talk a lot lol. They are ( of course!) good listeners too! I had a friend she was so chill- I could talk to her about anything’s like- if i wanted to speak gibberish she would speak gibberish back to me. She was so random too. They are kind of silly whimsical beings at times I will not lie. Like it would not be wild to catch them froliciing in the fields randomly- its kind of expected of them in my own opinion. In my eyes they really be in their own world at times. 💀
AYE.
And yo!? Tell me why Aries are so cute what the hell!?!?
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LIKE THEY ARE SO CUTE!!
CYUTSIE PATOOTSIES!!!! I imagine them trying to rob me at a gas station I own or something. Like I don’t know imagine them pointing a gun at you and trying to rob you LMFAO. I WILL BURST OUT LAUGHING. They might shoot you tho idk😞 they really be standing on business and they intimidate me a lot once they start talking- and they could be totally be happy/polite while they are talking. It’s just their aura feels forceful? Lively? Out there? I don’t know how to explain it but yeah. Also they are so sweet too!!! These people are cheerleaders- people say that Leo’s are cheerleaders but the biggest cheerleaders I see are more often Aries. My cousin is one and she is very VERY sweet. She listens to you deeply and she really pushes you. Sometimes it’s annoying at times cause like GIRL LEAVE ME ALONE I DON'T FEEL LIKE IT 😭 I love aries though 💖😭 You guys are so cute. AND WHY THEY ALWAYS LOOK LIKE CARTOON CHARACTERS 😭
LIKE WHY HE LOOK LIKE RODDY😭
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And of course we know Pedro looks like chicken little
Also Aries women are GORG!! No seriously! Look at Halle!!! Miss Mamas is GORG!! She is STUNNING! It’s like 💥WAPOW!!!💥 getting struck and hit by her beauty😍💖
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Also David tennant so cute he's sort of like kind of my man😍😍 if you have a crush on him your so real I totally get it fren 😋💗🤭😁
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Like dude come on he's so freaking cute. His eyes are so intense it makes him look like a crackhead sometimes but it doesn't even matter HE'S SO CUTE. And his Scottish accent is so 🫦🫦🫦 I don't know what he be saying sometimes though in his TV shows like huh🗿
Cancer Mars are literally the Scarlet Witch idk dude. . . . like people can go completely BONKERS. These hoes kind of crazy. If you been wronging one for quite a while you better sleep with one eye open when you sleeping👀
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Like these people are kind of punks☹️. They retreat often when something is wrong- too much actually. They really do not want to fight or have any problems foreal. They can be very indirect at times when bothered it can get annoying. But when enough is enough its over💀 its like one fart and your dead💀
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Like that Aries and Cancer energy is not mixing well and shit can get REAL unstable there like don't do them patna!!
Uhm i totally had a million more things to say and I really did not get to re-read this. So there may be many typos- and also im kind of lazy and wish i decorated this post better. But that's besides the point- I hope you liked this post or whatever!!! I was totally honestly rambing to myself, if you found these accurate to you then great!
Peace out!!!💖💗
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hayatheauthor · 17 days ago
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Do you have any advice on writing about setting or environments. I’m writing a scene for my book but I have no idea how to start it. It starts with a man walking through a cityscape ( think like cyber punk and futuristic but also like cassette punk). That’s what I’m kinda aiming for. Used to be very good at this but I guess I’ve just gotten rusty 💀
Hi! So what I usually do is think of why the environment is important to be mentioned in the scene. If your scene is a more 'active' scene then dont start by environmental description, rather you could start with inner dialogue/monologue that ties to it.
It's like 7 in the morning so excuse the poor writing but here's an example:
A had become a laughing stock. [sentences that emphasis how/why]. Even the city seemed to mock him for his stupidity; the screech of the electric train sounding too similar to fanatic cackling for his liking.
(Obviously yknow be more detailed than the above sentences). Then a sentence that connects it to your actual scene, continuing the above example it could be like:
Or maybe that was just B. She had been silently trailing after him ever since their narrow escape from the warehouse, but the slight curve of her lips spoke volumes. They stretched wider as he stumbled over a stray pebble; too lost in thought to notice it. [she says something].
But if your scene is more like he's walking through it with the intent of getting somewhere usually only mention what's either relevant to the plot (foreshadowing wise) or to a character. Or something like 'he's so late but this swarm of robot technicians talking loudly about xyz are walking really slowly in front of him'. Something that 1. makes his emotions/situation clear while 2. still being 'in the moment'.
You could also start with an active scene (like him talking to someone) then use that as an excuse for scene-building. An easy way to do it is use something he sees/hears/smells and connect it to a character or scene.
Like for example A is walking through [lane], gets to his destination, then maybe he notices B has a red flower in her hair just like the ones the street hawker was selling at [lane]. You could also use this for character development without info-dumping, something like 'of course someone like B would buy from the poor man who A spared but a glance to'.
I've rambled quite a bit, but I hope this helped! If you want I'd be happy to review an actual snippet and give feedback (honestly I've been meaning to get back into beta reading since a while).
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sukiipjs · 10 months ago
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✮ BLONDIE : PT 1
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader
↳ words - 2239
↳ summary - you’ve been having a hard time realizing and accepting the fact that you’re gay, and in love with your best friend. you try to ignore the feelings but that only makes everything worse until you can’t hide it anymore.
↳ contains - swearing, angst, use of y/n, internalized homophobia, depression, crying, idk??? [READ PT 2 - PT 3]
↳ song - blondie by current joys
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
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°:. *₊ ° . ☆
nick has been my best friend for years, he’s always been there for me, and me there for him. we met in the first grade when he saw me alone at recess on the swings and he ran up to me, asking if i wanted to play with him and his brothers. one of the many things i love about him, hes always there, always there to help, or just be with. from that day on he’s always been my number one but honestly, i’ve been kind of avoiding him lately.
of course i don’t want to, i really really don’t want to, trust me, but i don’t want to make anything bad between us either. even though pushing him away is probably fucking things up anyway.
the thing is, for months, maybe even years now i think that i might be coming to a realization: i think i’m gay, or not gay but bi? i hate labels, i dont want to be put into a box, its honestly just hard to fit into one too. i mean i’ve had girlfriends before and i’ve liked that, but nick…
okay i might be coming to another realization: i think i’m in love with nick. and to make everything worse, i can’t even talk to anyone about this because the only person i would tell is nick, but if i told him, well i just cant, it could destroy our friendship. he’d hate me, i cant lose him.
but maybe i’m not in love with him, i mean i love nick, i always have but maybe its not love love? maybe its just me appreciating our friendship more. okay who am i kidding it’s definitely becoming more, I LOVE HIM. he’s just perfect, in general, to me, to everyone. i want to spend every moment of my life with him, i want to hug him and never let him go, i want to be with him, i just want to see him again.
i can’t even imagine what he’d say if he knew i liked him. he’d probably be disgusted, i’d ruin our friendship forever. i cant do that, i can’t risk anything like that, i need him even if that means the best thing i can do is just stay away, make up lies of why i cant hang out, slowly stop texting him, i mean maybe it's not the best thing but its either i do this and try and force these feelings down or i tell him and ruin everything. this is better, or at least that’s what i keep telling myself.
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
nick 🫶
| wanna hang out today? haven’t seen you in forever, i’m boredddd
| i know i’m sorry, but i cant today, really really sorry. still not feeling good
| that’s okay, hope you feel better though 💕 if you need anything tell me okay?
| i’d rather hang out with you and get sick then spend one more second with my idiot brothers over here 💀
i stare at the message on my screen, i’m not sick, i’m just trying to be a good friend… by avoiding my best friend… sure, whatever.
i slam down my phone on my mattress, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. muffled screams from my mouth as tears, start to pour from my eyes. every time i message him, saying i cant hang out i immediately regret it. i want to see him, i always do but again, i cant, i fucking cant. it would only make my feelings stronger and i just need to get rid of them as soon as i can so things can just go back to how they were.
fuck, here comes the spiral that ive been replaying in my head forever. do i even really like him? am i really bi, gay, straight, whatever the fuck? i don’t even know, it’s all too confusing and stressful right now. why can’t i just be me? and have my best friend with me again? actually hang out with him, see him?
all i can really do right now is continue screaming and crying into my pillow about how much of a shitty friend i’m being, great. I constantly stalk his instagram, trying to see if i do really like him and try to see what he’s up to without me, i miss him so much.
…i wish he was a girl then i would be straight and all this shit wouldn’t hurt so much. i’m not trying to say that being gay is bad, all i’m saying is that it would be easier to figure all this out if i was straight and he was a girl. i know that’s so messed up to say but i don’t know how else to put it.
if he was a girl, i’d know that i’m in love with him, i wouldn’t be so afraid to accept myself because there wouldn’t be anything to accept. i’d just be me and he’d she’d be him her, i’d get to be his her boyfriend and we’d be a happy couple. i’d be happy and i wouldn’t have to push the person i love most in this stupid world away…
i smash my face into my silky white pillowcase over and over, shaking my head as i force the sides of the pillow into my face more. i want to suffocate.
i scream into my pillow more and more. ‘i love you nick, i love you nick, i love you. i DONT love you nick, i DONT love you nick, i DONT love you… but i do, i really really do, but i cant… i really really fucking cant.’
°:. *₊ ° . ☆
i stay rotting in my bed, spiraling about random shit, taking random quizzes of ‘am i gay?’ or ‘am i in love with my bestfriend?’ or ‘is it a crush?’ like i know.
soft blankets cover me, my silky pillows supporting my back as i rewatch rupaul's drag race on my computer until i finish it again, oreos and empty dr pepper cans surround me. and of course, nick always in my mind, everything reminding me of him, those stupid quizzes, his favorite show, his favorite drink. i wish he could be here, like how we used to hang out before i started ruining everything but i could be ruining it more, at least im keeping my mouth shut.
every once and a while, a message from nick pops up. him sending me a tiktok or telling me about how spacecamp is going or just something random, asking how im doing, if im still sick. most times i try to ignore him, turning off the notifications but i answer sometimes, only one or two words, maybe just an emoji, just trying to say something. i don’t want him to think i hate him or anything, i still of course love him.
the only time i ever get up from my bed is to go the the bathroom or get more food, ive been wearing the same two sweatpants alternating them and random shirts that i throw on the floor after i wear them for enough. my hair shaggy and a scratchy stubble on my face. i look and feel gross. i didnt think that forcing my best friend away and trying to figure out my sexuality could make me this depressed, who knew.
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
weeks pass of me ignoring (or at least trying to ignore) nick and weeks of screaming into my sheets and sleeping all day become more and more. i finally decide to leave my apartment and stock up on some random things that will help me rot in my room even more: coffee, chips, oreos, whatever else i might want.
as i scan the aisle for dr pepper, standing in my gray hoodie with the hood covering me and one of the two sweatpants i’ve been wearing on, i hear a voice at the end of the row calling to me, “y/n?” my head turns to see who knows me that’s here, about to see how disgusting i look and just my luck, it’s nick.
“nick” a bright smile floods my face, i haven’t seen him for what seems like forever, i look at his blonde hair with grown out brunette roots, plus that signature nose ring and star earrings, of course he looks great.
he runs up to me, giving me a warm hug as he smiles too, “oh my god i haven’t seen you in decadessss” he exaggerates, laughing at me, “you feeling better now?” i tilt my head a little, confused but then i remember my lie. “oh yeah, i am. even though i dont look it” i try to scoff a laugh, looking down at myself, excusing how ‘i dont care’ i look right now.
“you look fine.” he laughs back again, “you know… me, chris and matt were gonna go out for dinner soon, wanna come?” i can tell he really wants me to be there and i really want to but i try to push it away, still.
“uhhh, i think had something later, sorry” my small smile slowly fading as his does too, i don’t think i’ve seen his smile leave that fast. “really? we haven’t talked in weeks, i miss you” he jokes a little, but really we do miss each other.
“i know, i’m sorry, but i promise we’ll hang out soon yeah?” i try to fake a small smile, trying to make this a little better but nick still looks sad, “yeah okay, see you later then?” he looks like he hates me, he looks just annoyed, hurt. i feel terrible.
“yeah, later” i’m about to walk closer to give him another hug but he leaves, to i assume go find his brothers, before i can. i’m terrible.
i finish up grabbing my things before leaving and driving off, replaying our interaction in my head. i could’ve just went? it was one dinner, that’s all. not a big deal. but it’s too late, it would just be weird if my schedule suddenly cleared up now.
°:. *₊ ° . ☆
i make my way back to my apartment, putting my bags down on the counter before going straight to my room again, flopping down on top of the pile of blankets and stuffed animals that cover my bed.
i dig in my pocket for my phone, taking it out as i grab a blanket to pull it over my face, closing off the sun that shines through my window.
i go straight to me and nicks messages, thinking of texting him. ‘i’m sorry’ too short, plain. ‘sorry, i was wrong i can go’ feels like i’m pitying him, plus just dumb. ‘i love you’ yeah definitely not. ‘come over? sorry’ again, stupid and he can NOT see the mess i have over here.
i decide on nothing and put my phone to the side of me, burying my head into my pillows again, tears flooding my eyes again again again. it’s too much. this is all stupid and i need to get over it all. this is terrible.
i go back to my cycle of curling up in warm blankets, eating my now new oreos and dr pepper and rewatching shows i’ve seen a million times before. and obviously stalking nicks instagram, he posted a story of him and his brothers at dinner. he’s still wearing those earrings and that same beige jacket he was wearing before, and he still looks great.
i swipe up, about to message him. ‘you look great, sorry i couldn’t come’ i quickly delete it and just like the story. i need to stop trying to message him when i’m trying to ignore him.
₊ ° .☆ °:. *₊
after falling asleep shortly after i finished looking at nicks story i wake up to like five texts from who? nick, of course.
nick 🫶
| are you ignoring me?
| like did i do something or what?
| are you okay?
| can we just talk or hang out please?
| y/n?
| okay sorry actually, never mind
my heart drops, i feel so TERRIBLE. nick did nothing and i never want him to think that he did something wrong. he’s perfect.
i pick up my phone to respond but honesty i don’t know if i should… i want him to know that he did nothing but he’s right about me ignoring him… fuck this. i just ignore him, still.
i shut off my phone fast and roll to my other side, curling up my legs and staring at the small textured bumps on the off-white wall that i face. i take in every detail, trying to distract myself with something else. i spot all the tiny discolorations or stains on the wall, the way it all starts to blur when tears, again, rain out my eyes.
they drip on the curves of my cheeks and lips, my hands are tucked under my legs as he tears drop onto my sheets, i don’t bother wiping them off. they make a small circle ish shape when it hits on my bed with a darker gray on my gray sheets.
my spiraling hits again when the ridges on my wall go dark as my eyes close. why can’t my best friend just be my best friend? why can’t i just be a normal person? why can’t i just forget it all? why can’t this all just go away? why? why? why? why?
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @will-yummy
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sungbeam · 2 years ago
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nonidol!lee hyunjae x fem!reader
your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him!
▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, fluff, angst, comedy/humor, swearing, college au, pining, hyunyn r kinda franchise movie buffs, shirtless hyunjae......, slow burn-ish lol, if ur a theater kid i am so sorry, stress and academic pressures, mentions of a bitter ex-friendship and ex-relationship, sabotaging and low-key terrorizing by an ex-friend, kissing, insecurity, lots of jargon i looked up and hope i'm using correctly, massive leaps in time and multiple chapters that span one day 💀, denial is a river in egypt so ig hyunjae's in egypt
▷ total wc. 30.9k (i actually overshot this one r we surprised 0_0)
this is the fourth installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to other fics, and all prev and future yns will be referred to as __!yn !! i do recommend reading at least one of the prior storylines ;')
a/n: mmmmmmmmmm idk what to say but have fun bye!!! AND REBLOG FOR GOD'S SAKE REBLOG PLEASE—
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EPISODE ONE (PILOT): ONE ON ONE
“HAVE you always wanted to be a playwright?”
The question caught you off guard as you glanced up from your tablet screen, the white blue-light contrasting sharply against the warm amber radiating from the small, battery-operated lamp seated on the plastic folding table. There were a couple of technical issues going on behind the curtain at the moment, so the transition to the next person auditioning would be delayed by a couple minutes. In retrospect, it was nothing, but when you were already a couple weeks late behind schedule, a couple of minutes was everything.
A young and bright second-year student sat to your right in the middle rows of the university performing arts center nosebleeds. She was peppy and eager and passionate—all the things that you sometimes saw yourself as when you were her age. Her name was Bae Sumin, and she wasn’t here to audition, nor was she here for you. She was actually here to interview a few of the dancers for the winter showcase in representation of the university’s premier newspaper called The Daily. She had asked if she could sit in for a few of the auditions and observe, maybe ask a few questions; who were you to refuse an eagle-eyed undergrad who reminded you so much of yourself?
“Oh, well,” you began, eyes flitting to the velvet curtain where you saw a man in a dark baseball cap—Lee Jihoon—give you a swift thumbs up, “kind of. Playwriting was my first love, but it eventually turned into screenwriting over time.”
“So why choose playwriting for your capstone instead of screenwriting?” Sumin followed up, as you and her attention turned to the spotlit stage where your next auditioner walked out onto.
You knew the answer to that; you really did. But the audition was beginning, and though he was introducing himself to you, you couldn’t quite get your head in the game. Why did you choose to write a play over directing a film? You quickly murmured an answer to the second-year beside you as the student onstage had gotten so nervous he dropped his copy of the script on the floor. “I guess, when it counts, you always go back to your first love.”
— ✶
It was times like these where you really valued a good, strong cup of coffee.
“—I’m gonna stop you right there.” The poor kid—you really did feel bad for cutting people off sometimes, but you swore it was wholly necessary—froze like a deer in headlights. You stood up from your chair and began making your way down the aisle and into one of the rows that were closer to the stage. “Michael, is it?”
Michael, the student on stage who had been auditioning to play the role of a Napa Valley wine salesman, bobbed his head in affirmation.
You dipped your head. “Okay, Michael. Let me ask you: what is your motivation for this scene as a wine salesman? Because, if I’m being honest, dude, I’ve counted like… four different ways you’re playing this character.” In this singular scene alone. Your head was spinning from stress, and his mannerisms felt right for the role, but his acting itself just wasn’t hitting the mark. (If that even made sense, but your initial thought when he first walked onto stage gave you the aura of a business major.)
“Um,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head, “my motivation is to… sell wine?”
“Sell wine, and? What else?” Please pick up on the lines. Please tell me you read the other lines of this character.
He rifled through his packet of stapled script papers, clammy fingers flipping through and his eyes racing over lines. He probably printed out multiple sheets to audition for multiple parts in case this one fell through. “Oh! I, uhm, I’m supposed to eventually lock Alex and Kai in the wine cellar.”
“Because…” You prompted.
“Because… my boss is the… second cousin of the bride’s uncle?” He quickly added on, and you could see the cogs in his brain turning like rent was due (your rent—your rent was due—oh shit), “Wait! Wait! And Uncle Lee overheard the ex-boyfriend plotting to get Alex alone, so he asked me to hide Alex, and I do it because I want to get promoted.”
You punched the admittedly sky-high ceiling of the performance art hall. “Bingo. Now give me desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman, Michael.”
Michael did indeed give you a desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman. He did so, very well, in fact, that you declared that you were done for the day. Because you definitely were. If you saw any more people and heard the same lines of script over and over for any longer, you were going to commit murder. At least, not without filling your stomach first. When Michael was done and scurrying off stage, you caught one of the sophomores working with Jihoon—you thought her name was SW!Yn—and asked if she could have the house lights turned on.
You trudged back up to your original seat up in the nosebleeds and found that Sumin had disappeared off somewhere. However, she left a baby pink-colored sticky note on the table for you to read: I realized that I have an actual job to do, but watching you work was so cool. Thank you for letting me sit in! x, Sumin. She’d scrawled her phone number below the message line in case you were up for a proper session to let her pick your brain, and you felt yourself smile as you tucked the note into the back of your phone case for later.
“Yn-ie!”
You settled into your seat, an eyebrow cocked in blatant amusement as you watched your best friend, Lee Hyunjae, leap down from the stage and bound up the aisle to where you were. “Where’ve you been for the past two hours?” You mused as you began packing your things away into your backpack at your feet. Hyunjae had come in with you early this morning at seven, and for the three out of five hours you’d been conducting callbacks and auditions, he had been seated beside you to keep you (relatively) sane and to give you his opinion.
He, of course, had not been allowed to sit in for Kim Younghoon’s audition, because that was favoritism. Hyunjae tried to convince you by saying he would be even more judgmental of Younghoon, but you had effectively booted him out of the auditorium. After that, he disappeared to god knew where, and Sumin replaced him.
“I’ve been around,” he said to you casually. Instead of coming into the aisle were you were, he went up one more row. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch. Hungry?”
You patted your stomach, leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs over your head like a cat. “Yes, sir. I can go for a buffet and a half right about now.”
“Oh, a buffet and a half?” He chuckled. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your upper half and rested his chin on top of your head. Your heart skipped about a dozen beats then; his embrace was always very warm. “So that must mean you're resuming this train in the afternoon, too.”
“Glad to know you pay attention.”
“Hey!” He squawked indignantly, no doubt jutting his bottom lip out in a Younghoon-esque pout. “I do pay attention to you.”
You made a face that he couldn’t see, but he could feel you pat his hands. “Sure, buddy, sure.”
Cleaning up didn’t take too long, as you reassured (more so reminded) Jihoon that you would be back at around 3 o’clock sharp. If he or Chan weren’t in to turn on lights and the like, you were certain you could hold your own. You and Hyunjae agreed on heading over to one of the closer restaurants on the Ave, only a few minutes’ walk from the performing arts hall. It was a cozy sort of cafe that served really good wonton noodle soup for both winter and summer days (Hyunjae always teased you for drinking hot soup on hot days, but it was something you had done since you were a kid).
Once the two of you had settled in a booth tucked away into the corner of the establishment, you were both swift to relay your orders to the waiter. Saying you were starving would be an understatement.
“You know, there are just some people who I can’t understand how they’ve made it so far in the program,” Hyunjae said to you as you squeezed a wedge of lemon juice into his glass of water. “Thank you,” he beamed boyishly, accepting the lemony beverage to sip. “—I mean, I’m sure they got in somehow, and like—I have no right to judge, but at this point, shouldn’t you understand the basic principles of design?”
You gave a meager bob of your head, taking your own glass to repeat your actions with a new lemon wedge. “They should if they’re all graduating in one quarter, too.”
“They’re all doing capstones,” he confirmed.
You offered him an amused smile. “Well at least you know that you’re doing okay, then.”
Hyunjae sighed, leaning back against his booth seat. His gaze flickered out the window for a second, then his lip curled upward as he returned his attention to you. “I guess so. Oh!”
He straightened and leaned forward again, bracing his forearms onto the table so he inclined himself toward you. “I was gonna tell you all about my backstage adventure!”
You chuckled. “Do tell, Jae.”
“Well, we begin our adventure with collecting dance kids like Pokemon—”
You sputtered around your straw, nearly snorting water from your nose and you swiftly slapped a hand over your mouth. Hyunjae’s eyes lit up as he laughed, but he was reaching over to hand you a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “I did not expect you to say that,” you managed to croak through your miserable laughter.
Hyunjae wagged his eyebrows at you. “What can I say? I am hilarious.”
“One out of a dozen times.”
“One out of one.”
“One out of ten.”
Hyunjae simply smiled. He could do this all day. “One out of one.”
But so could you. “One out of ten.”
He leaned closer. “One out of one.”
Not one to be beaten out by your best friend, you inched closer with a slightly narrowed gaze. “One. Out. Of. Ten—”
“Order of wonton noodle soup and an order of dan dan mian?” Both you and Hyunjae shot apart, heat crawling up to your cheeks, and you wondered if it was obvious to the bored-looking waiter setting your food down on the table. You passed a glance across the table at Hyunjae, but as always, he seemed practically unfazed. In fact, he was grinning like a madman.
You sighed, rolling your eyes. When the waiter disappeared and left you and Hyunjae to your own, strange devices, Hyunjae took a pair of plastic chopsticks from the collection on the table, wiping the pair down, then handing them to you. You thanked him as you accepted the utensils from him and wiped down a soup spoon for yourself.
As the two of you began digging into your separate dishes—with Hyunjae dipping a spoon into your soup and with you reaching over to pluck a couple pieces of minced pork from his bowl—it seemed that a silent truce about the matter prior had come to settle.
Hyunjae suddenly cleared his throat, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t using his chopsticks. “So as I was saying earlier—I found Juyeonie somewhere—I can’t remember. And then we found Sunwoo. The poor kid was just wandering around like a lost sheep; he was looking for Changmin, so we all went searching for him. And then Younghoon caught up with us—how’d his callback go, by the way?”
You swallowed the bite you had in your mouth before answering. “He did great, as usual. But you’re not allowed to know more than that.”
He sent you a playfully unsatisfied deadpan. “Hmph.”
“Hmph, back at ya,” you teased. You arranged a perfect spoonful of noodles, soup and wonton, carefully blowing on the surface. “So where did you guys end up finding Changmin?”
"In a closet."
You lurched, furiously holding back your snort as you closed your mouth around your bite. Bad. Idea.
Hyunjae didn't bother hiding his giggles as he watched you struggle to chew and swallow your bite of food. "You okay over there?"
With a glare that needed no extended interpretation, you wrestled the food down your throat. "I hate you."
"Hehe, whatever you say," he sang. "He was technically in a dressing room, but same thing. He was miserable, dude. Looked so perturbed."
You scoffed. "Perturbed? What is this? The Fast and the Furious?"
"Hey! Leave my man Vin Diesel alone!"
You cocked a brow at him as you slurped noodles into your mouth. "No." And then you added, "There is literally no reason for there to be so many Fast and Furious movies."
He huffed at you. "You know, that's exactly what people say about all franchises. What would you say if somebody came after Star Wars or Marvel like that, hm?"
"I'd murder them, and you'd help me hide the bodies."
A beat passed. "Touché."
Your lip curled in mild satisfaction. "Okay, so why's the squirrel feeling so down in the dumps? Something about that ex of his?"
Hyunjae motioned vaguely with his free hand. "Ex dance partner. Apparently, it was this whole thing that happened in high school, but I didn't get all the details."
"Ah," you replied. "I'm sure a good cup of coffee can get him to perk up just fine."
"Agreed." Hyunjae's eyes went skyward as a thought occurred to him. You couldn't help but admire the definition in his jawline as he did so. "There was something weird that happened."
"Oh?"
He quirked his mouth to the side and a crease formed in his forehead. "Yeah… we were talking about your play, right? And I was agreeing with Changmin that the whole thing was my favorite because you wrote it—"
Oh. You nodded your head indulgently, expression set in a way that seemed like you were incredibly invested in what he was saying. In reality though, your insides were flaring and you could feel the sweat dripping down the back of your neck.
"—and they just looked at each other? Like that thing you and I do when we know exactly what the other person is thinking, but I didn't get it." Hyunjae wrinkled his nose, reaching for his water. "Wondered what that was about."
You averted your eyes to your bowl of soup, trying to get ahold of yourself. "Yeah," you laughed, and you hoped it didn't sound as nervous as you thought it did, "I have no idea what that's about."
He simply shrugged then. "It's probably just something stupid," Hyunjae mused, then chuckled. "Just my friends for you. Silly geese."
You cleared your throat. "Yeah…silly geese, for sure."
And you were going to have a talk with those silly geese.
EPISODE TWO: LET'S ROCK 'N' ROLL
THIS was not your first rodeo, and it certainly would not be your last. It was approximately two weeks later, the Saturday at the caboose of Spring Break, that you found yourself standing in one of the first few rows of nosebleeds with your hair pulled up and out of your face and a packet copy of your script in hand. The entire acting cast sat in a sort of half circle mass on the stage with their own copies of the script. Today was Script Read-Through Day—as well as an intermittent fitting day.
Thanks to the efforts of your fellow workaholic, drama nerd classmate Kim Hongjoong, a handful of costumes for the entire play had been completed over the length of Spring Break. You'd asked your cast to find time over finals week and Spring Break to get a quick fitting done by Hongjoong and his team, and luckily, all of that had gone smoothly.
Now, it was your turn to lean in.
"Let's get down to business, everyone!" You said with a clap of your hands to capture everyone's attention. Your eyes roamed over the faces of the people who were selected and your heart thundered in excitement. This—this was just one part of the rush you lived for. You didn't bother to suppress your grin. "Thanks for being on time and making it back here; I know I cut your break short, but we're on a very tight schedule. Can we start with going around and introducing ourselves with name, year, major, and role?"
The circlet of introductions began at Cha Eunwoo, the young man in your year who you selected for the role of Kai, the main male lead. Younghoon was cast as Ryan, Kai's best friend, and the guy who was marrying Choi Miyeon's character Lily. Minatozaki Sana was playing Alex, opposite Eunwoo. You had been surprised Younghoon hadn't auditioned specifically for the role of Kai, but you were content that he'd gone for Ryan instead—a simple chemistry reading with the four main leads the week prior had confirmed to you that you'd made all the right choices.
The main cast also included Jung Eunbi, Jung Yerin, Choi San, and Dong Sicheng, another close friend of yours. All in all, you had been incredibly lucky with the ending line up of cast members, and the supporting cast, too.
The read-through carried along smoothly—well, mostly.
“—why, of course, dear Prim! It mainly trickles down to a few… specific details—Yn,” said San as he abruptly broke out of character. Everyone’s heads shot up from their scripts, including yours, as you watched San’s hand air-gesture to an invisible beard on his face. “I’m getting one of those weird old man beards, right?”
There was a murmur of chuckles throughout the group, and you gave him a small smile. “Of course, you are. I asked Hongjoong for the perverted-looking ones, specifically.”
He grinned, nodding. “Nice!” He thought about it, “Wait…”
Younghoon coughed up a laugh. “Shall we continue?”
You inclined your head in affirmation. “Thanks, Hoon. Yes, let’s get back to it. We were at Uncle Lee’s line about ‘specific details’.”
San had been selected to play the character of Uncle Lee, the role quite literally taken from the original Shakespeare play yours was based upon: Much Ado About Nothing. Your thesis play, the biggest project you would ever conduct in your undergraduate years, was called Jasmine. The storyline centered around ex-somethings, Alex and Kai, who were Maid of Honor and Best Man to their best friends Lily and Ryan, respectively. Because of Alex and Kai’s troublesome past, they acted like they hated each other, and Lily schemed to make them finally see eye to eye—as a wedding gift to herself, of course. She also convinced a party of characters to get in on the plan with her. It had all been very fun for you to write, and you imagined that the actors up on this stage now would make it all the better when they brought it to life.
With the read-through completed, you began splitting up groups to begin chemistry exploration readings. While you ushered Sicheng, Eunwoo, Sana, and a couple of the key supporting cast members onto stage, everyone else hopped down and scattered into the nosebleeds so they could get to know their fellow cast members more intimately.
You stood in the second row of the audience in the smack middle, one arm crossed over your stomach and the other propping your script up for yourself. Younghoon settled on one of the seats next to you, a small smile appearing onto his face as he folded his leg over the other. "Why hello Miss Director."
You hummed good-naturedly. "Why hello Mister Groom. Not up to saying hello to your fellow cast members yet?" Usually he was good about introducing himself to everyone; he was quite the charmer.
"I told the lovebirds I would pay attention to their chemistry reading for pointers," he grinned, eyes sparkling beneath the dim lights. "Kai's nervous about it."
"Ah," you voiced, glancing back to the stage where Eunwoo and Sana began interacting with Sicheng and the others on stage. "Awful nice of you, Ryan. Where's your darling bride?"
He gave you a show of wistful glance as he turned his eyes toward the ceiling and propped his cheek against his fist. "My beloved? Well, she is working her magic for the wedding. I told her—" he leaned forward onto his knees then, gesturing with his hands, "—I told her, darling! This is your special day. Anything you want is what I want. You should have seen the smile on her face—a daisy in bloom, Miss Ln.”
An amused expression fixed upon your face, you tipped your imaginary hat to him. “I think you should go find your bride, sir, before her plans get out of hand.”
“Her plans could never get out of hand,” he dismissed with the flick of his wrist.
“So you’re a Yes Man now?” You replied, your brain racking for the one part in the script you had written with this exact dialogue.
You saw the recognition flicker in Younghoon’s eyes. “That’s what love does to you, my friend. It’s not the same as those tally marks you always draw in that notebook,” he replied swiftly, gesturing to your script like it was the notebook that Kai was supposed to keep. “Say, you’ve never told me what those were for.”
Pleased, you arched an eyebrow. “That’s not the line, Hoon.”
You saw the moment he snapped out of character. He smiled, the kind of Younghoon trademark everyone could recognize and become spellbound by. “I don’t have the entire script memorized yet, Yn-ie.”
“I bet you have at least half of it memorized.”
He opened his mouth to remark something when someone hollered, “Oy” from the stage. Both you and Younghoon turned your attention to Eunwoo, who had captured both of your attention. He threw his arms open wide with a teasing grin. “Ryan, you’re supposed to be watching my back, man!”
Sana shot him a scowl. “Hey, if you get a second in this duel, then I get one, too. Lily!”
“As much fun as dueling you and winning would be, Alex, I’m not stuck in ye old days—”
“Your savior has arrived!” Everyone’s heads whirled in the direction of the doors at the back of the auditorium. There was a good handful of people who began filing in through the doors, with a very familiar blond at the helm of all the madness. Reminiscent of that one fiery Elmo meme, your best friend had his arms raised with an ear-splitting grin on his face.
Kevin Moon, one of the people amongst the masses, rolled his eyes as he passed Hyunjae to enter the auditorium. “They’re rehearsing, man.”
Choi Chanhee was swift to follow his friend. “Yeah, Hyunjae,” he teased with a grin.
You fixed your friend with a confused look. “Uhm… Hyunjae, what’s happening?”
Hyunjae jogged down to where you were, leaving his army of… people? behind. “You said you needed volunteers to help you prepare set pieces, right? Well, I told you I’d recruit some people and—” He made a wide, sweeping gesture toward the large group of people now simply crowded at the back of the room, awaiting instructions. Kevin and Chanhee sent you boyish smiles as they waved in greeting. “—I did!”
The lightbulb went off in your head. You couldn’t believe you forgot. “Oh, my god. You actually listened.”
Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. “Hurtful.”
Younghoon laid his head against his arms over the back of his seat with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “Aw, how romantic.”
Hyunjae pointed to his lanky actor friend. “Is he in character?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Your head shot over to Younghoon just as his eyes met yours. The man shrugged with feigned innocence, standing up to greet Chanhee and Kevin as the other two began slowly leading the army of volunteers down to where you all were setting up. You wondered how on Earth that man’s partner could stand his impish antics.
Hyunjae slipped into the row with you with a wince. “Aish, I can never figure out when he’s in proper character or not.”
“He is,” you blurted. You knew for a fact that Younghoon hadn’t been in character, but Hyunjae didn’t need to know that. Ignorance was bliss, after all. “But that’s besides the point—Jaehyun—”
He flashed you a smile, bringing his hands up to make a jazz hands gesture. “Uh oh, that’s my name-name. I either did really well or screwed up big time.”
You laughed, pressing your free hand to your forehead. “You did really well—”
“Yes!” He cheered while punching the sky. He laughed, bumbling over to you with arms open wide to embrace you. You simply could not escape him. “You’re welcome.”
You lightly punched his chest. “I never said thank you. But thank you. I appreciate it a lot.”
He let you go, lightly patting your head. A warm wave of energy made your nerves feel fuzzy at their synapses. “You don’t have to thank me for doing this for you. By the way, YH!Yn is on her way over; she’s just coming back from her internship.”
Younghoon suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared in the row again. “I heard YH!Yn’s name,” he chirped with a smile that looked like a heart. He waved his phone screen around, as if you could actually read what was on his screen, “Yeah, she said she’s on her way now.”
You nearly melted. “Oh, really? She doesn’t have to if she’s uncomfortable, Hoon. I know big crowds make her anxious—”
“Ah, it’s all good,” he said. “She’s happy to do it, really. It’s not that big of a crowd here, and you’re her friend, Yn. She wants to help out.”
“Speaking of more friends helping out—” cut in Kevin with Chanhee in tow (where did all of them pop up from, goodness), “—Cobie just texted that he, Sangyeon, Juyeon, and JC!Yn are all on their way, too. What’s the plan for all the set pieces then, Yn?”
All eyes went to you, and you felt your heart swell with love, pride—quite literally every happy emotion there was. This whole project had plagued your every waking and unconscious thought for months now. The pressure for this production to be good… there were too many people watching you now. But as you led your friends and your supposed army of volunteers to the backstage area, you felt like there was no way you could fail.
Right?
— ✶
You were cleaning up for the night. Your throat ached and exhaustion wore at your bones from the very extensive day you and everyone else had. Almost the entire cast and volunteer and tech crew members had cleared out by now—your friends had all decided to get dinner together, and you would all head over once you had finished with your business here.
You hiked the strap of your bag over your shoulder with a haggard sigh as you passed beneath the ghost light hanging backstage that signaled that Jihoon was practically done for the night. You caught a glimpse of the man hustling down the corridor and you called out to him.
“Hey, Jihoon-ah! I was hoping I could catch you on your way out.”
Jihoon glanced up from his phone, his slight smile illuminated in the pale blue-light of his phone screen. “Ah, hey, Yn-ie. Good first rehearsal today?”
You fell into step with him as you both maneuvered the dark backstage corridors together. “Yeah, actually. I’m very proud of everyone’s progress so far. I was so stressed about being a couple weeks behind, but… I’m lucky I have such a good group of people here.”
He hummed, nodding. “Definitely. That one—your Hyunjae—”
Your heart stumbled. “Hyunjae? What about him?”
“It’s nothing, but I thought I should mention that I heard a couple girls gossiping earlier—”
You nearly stopped in your tracks, and you felt something crawl beneath your skin. “What’d they say?”
Jihoon glanced over at you, maybe a bit surprised at how sharp your tone was, but he continued on smoothly, “You know that I don’t like involving myself in that petty drama, right? But they were volunteering with the set pieces and stuff, and they were talking shit about him. The usual, like, cocky, arrogant bullshit. Something about wondering how you put up with him all the time.”
You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. “Jesus,” you swore. “Who were they? I’ll deal with them—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said to you, firmly but not unkindly. The two of you had stopped in the middle of the corridor now, your voices hushed yet harsh still. “Hey, Yn—I took care of it. I don’t tolerate that shit in my theater, you hear? You have a lot on your plate, so I didn’t want you to worry, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”
Breathe, Yn. Your eyes shuddered for a moment. Hyunjae wasn’t always as well-mannered around other people as he was around you and his friends. He was like that for good reason—there were some things in one’s past that shaped who you would become, and unfortunately, that was one thing that you hadn’t been able to protect him from back then. So hearing something like this? You felt awful.
You finally gave Jihoon a nod. “Right, yeah… thanks Jihoon. Really.”
He nodded back. “Of course. Does that happen often?”
You rubbed the place between your eyes where an ache had formed. “No—I mean, he’s just got a front he puts on, but it’s not often. Maybe those girls just witnessed him on one of his bad days. He—” You shook your head.
“I get it; no need to explain it to me,” Jihoon murmured. He gently guided you toward the door out into the main auditorium where Hyunjae said he’d be waiting for you. “He’s a good kid.”
“I know. He’s great.” I love him.
When the two of you emerged into the darkened auditorium, the only light present was the one from Hyunjae’s phone. Your best friend glanced up from his screen, pocketing it away as he stood up to meet you. “Hey, everything okay?”
You and Jihoon exchanged glances. You met Hyunjae’s eyes, your smile small. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
EPISODE THREE: WE’RE ALL JUST TRYING TO KEEP THE STAGE LIGHTS ON
IT was Monday evening when you determined that you had reached the point in time where everything would only escalate from here. There was something about seeing the backstage crowded with techies that made everything seem ten times more real. Your day had begun an hour or two earlier than the actors’ as you came in to meet Jihoon and Bang Chan about set pieces and creative direction. When your actors had come in, rehearsal commenced by working through the first act of the script and creating a deeper understanding of motivations and purpose.
On Saturday, along with the chemistry explorations, there was also a moment where you had to sit everyone down and give them a better understanding of what this project even came from. (There was a real inspiration to the story, but there was no way you could expose yourself like that, especially in front of Hyunjae.) There had been yet another run through of the script, with some of your actors switching up the way they played their parts just slightly. That same experimentation would continue today.
You were in the box with Chan and a couple of his underclassmen peers as the few of you were discussing the matter of spotlights and the like. It was early in the rehearsal process, but it definitely killed to be early.
You heard a slight commotion as the doors at the back of the auditorium opened.
“You got it covered in here?” You asked Chan, already one foot out of the tech box.
Chan flashed you a dimpled smile and a thumb’s up, and you were on your way out and toward the sounds of newcomers. You could already make out the figures of your friends Park Jihyo and Wen Junhui from where you were running up to them.
“YN!” Jihyo squealed as she rushed to come bury you in a hug.
“Oh my god, thanks for coming, you guys,” you gushed, crushing yourself to her.
Jun scurried over, wrapping his limbs around the two of you, as well. The two of them had quite literally insisted on coming to this rehearsal as your sanity check, which you deeply appreciated. Well that, and the fact that Jihyo was helping you manage the finances for this project, as well as any sponsors who came through to support the play. You had never been good with that stuff, but luckily, your econ-business-major friend was. (Jun was always there for moral support; him being versed in acting also helped, too, with directing when you couldn’t.)
The three of you immediately got to work, and you were finally able to return to your own actors as the lot of you worked through the first couple of scenes of act one.
“What do you suggest we talk about?” Eunwoo asked from stage left where he and Younghoon lingered with their scripts in hand. They were standing opposite the stage from Miyeon and Sana, who were supposed to walk onto the stage from the right like walking into a restaurant. The main focus of the scene was supposed to be Miyeon and Sana, but because Younghoon and Eunwoo were still onstage, they had to act like they were actually doing something even if their microphones wouldn’t be activated.
Younghoon gave a shrug and an easygoing smile. “What do you think Kai and Ryan talk about?”
“Kai feels like the kind of pompous jerk who speaks only in Ralph Waldo Emerson and Sylvia Plath.”
“That could be an interesting dynamic,” Jun chimed in.
You lifted a shoulder in agreement. “I say ‘yes’. Let’s just see what this looks like—Eunwoo, play that; Younghoon, play the exact opposite.”
Younghoon sputtered a laugh, but he saluted, understanding your directions (somehow… it was probably because you had worked with him for a long time over the course of both of your academic careers). “Aye-aye.”
You made a waving motion toward stage right where Miyeon and Sana were poking their heads out from behind the curtains. “Ready? Action.”
It turned out that the overly smart version of Kai was not what the scene needed. After a couple of new directions to Eunwoo about this little thing, you eventually settled on a nice in-between that reminded you awfully of a certain someone…
Lo and behold, you heard the doors at the back of the auditorium open up once more. You didn’t turn your attention away from the scene playing out before you, but you had an inkling of who had entered the sphere of the dramatic.
It wasn’t until the brunch scene had finished, you pursed your lips, nodding. “I like that.”
“I like it, too,” Jihyo said, paired with a nod from Jun.
You flipped through your script, asking for the actors taking part in the next scene—the bar scene—to come to the stage. “Uhm, let’s see… I need all of the main cast, barring Kai and Alex, to the stage. I also need Bartender 1 to come out, as well.” You waved your hand around toward the middle of the stage. “Make a little cult circle or something—yes, Younghoon, you have to stand next to Miyeon, silly goose.”
It was now that you finally turned around to confirm your prediction of who had joined the crowd. Just a few rows up from where you and your friends were sat three eager faces. Presently, it was Hyunjae, Eric, and his girlfriend, the former of which greeted you by raising up what looked like an iced caramel macchiato. God bless.
You hustled up to where they were, making grabby hands at the frost drink. “Thank you,” you sighed, accepting the drink and straw from him.
“Aye! Hyunjae!” Younghoon hollered from the stage. “Where’s my drink?”
Hyunjae cupped his hands around his mouth. “The kid has it!”
“I’m not a kid,” Eric sulked as he attempted to cross his arms over his chest while also not spilling the iced americano he was in possession of.
“That’s right!” EC!Yn mused, then added, “You’re my baby.”
Hyunjae wrinkled his nose at the lovey-dovey young lovers. “Oh, now that was awful, EC!Yn,” he groaned. He nudged your elbow from where you stood next to his seat. “Wasn’t that gross?”
Your brain was filled with caramel and caffeine. “Leave them be, Jae. At least they have someone to be gross with.”
Hyunjae mocked a face of offense, and Eric and his girlfriend slipped past you two in youthful giggles to go deliver Younghoon’s drink to him down at the bottom stage. When the two of you were left alone, Hyunjae pressed his cheek against his fist as he peered up at you. “How’s today been so far?”
You finished your sip, swallowing down the sugary, caffeinated goodness. “It’s been alright so far. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Well,” he sighed, “I knew you were probably going hours without water, so I thought I’d at least bring you something pleasant.”
You sat down on the floor beside his aisle seat, silently offering him a sip of the drink he had treated you to. “You know me too well. And what do you mean? You did bring me something pleasant.”
Hyunjae took a ginger sip of the drink then pushed the cup back toward you. He grinned, flipping a lock of imaginary hair behind his shoulder. “Ah, you mean me—”
“I meant the kids,” you teased as you smiled around your straw with a look that was hardly innocent.
He deadpanned at you. “Never letting my head stay in the clouds ever, huh, Miss Ln?”
“Someone has to keep you humble.”
A soft laugh fell from his lips as he shook his head, then pressed his lips to his knuckles. “Well I guess if it's gotta be anybody, it should be you. Then again, that Chanhee keeps me on my toes, too."
"Weren't you the one who said he had no ass first?"
He let out a snort. "I only speak the truth."
"That you do," you agreed.
Hyunjae flicked his phone screen on for a second to catch the time and grunted. "Ugh, I have to go meet with my group members for a project in Public Infrastructure."
Your lips curled downward. "It's literally the first day of the quarter—you have a project already?"
He huffed sharply out of his mouth, sending one of his longer bits of bangs flying upward. "That's what I'm saying. Professor is insane this quarter, especially for putting me in this group. He said he picked our groups for us because we 'don't always get to choose in the real world'." He made a face. "Somebody has hurt that man, and we are paying for it. Pretty sure the people in my group don't even like me."
Your chest ached at that, and you leaned your chin onto his arm rest while he settled his head against the back of his chair. "I'm sorry, Jae. I know group projects are hard with strangers, but maybe they'll be cool with you? Are you just a little anxious maybe?"
"Dunno," he mumbled, picking at a stray thread on the red seat. He raked a hand through his hair, shifting. "I'm just dreading it, I guess. I just have that feeling y'know?"
"Yeah, I get that." You bumped your hand against his, mustering up an encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, Jae. I believe in you."
Hyunjae collected himself enough to smile back. "I can always count on you, Yn."
"Of course," you said, as easy as breathing air. You exhaled, "What are best friends for?"
— ✶
You found yourself seated in the darkness of the auditorium seats, the ghost light of the stage your only company. The ghost light was a single bulb that hung from mid stage in order to prevent any mishaps or accidents from happening when one had to stumble about in the darkness of the theater. It was a single part of theater superstition, as well as a sign that Jihoon and Chan had gone on their way for the night, leaving you to lock up. You'd been given charge of empty theaters before, and frankly, the peace and quiet was something you needed.
The time was nearing nine o'clock though, and your stomach growled at the thought of going back to your warm townhouse shelter for some pity ramen.
You finally shut the lid of your laptop, slipping it into your bag so you could stretch your aching limbs. You popped a couple joints as you did, then reached for your drained cup of iced caramel macchiato.
The rest of rehearsal had gone reasonably well. You were making progress, and that was the important part. Eric and his girlfriend had left a little before Hyunjae had in order to go get dinner together. Hyunjae had understandably been reluctant to leave, but he basically convinced you to let him call you while he made his way over to his project meet up location. You were directing as he did, but he didn't seem to mind and listened quietly with the occasional humorous comment.
You hoped he was doing okay.
Just as you slung your bag over your shoulder, typing out a fast text to Hyunjae to ask about how it went, your ears picked up the faint sound of creaking wood.
You froze, your head whipping around the very empty theater for the sound.
You heard it again—it was the slow, haunting creeeak, like someone was taking a deliberately drawn-out step. The hand around your phone tightened as you turned your gaze to the stage. The ghost light hung eerily in the now-quiet hall, its amber light creating a circle of light beneath it like a beacon for creatures of the night.
Creeeak… creeeak…
"Jihoon?" You called out. "Chan? Is that you?"
The creaking stopped; a shiver crawled down your spine.
"Is someone there?"
When you were met with silence, you pressed a hand to your forehead, speed-walking up the aisle of the theater and out into the lobby. Swiftly locking all the doors behind you as you made your exit, you figured you were probably just hearing things.
As you deposited your empty cup into the trash bin just outside the theater doors, you received a reply from Hyunjae. The performance hall door thunked closed after you twisted the lock mechanism into place.
With no more than a glance at the dark windows, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the bus stop.
EPISODE FOUR: IT'S ALWAYS THE DARK AND STORMY NIGHTS
FRIDAY night brought an onslaught of the sky's wrath in the form of a storm. Rehearsal had progressed decently, and while you did appreciate how hard everyone was working, you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t rush the process if you wanted a phenomenal end product. You just needed to have faith in the people you were working with.
Nearly everyone had gone home by now, barring yourself, Jihoon, Chan, and a couple of undergrads they were keeping around to show them the ropes. You were in the backstage area packing up your things to head out for the night. You could hear the voices of your peers echoing slightly through the bowels of the theater, but none of them were too near to your location.
The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood up as you reached for a page of script cues that one of the techies had left behind on a stool.
You straightened, your eyes scanning the backstage area. All the lights were on tonight since Jihoon and Chan were still here. The ghost light was not your only companion tonight, and yet…
There had been a feeling creeping up on you this past week… something unsettling like you were being watched. Perhaps it wasn’t you specifically being watched—it was more so that you were never truly alone when you knew no one else was here with you. There was something bothering you about the shadows of the theater lately, and they had almost never been anything but comforting.
You had to visibly suppress your soul from jumping out of your skin when you heard that goddamn wooden creaking sound.
“Yn-ie?”
Your heart did about five cartwheels and a barrel leap as you whirled around to find Chan coming in from the other side of the curtain. He noticed your jumpiness and concern fell over his features. “Hey, you good?”
You usually weren’t so much of a scaredy cat, dear god. You let out a laugh, though it sounded more nervous than you liked. “Yeah—no, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little antsy, is all.” Yeah, that’s it. You slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder and walked over to Chan to bump fists with him in greeting. “You and the others wrapping up?”
Chan’s eyes swept over you and his mouth quirked into an expression that told you he didn’t believe your “I’m fine” bit at all. But he was never one to pry where he believed to be crossing a line. “Not really, actually,” he sighed, cupping the back of his neck above the headset hanging there, as the two of you moved back into the main auditorium together. “We just realized that some of the speakers have been left on for the past week. They seem to keep coming on even though we turn them off; just outdated tech, I guess. But we’re trying to see if we can fix them before considering getting new ones.”
The hammering in your heart subsided for a moment as your brows pinched together and your brain switched into work-mode. “Really? Okay, well, let me know if I can do anything to help—that is weird.”
You eventually said goodnight to everyone left in the performing arts hall as you let yourself out through the front doors. The rain seemed to have subsided from earlier, and the night was left with dark cumulus clouds looming above your head, and rain-soaked streets that smelled heavily of metal and petrichor. A cold, biting wind swept past your face and nipped at your extremities as you pulled your jacket around you tighter.
The walk to the bus stop wasn’t an awfully long one, but…
You stopped.
You swore you just heard a clattering sound from just behind you. Your attention went to a collection of trash cans sitting only a few meters behind you. When no animal revealed itself to be the source of the noise, you clutched your small canister of mace into your fist.
A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, and you turned on your heel to start walking faster toward the bus stop.
There weren’t many street lights posted in this area of campus, but if you could just get—
“YN!”
You nearly screamed when someone grabbed you by the shoulder, and you lifted the can of mace up in between you and the person.
“Shit, Yn. It’s just me!” Hyunjae slapped his palm over yours and shoved the nozzle of the mace can down and out of his vision. He wrestled your body to a stop, anchoring you to reality. “Holy shit, honey. Shhh, calm down. It’s just me.”
You furiously inhaled and exhaled, your chest rising and falling as you pressed a hand to your sternum. “Lee Hyunjae, what is wrong with you?” You growled. Had it been him this whole time?
Hyunjae dared a cheeky smile. “Well, I just saw you from down the street and I thought you saw me, but you kept walking. I guessed you were just in your head tonight, so I thought it’d be fun to surprise you.”
“You don’t grab a girl in the middle of a darkened, abandoned street and yell in her ear to surprise her.” Your eyes were hard as you reprimanded him; he was your best friend, yes, but you nearly had a heart attack right then. Your nerves were so on-edge that you just couldn’t joke with him at this moment.
He winced then. “Ah, when you put it like that…” He pressed his lips together, eyes taking in your tense form. There was something else in your face other than annoyance at his stupidity—something that troubled him. His voice grew soft, his touch even softer, as his hand cupped the back of your shoulder in a warm hold. “Hey, everything okay? I’m really sorry for doing that; it was stupid of me.”
You huffed a sigh and avoided his eyes. “This isn’t the first time I thought someone was watching me,” you confessed lowly, so not even the wind could hear you.
Hyunjae’s eyes widened when you said that, and he was swift to wrap an arm around your shoulders and gather you against him. His gaze surveyed your surroundings and the shadows seemed to dance in his view; his breath hitched. “Let’s get you home,” he murmured then, “I’m parked nearby.”
EPISODE FIVE: THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM
THE next day, Jihyo, Jun, Jacob, and Kevin were seated deep into the nosebleeds within the dim areas of the theater. Straight ahead, you and Hyunjae stood in the first few rows of seats as the actors were doing a run-through of the first act of the play. Hyunjae simply sat in the seat next to you, but you were doing your director thing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary at all to see you two so close, but something had shifted overnight from the last time all of them had seen you and he interact.
“Remind me again why you guys are here so early?” Jihyo’s question was directed toward Jacob and Kevin as she sipped on her morning cup of coffee. Everyone in the row was armed with their own cup of caffeinated brew, too; that was simply what being awake at nine on a Saturday morning called for.
Kevin peered at the other two from around Jacob. “His girlfriend and Chanhee are grocery shopping.”
Jun snorted. “Are they roommates? Why’s Chanhee grocery shopping with JC!Yn? Sounds a bit random.”
“They’re with her roommate and Changmin, too,” Jacob replied with a joking roll of his eyes. “Kevin’s just petty that they’ve never thought to extend the invitation to us.”
“Hey! You always hint at wanting to join them, too. It’s not just me, good sir.”
“I asked once, and when she said no, I never asked again—”
“—he’d only say that because he’s been scorned by love,” Younghoon lamented from the stage, his arm braced along the back of Miyeon’s folding chair. Props were still being finalized between a couple options, but Jun had found a bunch of folding chairs in a closet that you could use for the bar scene. Everyone’s attention moved away from invitation-less friends to friends playing pretend. He made a dramatic gesture, clutching his heart, then straightening with a laugh as he teased his friend who wasn’t in the scene. “I still think it’s stupid that he and Alex never worked out.”
Eunbi’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline as her hand, holding a water bottle that would later be replaced with a drink glass, froze in mid-air. “I’m sorry? This is news to me. Since when did Kai and Alex even have a chance at ‘working out’?”
Miyeon let out a delighted gasp. “Oh, where to begin?”
Yerin piped in with a lazier gesture with her water bottle. “They weren’t always sworn enemies, y'know. Once upon a time, the ‘lovebirds’ were actually lovebirds,” she chuckled at her own joke—or, her character’s joke.
Younghoon explained, "Their parents pretty much pitted them against each other since the end of middle school. They used to be friends, actually, and they were top of their class in practically everything. Except…"
"Academic League?" Eunbi guessed with her brows twisted. "I remember hearing about something like that."
"Yeah, I mean," Miyeon added, "something happened in junior year and it's been like that since."
"What happened in junior year?—"
Jihyo watched the performance with narrowed eyes, her body leaned forward onto her knees. "This sounds awfully familiar."
The three boys turned their heads her way. "What do you mean?"
She shook her head, eyes fluttering. She made a face and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly like what I'm… Jun, you remember when Yn told us about—you know?"
"That she almost confessed to Hyunjae? Ow! I'm sorry!" Jun yelped as Jihyo slapped his shoulder, hard.
Jacob and Kevin exchanged wide-eyed glances. "She almost confessed to Hyunjae? When?"
Jihyo sent Jun another hard glare, to which he sheepishly raised his hands in surrender, before replying, "Yn said offhandedly once that in junior year of high school, she was almost going to confess her feelings to Hyunjae, but then suddenly decided not to."
Kevin leaned his chin onto his fist. "Huh…"
"I don't know how I didn't even notice this before when I read through the script," Jihyo thought aloud. "Alex and Kai are Yn and Hyunjae—just…with a different ending."
All four heads turned to face forward once more, except, their attention zeroed in on you and Hyunjae. YH!Yn had appeared beside you, most likely updating you on the progress of the massive prop project she was working on for the play. You listened to her report intently as Hyunjae sat next to you, his head leaned onto your shoulder as he played some game on his phone. It was far too soft, far too—there was no way you based this all off of your own experience with Hyunjae, right?
In fact, it was possible.
As YH!Yn let you know that she would have to buy a few more PVC pipes from the hardware store, you assured her that she would be reimbursed for those expenses.
“—I know how busy you are—”
YH!Yn smiled sweetly as she cut you off, “Oh, no worries at all! I’m happy to help, as Hoon said before. Plus, this is a lot more fun than my internship; feels like a little creative project I get to nerd out on.”
You grinned at that sentiment. “Ah, I totally get that. Well, I won’t keep you from it any longer. Thanks again.”
YH!Yn gave a brief goodbye, then stood up to head back out to the backstage area where she was putting together the portable fountain she was building (you had given her a list of possible “show-stopping” prop ideas you had and she had picked the fountain). As she left, you watched as she passed by the bottom stage to catch Younghoon’s hand. Something like yearning ached in your chest. One day…
The mass weighing on your opposite shoulder stirred as he let out a noise of surprise. “Huh?”
You glanced over at him as best you could, then flashed Younghoon a thumb’s up to signal him that you were paying attention now. “Huh what?”
Hyunjae sat up straight, his nose scrunched, eyes pinned to his phone screen. “Didn’t you have a friend named Ellie in like, high school?”
Your lips curled into a slight frown at the name; it definitely rang a bell. “I did, what about her?” You asked. The sounds of the dialogue happening on stage faded to glorified background noise as you leaned over to peer at Hyunjae’s phone screen. There, he had a new text thread pulled up with an unknown number introducing herself as Ellie, a “classmate of his from high school”. Not only were you frowning, but your forehead creased, too. It had been ages since you had last been in contact with her. The two of you had been the best of friends before you drifted apart.
To be honest, you had no idea how the two of you drifted apart so easily when you’d been so close to her, but you ended up getting closer to Hyunjae anyway. You chalked it up to differences in interests, but maybe now you could get some answers. Well, that was depending on why she was texting Hyunjae.
“She texted me,” he said, holding the screen between you two. “Recognize the number?”
You could barely remember your own number. Shaking your head, you lifted your gaze back up to the stage where your actors had already moved through most of the scene. “Nope. Might be a new one since it’s been so long. Wonder how she got your phone number.”
Hyunjae blew out a puff of air as he laughed—you saw him begin to type out a response from the corner of your eye. “How do people not get my number at this point,” he grumbled under his breath.
— ✶
It wasn’t until you were seated in the booth of Junhui’s favorite Chinese restaurant on the Ave that he and Jihyo ambushed you with The Question™.
“So when were you going to tell us that the play was about you and Hyunjae?”
Your movements paused, then resumed so you could properly settle into your seat. "At least let me order first."
To their credit, your friends withheld from further questioning until the waiter had come by to take the table's order. When she had gone and was out of earshot, Jihyo pounced, whipping her head over to you and placing a hand on the table between you. You realized suddenly that you were trapped between her and the wall.
"Spill."
Your eyes widened a smidge, intimidated. "How did you guys figure it out? I mean, it's not that obvious, is it?"
Jun shook his head. "Nah, not really. Ji was just on five shots of espresso this morning apparently."
Jihyo sent him a pointed look. "I was not on five shots of espresso…" She murmured, "It was two."
"Okay, five shots, two shots—" Jihyo flapped her hands around as she angled her body toward you. "It was the bar scene and they were all talking about Alex and Kai. And I thought that the bit about junior year sounded really familiar."
"I can't believe you didn't confess to him back then," Jun feigned a disproving shake of his head while clicking his tongue.
You leaned your face against the palm of your hand with an unpretty fwump. "Guys, the play is basically centered around the idea: what if I had confessed to Hyunjae and it went wrong?"
"Just ten times more dramatic," Jun pointed out.
"And," Jihyo added, "their roles are switched. Kai's the one who confesses to Alex in the play, and it's Alex's ex who makes a grand showing at the wedding festivities to cause trouble. Yn doesn't have an ex."
"Uncalled for," you grunted.
Jihyo gave a charmingly beautiful smile that could make all the world fall at her feet. "You love me."
"You're lucky you're cute."
Jun sipped on his water. "I'm right here."
You and Jihyo bursted into giggles, the sound like twinkling bells. Jun sighed softly, but you saw the corners of his lips lift up into a small smile. For a moment, you had forgotten what the topic of this conversation was.
You sobered slightly, your hands reaching for your water glass to take a gulp, then nurse it between your palms. "Have you ever heard the saying that we always try to recreate our first heartbreak in order to rewrite how it ends?"
Jihyo and Jun quieted. They peered at you with eyes that could peer straight into your soul if you let them. That was why you couldn't exactly meet their eyes as you tried to articulate your thoughts behind writing this whole mess. "I mean," you pursed your lips, "it wasn't a heartbreak; it was never a heartbreak. My heart hadn't been broken because how could it be broken if I never even let it. You know?"
"That's not how a lot of hearts are broken, Yn," Jun murmured with a sincere depth to his dark brown eyes. There was something so soulful about them. "Most are broken in silence."
You huffed slightly. "That was a great line."
"I know—"
"Ahem," Jihyo said, reigning the both of you drama geeks back into the realm of real talk. She leaned over to wrap her arms around you, her head resting on top of your own. "So you wrote this… to conquer your fears? To comprehend your feelings?"
"To imagine, to wish, to dream," you added. It was quite sad, really. You couldn't quite think of writing anything else when the time had come to start drafting your thesis. "We write what we know best."
"I thought Hyunjae was basically there throughout this whole process," Jun said, his elbows resting on top of the table as he gestured vaguely. "How has he not figured out that Alex is him?"
You gave a shrug. You couldn't imagine how he hadn't yet figured it out, but it wasn't exactly the most obvious thing. You would soon rather go missing than Hyunjae ever figuring out the truth behind the play's inspiration. Whenever he asked you, it was always "I was so inspired by Kenneth Branuagh and Emma Thompson's rendition of the play" and "I wanted to spice up an old, timeless play and give it a kick of Today". He believed that you were writing a play based solely upon the themes of childhood manipulation, academic pressure, and miscommunication. And you were—just not only those things.
Your thesis would have never been accepted if you'd only presented a skeleton of a play about your nonexistent love life. All of the additions and embellishments to the story had come easy as you pieced together the plotline. But the two main characters had never changed.
With that now settled, the food arrived at your table. (What a brilliantly timed, cosmic coincidence!) You and your friends thought it best to move onto other topics of conversation. Somehow, you had reached the topic of your recent week of weird feelings. Not just about Hyunjae, but about the strange feeling of constantly not being alone. You'd even explained the entire debacle from last night, with Hyunjae scaring you then rushing you home.
Jihyo and Jun both replied appropriately: "Girl, what the fuck?"
You brushed it off with a nonchalance that was not convincing. (Then again, you were never an actress yourself.)
The rest of dinner progressed relatively smoothly, and when the check had come and gone, you wanted to offer a mint to your friends.
"—shit," you swore as you dug around in your bag. When your hand came up empty-handed, you brushed that same hand through your hair. "I left my Altoids in the theater."
Jihyo finished signing her bill, tucking her card away. "Oh? Well, let's go get them."
Jun bobbed his head as he shouldered his coat on. "Yeah, it's no problem, Yn-ie."
"Really? You guys don't have to; they're just min—"
"Nonsense!" Jihyo chirped. She stood up and out of the booth, giving you the space to slip out after her. She then linked your arm with hers, then hooked her other with Jun's. "Power in numbers, my love."
You could do nothing but agree—wholeheartedly. The way your heart rate slowed when she insisted that she and Jun would accompany you showed just how grateful you were. You probably wouldn't have even gone to retrieve them tonight, but waited until Monday instead. They were just mints, after all, but you were appreciative nonetheless. Even for a small item, they would be by your side.
The journey back to the theater was a brief one as Jun drove the three of you back to the performing arts center and pulled into the space right by the stairs up to the hall. You recalled leaving them on one of the dressing room tables in the back corridors, so you used your student ID to buzz into the back hallway of the performing arts building.
You and your friends' voices hushed as you all crept into the dark, abandoned building. When the door closed behind you all, you turned your phone flashlight on to guide your way toward the dressing rooms.
"It should be in one of these rooms," you told your friends as you entered the hallway of doors. You located a familiar number and pushed into the room, swiftly retrieving the teal-colored metal box of minty sweets on the vanity table.
The door closed softly when you slipped out.
"Hey, how's YH!Yn's fountain project coming along?" Jun asked as the three of you began to make your way back toward the back door.
"Oh yeah!" Jihyo perked up. "How's that going? She's so badass for that."
"Isn't she?" You gushed. "Do you guys wanna see her progress?"
There was an obvious answer to that, and the three of you made a hard one hundred eighty degree turn, swerving back down the corridor from which you had just come from. Your conspiratorial giggles echoed within the rafters and bowels of the theater, as if you were pixies from A Midsummer Night's Dream, frolicking through the forest in which they dwelled.
When you reached the vicinity of the backstage area, your footsteps faltered.
It was still dark.
You frowned, slowly stepping into the backstage area.
"Yn? What's wrong?"
Jun said it before you could, "Huh. The ghost light's not on."
Indeed, the bulb that was supposed to be on when no light was, was pitch black. A cool breeze drifted down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck and your arms stand up.
"Could Jihoon or Chan have forgotten on their way out?"
"You know Jihoon's not one to forget."
You drifted away from your friends as you slowly stepped into the backstage area. Your flashlight shone toward the walls first as you aimed to make your way toward the lights panel. It would be an easy fix—
Your heart dropped clean into the pit of your stomach.
The light of your flashlight illuminated the absolute chaos.
Setting and backdrop pieces that had been painted by volunteers, articles of clothing collected for people's costumes, scripts left behind torn out of their staples—all of it was flung about and scattered over the backstage floor. It was like a tornado had swept through the area, and you knew your friends were seeing what you were seeing now.
You held your breath for so long you were pretty sure you were imagining the hands shaking you.
Somebody had come in and took their rage out on your play. But who, and more importantly, why?
EPISODE SIX: PHANTOM OF THE PERFORMING ARTS HALL
"WHAT'S up with the ghost light anyway?"
There was a group of you gathered by the stage of the performing arts hall, the house lights having been turned on after you'd made a call to Jihoon and campus security. Along with Jihoon and campus security, however, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Eric, and Younghoon had also appeared. You had shot Hyunjae a text about what had happened and he'd rushed over with his friends—you felt awful about pulling them away from whatever they were doing, but Hyunjae didn't say anything about it.
You sat on the edge of the stage next to Jihyo with Jun and Hyunjae standing by you both on the floor of the auditorium. Well, Hyunjae stood in front of you and you leaned your chin on top of his beanie-covered head while the lot of you waited for whatever security pulled up from the limited amount of cameras. Jihoon had disappeared somewhere to make a call—you would hear from him, too, soon.
The question had been posed by Juyeon, who sat next to Eric and Younghoon in the first row of nosebleeds.
Jun dragged a hand down the side of his face, then rubbed his mouth. "Ah, it's uhm, old theater superstition," he replied. "Usually, backstage crew leaves the ghost light on so anybody coming in doesn't trip on anything or accidentally get hurt or, y'know—break anything."
"It couldn't have just gone out because of the power then?" Hyunjae asked.
Younghoon shook his head. "Usually it runs on the same electricity that every other light runs on. I've never been in a theater where the ghost light just randomly goes out, and there weren't any power outages today either."
"The problem isn't even about the ghost light," you said. Everyone's eyes flickered over to you and Hyunjae. Hyunjae patted one of the legs you had on either side of his upper body as a means of consolation or comfort. "It's about the props and costumes. We're just lucky that they were just scattered and not properly damaged. We would've been set back another week at least."
Eric perked up. "Maybe it's the ghost of Shakespeare haunting the hall!"
A snort fell from your lips as you mused, "Shakespeare in the park?"
Hyunjae cleared his throat as he prepared his best rendition of the Iron Man line: "Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?"
As the two of you shared a giggle and fistbump, the other remaining members of your party sent you strange, confused looks.
Younghoon gave an eye roll. "Oh dear god, you two really are meant for each other."
You caught Jun and Jihyo whip their heads toward you, but before anything else could be said, Jihoon was hustling back into the auditorium from the lobby doors in the back. He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he jogged over to where all of you were gathered, those signature bags under his eyes prominently featured. Oh, you definitely felt terrible.
"What'd they say, Jihoon?" Jihyo asked first.
Jihoon tucked his hands into his pockets as he joined the loose cult circle. "Security found that the locks on the front of the hall were picked open, so they wouldn't have gotten a record of somebody's card being used. Cams picked up someone dressed in black, but they knew where the camera would have gotten a clear shot of them. But because there wasn't anything officially damaged, there isn't much legal action we can take."
Juyeon offered quietly, "Breaking and entering."
Jihoon gestured to him. "Right. Breaking and entering, but that's about it." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "It wasn't just a prank or whatever. At least, I don't think so. What do you think, Yn?"
You swallowed, straightening slightly. "I don't think so either. I mean, I don't think any drunk pranksters would go through the trouble of picking open a lock. Even a sober one."
"Maybe a spiteful classmate," Jun suggested with a meager shrug. "Some people are ruthless."
"If there isn't much we can do, or much security is willing to do," you muttered, "then we should call it a night. We just have to take pains to lock everything up every rehearsal now."
Jihoon nodded sharply. "Right. Pains, but necessary ones."
"I'm sorry this happened to you," Eric frowned. A murmur of agreement echoed from everyone else in the group.
You pursed your lips. "It's okay, I—it's not okay, obviously, but I'm glad no one's hard work was properly destroyed. That's all that matters." Even if your nerves were a little shaken. Who could have done this?
The remainder of your time spent in the theater was picking everything up and putting them in their rightful places. By the time the group of you had finished locking everything up, the night had slipped away into its proper depths. Everyone was ready to get the hell out of here and go home to their beds, and Jihoon was certain to show you the ghost light being turned and sustaining for at least a couple minutes before the two of you were the last out.
Juyeon, Eric, Younghoon, and Jihoon said their goodnights and goodbyes, already departing their separate ways to go home. You lifted your head up to find where Jihyo and Jun were waiting for you when you saw Hyunjae standing closer to the entryway of the hall. He gave you a sleepy smile, opening up his arms for you to walk right into.
"Tired?" He chuckled, the sound creating a soft vibration in his chest as you shoved your face into his pretty-smelling sweater.
"Mm," you grunted. "You didn't go home with Younghoon?"
"Nah. I wanna go home with you."
In any other context, in any other situation, that would have meant something completely different. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around his frame. With a nod, you screwed your eyes shut and swept away those wistful thoughts. "Okay, fine."
You didn't know why you kept doing this to yourself. But he was your best friend, and tonight was… a lot. A friendly sleepover was something you needed—at least, that was what you were telling yourself.
— ✶
Being the oh-so courteous guest he was (especially since he practically invited himself over), Hyunjae let you take the shower first. You shared a townhouse a bus ride away from the university campus with two others whom you knew from rooming with them your first year of college. You had lucked out with the random roommate assignments that year, and the three of you weren't the closest nor best of friends, but you found great housemates in each other, which was just as valuable.
You had your own room and ensuite up on the topmost floor, so you and Hyunjae had a bit of privacy and wouldn't bother your friends below. You had finished with your shower a bit ago, so you were settled on your bed, flipping through emails and ensuring no important ones had ended up in the spam folder.
When you heard the door open from the bathroom, you glanced up, but returned your gaze back to this one email about a sponsorship that needed to be added to the playbill later.
"I accidentally grabbed the wrong shirt."
You hummed in question as you quickly forwarded the email to Jihyo, then looked up. A laugh sputtered out of your mouth as you took in Hyunjae taking up the space of your doorway. He was in a pair of his own sweatpants that he often left here, but instead of one of his t-shirts, he must have accidentally grabbed one of your tops. It was a Hello Kitty one you'd found in the back of your closet awhile ago, and fit you pretty nicely, so it looked strained on Hyunjae.
You flopped onto the bed, rolling around in your own laughter. "Jae!—your tits don't fit in that, honey."
Hyunjae's mouth stretched into a grin, his tongue darting out for a second. His dirty blond hair, damp and curly, hung slightly in his eyes over his forehead. "Oh, shut up."
To your detriment (you deserved this, you really did), he then smiled (more like, smirked) as he casually lifted the top over his head.
Your eyes widened just as your entire body lit up on fire. "Hey, woah there! Dude!" You jokingly covered your eyes—your whole face—with your hands as he flicked the shirt off, straightened it out, then stalked over to your closet to swap tops.
Hyunjae rolled his eyes as he ripped another shirt from a hanger and came to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "You've seen me shirtless before, Yn. Calm down."
No. How could you just calm down—? It was nearly impossible when you saw the way the muscles in his back rippled as he yanked the new, white T-shirt over his head. With muted sadness, you watched as the toned muscle on his stomach disappeared beneath the fabric.
Damn.
"You're drooling."
Your eyes darted up to where he was grinning down at his phone screen now, only looking at you from his periphery where you were still lying on the bed.
You huffed, rising onto your knees and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day. But you subtly swiped your thumb across your lower lip to make sure you weren't actually drooling. This is your best friend, Yn; control yourself. "Loser."
"Child."
"Chicken."
"Weirdo."
"Nerd!" You shot back, making him laugh as you draped yourself over his back and tucked his head under your chin. His wet, cold hair tickled your skin, but it was a welcome sensation.
You peered down at his phone with him from your perch. "Who's that?" You asked as he opened up a new text notification from a new number.
You were scanning the message the sender had texted while Hyunjae huffed. "Another of your suitors, milady," he drawled sarcastically.
The message said something like "would she be interested?", the "she" referring to you.
Hyunjae typed out: In you? Probably not.
You let out a gasp, hitting him playfully on the (muscle of his) shoulder. "Hyunjae!"
He snickered, exiting out of the text chain, then deleting the number. "What? I'm just being honest. I feel like every dude who's interested in you goes through me to ask and it's so lame."
You absentmindedly watched as he opened up Instagram and started brainlessly doom-scrolling. "Maybe it's 'cause you've so clearly friendzoned me," you muttered incoherently under your breath.
"Huh? What was that?"
"Maybe it's 'cause they see you as the gatekeeper," you amended, leaving him to climb off your bed and step into the bathroom to prepare your toothbrush for use.
You could hear the incredulity in his voice. "Gatekeeper? Pfft, no way. They're all just cowards; they don't deserve you if they can't ask you out to your face." After a second, he added, "Hey, I don't gatekeep you!"
You made a face at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth. "Uh-huh."
"That's not reassuring, Yn-ie."
You poked your head out of the bathroom and made eye contact with where he had rearranged his position so he sat up against the headboard. "I was just agreeing with you," you teased, then retreated back into the bathroom to finish up your night routine.
"No, you weren't, you menace."
You flicked the lights in the bathroom and bedroom off and rolled onto the bed next to him. The two of you laid facing each other in the dark, your bodies kept to your own sides of the bed and blanket. You both were propped onto your sides, one arm tucked beneath your head.
"I don't gatekeep you," he said into the silence, his voice lowering to match the volume of darkness. He poked your cheek with a finger, as if he could stamp the declaration there.
You gave a small smile. "Okay, Jae." A thought suddenly occurred to you as you broke your stare-down to twist around and grab your phone from the nightstand to see if Jihyo and Jun had said something to the group chat. "Oh, by the way, did you ever figure out what Ellie wanted?"
Hyunjae shifted so he was on his back now, one hand still braced behind his head and the other resting on his stomach—but his eyes still watched you. "Something about a random high school project from senior year. She couldn't find the file for it and wanted to draw inspiration from it or something."
"I didn't know you had a project with her in senior year," you said offhandedly, shutting your phone off and replacing it onto the nightstand. You sighed, slipping further beneath the covers and closer to Hyunjae.
He drew you close, tucking you beneath his chin this time. "Yeah, it wasn't really important. Nothing to worry about."
"I wasn't worrying."
You could already feel yourself drifting off into dreamland, the exhaustion in your eyes making your eyelids close like valance curtains at the very front, lowering to mask the backstage magic from the audience. Except, the magic were your thoughts rocketing into the realm of the fictional. For a split second, you thought about somebody being in your position with your best friend one day. Would it hurt to think about then as much as it did now?
You couldn't exactly think about that future right now. Hyunjae, you liked to think, was far from letting anyone new into his carefully-maintained walls. He had been hurt by people before, and you'd be damned if you didn't protect him from that ever happening again.
You thought Hyunjae had fallen asleep until you felt his thumb brush against the back of your shoulder. "When have I ever friend-zoned you?"
Your heart stuttered in your chest for a moment, but it wasn't enough to wake you up completely. As you drifted off fully, you convinced yourself that you had imagined him saying that. You were both awfully tired, anyway.
EPISODE SEVEN: OH SHIT, WAS MY MIC ON?
TWO whirlwind weeks had flown by. You could hardly even soak in the moments of this last undergraduate project before it all began to blur together. The only ways you were able to properly tell time were crossing out calendar dates and—
“Oh my god, oh my god! Get it out, get it out!”
You, along with everyone present in the main auditorium of the performing arts hall, came to a screeching halt as a flurry of squeals erupted from somewhere deep backstage. You and the conductor of the pit orchestra exchanged concerned expressions before you were making a beeline for the fastest access point backstage. Younghoon and Eunwoo were swift to accompany you, and though you had a sinking feeling you knew what this was, you held your grimace for when you confirmed your suspicions.
Over the past couple of weeks, the feeling of being watched had not faded from the back of your mind. You tried to adjust rehearsal schedules so that they were a little earlier in the evening, but people had lives and you simply could not inconvenience them based on someone trying to scare you. Plus, with the spring season flying in swiftly, the sun retired a lot later, which gave you some peace of mind, at least.
But over that same time, the person meddling with your show had ceased to cease. One day it was sky blue fabric strewn all over the main stage; another day it was peacock feathers left in the projection box; there were cables missing from tech, headsets changed to radio channels. Somebody was clearly pulling out all the stops to ensure that this theater and production was full of old theater superstitions and bad luck, either to scare you or the people you were working with (or both), and frankly—it was working. To an extent.
You stormed into the back corridor of the performing arts hall, the supporting cast and tech crew all sprinkled about the hallway, anxiously watching you and your friends pass by them toward one of the larger dressing rooms.
“What is going on?” You demanded as you entered the dressing room. There was a small gathering of people gawking at something—the dressing room vanity mirror. The breath left your lungs at the sight.
The surface of the mirror was vandalized, the infamous word “Macbeth” scrawled all over its reflective plane in red lipstick. Some of the product had begun to melt from the heat of the lightbulbs around the mirror and dripped down the mirror like blood. It would have been a comical prank if this wasn’t a theater. You felt a stiff, cool breeze run across your skin.
Somebody was really trying to fuck you over, huh.
You shoved down a swallow. “Somebody get me some Windex,” you croaked. When nobody moved, you repeated yourself, forcing a bit more strength into your voice.
Chan appeared in the room, his own eyes pinned to the subject matter upon the mirror, as he handed you a bottle of Windex and an old rag.
You snatched it out of his hands with a “thank you”, then marched up to the mirror. With shaky hands, you began scrubbing away at the word written over and over on the mirror. You heard Chan corral everyone out of the dressing room and back to their original activities. All your senses had dulled by now, and you felt Younghoon gently pry the rag from your hands so he could reach the spaces that you couldn’t.
“Who is doing this?” You voiced to the now sparsely populated dressing room. You sat in one of the dressing room chairs with your hand pressed to your forehead with Younghoon, Chan, and Jihoon present. Eunwoo had gone out to calm people down, but you knew that this was going to draw a line for some people. It was a known superstition not to utter the name of the notorious Scottish Play in a theater, and it had just been named about a couple dozen times on the mirror behind you.
Your friends could offer no suggestions.
Your pride took an even bigger hit when you decided to cut the remainder of rehearsal for the day; you were certain there were at least a handful of people who were scandalized by what just happened.
“Are you okay, though?” Younghoon asked you for the third time as the two of you watched people leave the performing arts hall from the base of the nosebleeds. “I know that you’re not usually so… swayed by superstition.”
You could only give a stiff shrug. “I’m not,” you agreed, “but this is going to be the biggest project and production of my undergrad career. I don’t—I can’t take any chances.” You smoothed a hand over one half of your face. “God, I’m just tired, Hoon. I’m so stressed, and cutting rehearsal short today—we’re gonna be set back another day—”
“Hey,” he soothed, grasping you by the shoulders so you would look him in the eye. He offered a kind smile, “You’re doing great, Yn. I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under right now for this to go perfectly, but I think you have to have a little faith in all of us, including yourself. One rehearsal is not going to make a difference in the long run. We’ve got a lot of talented, hard-working people who will sleep this mishap off and come right back to make up for lost time.”
He squeezed your shoulder. “And whoever’s been doing this? They’ll get their due karma.”
You let his words soak into your brain. You needed this; you needed those words said to you. With a nod, you and Younghoon deigned to head out with everyone else. Jihoon and Chan were swift to shut the theater down for the evening, as well.
As you and Younghoon stepped out into the early evening, the sky still glowed a buttery yellow swirled in purpley-blue. There was another breeze wafting by, but instead of the chills you got before, it was slightly warmer and made you inhale deeply. The air out here made your lungs less constricted, you realized, and maybe you’d been stuck in that theater for too long lately. This would be good for you, as well as everyone else.
“I think me and some of the cast are gonna get together to go over some scenes at the grove,” said Younghoon as he peered down at his phone screen. “Wanna come with?”
You brushed a strand of hair from your face, a decision coming to surface. “Nah, I think I’m gonna take a walk. Get some fresh air.”
Younghoon passed you a brilliant-sort of smile that gleamed in the golden hour light. “Alrighty, director. Sounds good. Have a good night then, Yn-ie.”
“Yeah, you too. Thanks for today, Hoon.”
You and Younghoon parted ways there, and while he traveled down the stairs toward east campus, you traveled northward toward the quad. The quad, a place most known for the cherry blossom trees that bloomed in the early spring, was no doubt full of people taking late afternoon strolls in the temperate spring climate. It was the perfect environment for you to relax and let some of the stress and pressure fade from your pulsing temples.
There were no longer cherry blossom flowers blooming upon the dark branches, but healthy, dark green leaves. Even if they were shades of pink, they were still beautiful nonetheless.
After making a full loop around the quad lawn’s perimeter, you made a detour down one of the side pathways that were lined in trees that yawned toward its partner on the other side of the pathway. It was noticeably quieter and less populated here, and for once, you actually didn’t feel like you were being watched.
You were walking for only a few minutes in the serenity when you saw a pair of people standing in a clearing of trees just to your two o'clock. You stopped, a familiar blond haired best friend catching your eyes.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Was what you heard from Hyunjae, and you almost marched right up to them to defend him.
That was, until you saw the girl's face.
You hadn't recognized her at first because she had her back facing you and she had changed her hair. But it wasn't difficult to recognize your old friend, Ellie, the one who Hyunjae said had contacted her. Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. Why were they together right now? You thought Hyunjae had said weeks ago that she was just trying to get ahold of an old project they'd done together in high school.
Ellie placed her hands on her hips, her facial expression stony and unreadable. "Can you think rationally for a second and listen to me all the way through? That's what you agreed to when you said you'd meet me."
Huh?
You pressed your side against the nearest tree trunk, your heart thundering your eardrums.
When Hyunjae said nothing, Ellie continued, exhaling sharply, "Okay. As I was saying earlier, do you even know what the play's about? …No. Look at you; can't you see? You don't even know what it's really about."
"Of course, I know what it's about," Hyunjae sneered. "It's about how academic pressure and miscommunication can ruin relationships—"
Ellie laughed, the sound mirthful, and yet carried an air of malice that made your skin crawl. This wasn't the Ellie you remembered… "That's funny, oh my god! You really don't know what it's about."
"What are you going on about?"
"I think you should ask her," she said with a smile. You peered around the tree, feeling utterly stupid like one of those characters from a teen drama eavesdropping on their lover and their nemesis. "Ask her, Hyunjae. I'm sure she'll tell you what it's really about when you mention that I told you she st—"
"Yn?"
Oh, for fuck's sake. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Jihyo's voice from behind you. You quickly grabbed her and dragged her down behind the tree trunk next to you. When she sent you a look that told you she thought you were completely deranged, you pressed a finger to your lips.
She indulged you, thank god, and followed your lead as you crept around the tree trunk again.
"It's cute that you have so much trust in her," was what you heard Ellie say next.
Jihyo squinted as she tried to identify the girl. "Who the fuck…?"
You kept your eyes glued to the pair before you, but muttered to Jihyo quickly, "That's Ellie. Old friend of mine from high school, but we drifted apart. Haven't talked to her since."
"She and Hyunjae are friends?"
"No, I have no clue what's going on." Yet, your stomach twisted and churned and you felt bile crawl up the length of your throat.
A muscle feathered in Hyunjae's jaw, but he couldn't seem to get himself to say something.
Ellie looked upon him pitifully. "One day, she'll drop you, too—when she finds someone better. That's what she did to me, y'know? I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories."
You saw red.
This time, Jihyo had to grab a fist full of your shirt and yank you down next to her to prevent you from clawing Ellie's vocal chords clean out of her throat. Because you would have.
Anything—you would've done anything to never see the flash of shame, hurt, and anger across Hyunjae's face when she said that. It was like she'd slapped him, clean and hard. Your chest ached as you watched his hand tighten into a fist at his side.
"You don't know anything about me," he said icily.
And it was over all too soon. Ellie said something to Hyunjae, but it was too quiet to hear. When Ellie left her own way, Hyunjae stalked off in a different direction, leaving you and Jihyo where the two of you remained hunched behind the tree.
You made to get up, but Jihyo pulled you back down again. "Ji, I have to go make sure he's okay—"
"I know you do," she told you firmly while keeping you seated down next to her. "But you're not in the right headspace, and neither is he. You need to breathe, especially after today and whatever the hell that was."
When you sent her a questionable look, she explained, "I bumped into Sana on my way to the performing arts center and she told me what happened. Then Younghoon told me you went on a walk and I just tracked your phone to here."
Your jaw dropped. "You tracked my—"
"Shhh," she shushed you, pressing a finger against your lips. "That's besides the point! Are you okay, Yn? For real."
You leaned back onto your palms, a frown coming up to your lips. "Everyone keeps asking me that lately."
"It's a valid question."
That was fair, you supposed. You released a sigh. "I mean… not really? I'm just stressed, and I don't even know what to think or how to comprehend what we just witnessed." Your brain was buzzing with every one of Ellie's biting words. What had she meant by all of that? She sounded so bitter, so malicious… What had happened?
Jihyo pressed her lips together, sitting down properly onto the grass. "What was that? Did you and Ellie end on bad terms?"
Your brows creased together and you absentmindedly scratched your jaw. "No," you murmured. "Not that I remember. It was just like we drifted apart over time. At least, that's how I remember it. I dunno."
You blew out another breath of air. Ellie and you had both been really good at what you did—theater, writing, all of the works. You two were a dynamic duo; if people now claimed you were a prodigy, then Ellie was your twin. In a way, you could probably say that your characters from the play you wrote almost mimicked yours and Ellie's creative abilities and technical prowess, but just in different spheres. While the love story was based upon you and Hyunjae, the foundation had been from you and Ellie.
But it eventually faded, that friendship. You figured that was just how things worked, as unfortunate as it was. You both moved on, and you found Hyunjae.
You relayed all of this to Jihyo, your friend listening to your words intently.
"—but I've never carried any ill will toward her," you reiterated at the end of your spiel. "I truly haven't heard from her since and she hasn't reached out either. I don't know what could have caused her to tell Hyunjae all of that."
Jihyo pressed her mouth to her knuckles as a thoughtful frown graced her porcelain features. "Hm, yeah. It's curious, for sure. What were they saying before I got here?"
You gnawed on your top lip. "She kept insisting that he didn't know what the play was really about and that he should ask me."
"Huh."
"I know right." You carded a hand through your hair. "I'm screwed."
"Only if he actually works up the guts to ask," she countered. "Though, I think you should beat him to it."
You cocked your head to the side in question. "What do you mean?"
She lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "Y'know—like you have to confront him about meeting with Ellie. You can't keep this from him; I know you."
Yeah, she was right. It would eat at you if you let that guilt swirl in your stomach. Plus, all of those things Ellie had said to him… you hoped he was okay. Dear god, you hoped he was okay.
(But the question now, you supposed, was who would bring it up first?)
EPISODE EIGHT: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT SHE'S THE BO-BO-BO-BOSS
FUNNY story: it took a week before you and Hyunjae could even have a proper conversation, in person.
With the quarter well underway, there was little to no time to stop and smell the flowers anymore. This had now become a race toward graduation, meaning that everyone was focused on their own problems. The “pranks” had dulled down, but they were, by no means, completely gone. There were always the occasional cord missing, or that dreaded creaking noise in the wings on late nights.
You’d grown used to it by this point, and so had your peers, luckily. The conversation between Ellie and Hyunjae sat in the back of your mind at all times. You always knew it was there, but you had so many things to worry about. Act two was just about wrapping up though, and so, play progress was chugging along well on schedule.
You really did have nothing to worry about—maybe it had all been jitters. Maybe it would all just finally go smoothly.
Friday night rehearsal was a little slower tonight since everyone had been here since noon. You’d all practically spent the entire day together, having lunch first, then diving into proper rehearsal. It had been a rehearsal full of laughs and a good time, and by the time Hyunjae stepped foot into the performing arts hall, you felt that you could take on anything. Even the conversation that needed to take place.
“Hey, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?” He said as the two of you stepped into the privacy of the sound booth, the tails of laughter still lingering in the air from the scene he had come into. You were currently rehearsing the directions of the first scene of act three, where Younghoon’s character was going through a full-on “groom-zilla” mode while Eunwoo’s character couldn’t stop talking about Sana’s character. It had been a full one-eighty character swap between the two friends.
You licked your lips, trying to press your smile down a little. “Oh, yeah. I was taking a walk, like, a week ago—and I saw you and Ellie talking.” You figured it would be better to just air it out right away; there was no need to beat around the bush. You lowered yourself onto the edge of one of the tables inside the booth, the air turning stuffy from the insulation inside the box. Crossing your arms loosely over your front, you watched as Hyunjae’s mood shifted, his body shuffling as he sought a comfortable position against the wall by the door.
Hyunjae cleared his throat, head ducking as his hand cupped the back of his neck. “Oh, really? You saw that?”
“I heard what she said to you—”
His head whipped up at that.
“—and I can’t believe she said that,” you said, those dagger-sharp words echoing in your mind from what Ellie had said to him about his own character. “Are you… are you okay?”
Hyunjae’s eyes widened a millimeter. “Am—am I okay?” He stammered.
“Yeah, I mean, she said that you were awful and it was…” You shook your head with a haggard sigh. “I’m sorry she said all that to you.”
“Thanks,” he exhaled, peering over at you through his eyelashes. He looked so small for once. “I—” He huffed air out from his nostrils, leaning his head back against the wall as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. “Is that all you heard though?”
No, I also heard her insist you ask me what the play is about. You blinked, your own voice seemingly trapped in your throat. Why couldn’t you just own up to it?
But he must have taken your silence as you saying that you hadn’t heard anything else, so he gathered his wits to ask you, “Yn, what’s the play really about?”
The breath left your lungs. “You know what it’s about, Jae. You were there while I wrote it.” Please don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it. Because a part of you knew that if he pushed, you would give. You would tell him because… how could you not? If he wanted you to be honest with him, then… oh god, would you really? Would you risk this little secret of yours and ruin a friendship? Either way—it could go either way.
His tongue darted out for a moment as he carded a hand through his hair; he took a couple steps toward you. “I know, Yn. But—Ellie kept on insisting that I ask you what the real idea behind the play is. And she—and she,” he laughed, the sound disbelieving, “she said that you stole the idea from her, which is crazy! I know it’s crazy, because I watched you labor over this thing for months.”
She what? All thoughts except for one left your brain at that moment: why in the world would Ellie tell Hyunjae that you stole the idea for Jasmine from her? You didn’t remember ever seeing this kind of work from her before. “I didn’t steal anything from her.”
“I know,” he replied again, placating you. He now stood right in front of you, but your eyes raced back and forth about a mile a minute as you mentally went through the things you remember ever writing with her. You couldn’t remember; you couldn’t think. Why would she say that? “So I just wanted to ask,” he said slowly, his words drawn out as he leaned down slightly so you would look him in the eyes, “what is the play really about? The real meaning.”
There were pros and cons to telling him. On the one hand, you could spew the same surface-level bullshit that you usually did, but you had a feeling that one wouldn’t work this time. On the other hand, you could tell him—the truth. That was the worst pill to swallow. It could end in utter catastrophe or it could end in your wildest dreams. But what if, when he didn’t feel the same about you, had to let you down easy and your friendship would never be the same ever again? You couldn’t bear losing him, you just couldn’t. You loved Hyunjae…
“Yn, you’re scaring me,” he said with an anxious laugh.
You met his eyes then. “You don’t trust me?” You blurted before you could stop yourself. Those words, that tone… it sounded to you like he really was starting to believe what Ellie told him.
Something flashed across his face, and he was racing to defend himself. “What? No, of course I trust you. I just—I just want to know what the real meaning behind the play was about; that’s all!” And if you can’t tell me, then what else am I supposed to believe? “Yn, come on, honey—please—”
“It’s about you.”
All breath left him. You saw the way one hundred and one emotions flickered through his eyes; all of thoughts racing about at once as he tried to comprehend. “What? I don’t—I don’t understand.”
You balled your hands into fists in front of you as the frustration suddenly bubbled to the surface. “I wrote it about us, Hyunjae,” you told him. “Alex is based on you, Kai is based on me. I’ve been in love with you since junior year of high school, and that is what the true premise of the play is about.” Your hands were shaking now, gesturing between the two of you in stiff, constrained motions like the feeling of your chest’s range of movements at this time.
You watched it dawn on him, watched him swallow—hard. “Yn, I’m sorry—”
“Jaehyun.”
He shut up immediately.
You pressed your fingers to the space between your eyes. For a second, you swore you could feel tears tickle the insides of your eyes, and you blinked them away, inhaling deeply to get your body to calm the fuck down. Why were you crying? There was no reason to be crying right now. “Can you—” you stumbled over your words for once, “—can you give me some space. I can’t… I can’t think.”
He obliged you, backing up a few steps, and you said fuck it. “Hyunjae, I need space. Please.”
You thought you saw hurt flash across his face, but you just wanted to be out of his eyesight. You couldn’t bear to feel those soft, sympathetic eyes on you. You couldn’t bear the weight of his “I’m sorry I don’t feel the same” right now.
“Okay,” he said, though barely audible.
It took a minute, but he left and you were finally able to suck in a large gulp of air. You strode out of the sound box and realized that everyone on stage was either looking your way, or had quickly turned their heads to pretend they hadn’t just seen that silent argument take place through the sound box window.
Your face and neck were on fire, but you swallowed your pride and returned to your rightful place in the middle aisles of the floor seats. You picked up your script from where you’d abandoned it by your bag. “Right,” you said, your voice shaky until you cleared your throat. (Your hands were definitely still a bit wobbly, but that wasn’t your greatest concern right now.) “Where were we? Scene one, right?”
Everyone slowly began making their way back to their original positions, but Younghoon walked up to the bottom stage and lowered his voice to say, “Yn, we can take a break if you need one. Take five, then reconvene.”
He probably knew what just went down in the sound box. Yet, you found yourself shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you assured him, un-reassuringly. “I can do this, Hoon.”
He frowned at you then—those damn, soulful eyes—but nodded, respecting your decision. Like everyone else, he returned to the original position his character was in at the top of the scene.
I’m sorry, his voice seemed to echo in your ears. A part of you ached at the thought of that stark hurt on his face, but you were hurting, too. Why would you send him away like that?
You blinked, your head clearing. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see it.”
— ✶
A few hours later, you finally had everyone wrap up for the night.
“Thanks for all your hard work today!” You exclaimed as the actors and techies began swarming the stage to put props away. You climbed up to the stage, too, jumping onto one of the backdrops that Younghoon was wheeling backstage to help him direct it through the heavy folds of the backdrop curtain.
Younghoon shot you a smile from the other side of the prop. “Well, Miss Director, nice work today.”
You returned the expression wholeheartedly. “Thanks, man. The same goes to you; I appreciate all your hard work today. And that idea for the wedding sequence was absolutely brilliant.”
He chuckled at that, and the two of you worked together to slot the prop onto the cart with the rest of the ones that were just like it. A couple of stagehands then moved the assembly line along and rolled the cart down the hall to lock up in one of the dressing rooms. “I like to think I’ve been to enough weddings at this point to know how to spice them up.”
“Ah, that’s right,” you mused along with him as the two of you began walking down the backstage corridor to where you knew his partner was hard at work with that miraculous fountain. “I remember something about yours and YH!Yn’s first proper outing being to your cousin’s wedding?”
Younghoon threw his head back with a hearty chuckle at that. “Your memory serves you correctly then,” he confirmed. “Well, it wasn’t our first proper outing together. Technically, we met at an outing—”
“What do you think they were arguing about? It looked like they broke up or something.”
The line caught you off guard, and your footsteps faltered. Younghoon gave you a confused look, eyebrow arched. Your ears strained to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in one of the open dressing rooms you just passed by.
“No way that they were dating! … okay, I guess that would make sense why she put up with him all the time,” a second voice scoffed. “Maybe she finally got tired of his bullshit and cut him off.”
“That would make sense as to why he got out of the theater so fast. I went to their high school, and even after Hyunjae left, the year above me still talked about him—”
Your hand slammed against the doorframe of the dressing room, effectively making the two stagehands inside jump in surprise. They gaped at you with wide eyes, lips parted in shock as you addressed them with a carefully-made blank expression. “Let’s not go sticking our noses where they aren’t appreciated, yeah? Worry about yourselves, thanks.”
The two bowed their heads, apologies crawling from their mouths, and you turned back into the hallway where Younghoon was waiting for you.
You resumed your walk down the hall, and your friend casted you a side-long glance. “Thanks for standing up for him like you do,” he said to you. “I don’t know what happened today, but…”
“It doesn’t matter what happened today,” you said to Younghoon with a small exhale. You gave him a smile, even though you knew it wasn’t convincing. “I’ll always stand up for him.”
“Even when he doesn’t deserve it?” Younghoon joked with a laugh.
Your smile curled a little wider. “Even when he doesn’t deserve it.” In reality, you knew that he deserved to have someone stand up for him. Whether that be you, or Younghoon, or even Jihoon—you knew that everyone deserved to have someone watch their back when they weren’t around. You might have pushed him away earlier this evening, but that would never stop you from continuing to protect him. It was simple, really; you loved him.
EPISODE NINE: ARE DRAMA MAJORS ALWAYS SO DRAMATIC? WAIT, DON’T ANSWER THAT.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have done this in the grocery store like you guys always do,” Hyunjae grumbled as sounds of livelihood raged all around him: pots and pans clanged to the sizzle of food on the stove, the TV played some random American murder mystery show on low volume, and Hyunjae was sandwiched in between two others on his and Younghoon’s apartment couch.
Chanhee, who sat on the other side of Juyeon (who was on one side of Hyunjae), snorted. His nose was in his phone as he scrolled through Instagram, but didn’t look up as he replied, “As if we’d let you into Grocery Aisle Therapy. That’s exclusive admission.”
“That’s true,” Jacob chimed in from Hyunjae’s other side, as the man spooned a generous helping of Frosted Flakes into his mouth, “I tried.”
“And if even Jacob was denied entry,” Sangyeon mused from the kitchen as he turned off the stove and hood range, carrying over a bowl of the fried rice he had made for himself. Haknyeon skipped behind him with his own bowl and his cheeks were already full of the delicious food. Eric and Sunwoo were swift to follow their friend’s lead and raced into the kitchen to get a helping for themselves.
Changmin made a face from where he sat on the floor below Chanhee and Younghoon. “Not for lack of trying. You should’ve seen JC!Yn try to resist his goo-goo eyes. Bleh,” he gagged.
“I admire her tenacity then,” Hyunjae sniffed. “Not everyone can resist Jacob.”
Jacob beamed.
Kevin narrowed his eyes at Changmin. He sat just a few spaces away from the glasses-wearing menace, but carefully cross-legged and cradling a bowl of popcorn in his hands. “You say that when you literally pined after your girlfriend like an angsty teenager for three years.” He feigned a face of contemplation, then added, “Oh wait, you actually are an angsty teen—aye! Dad, Changmin hit me!”
“I am so sick of this family,” Sangyeon mumbled under his breath as he collapsed into the armchair adjacent to the sofa-sectional everyone else flocked upon. “Enough, both of you. Why were we all called here, again?”
Eric slid back into the living room on the polished wood floors in his socks, then perched atop the arm of Sangyeon’s armchair as he feasted upon his bowl of fried rice. He carefully lowered each spoonful of rice into his mouth so he wouldn’t dirty the fluffy cardigan he now wore. "Hyung's in trouble with his lady lover."
“Lady lover?” Sunwoo echoed with his face scrunched up like he just ate something sour. He had taken the spot between Kevin and Changmin to hopefully stop one from kicking the other again (hopefully).
"You're so judgmental."
"And you're—"
Sangyeon massaged the migraine pulsing in his temples away furiously with a clear grimace. "Shush, children. What did you do this time, Hyunjae?"
Hyunjae's jaw dropped, an image akin to one particular Pikachu meme. "Why am I immediately assumed to be the one at fault?"
"You summoned us all here," Haknyeon said with a shrug. "And Younghoon hyung said that it looked like you and Yn-ie suffered a break up in front of the entire main cast of Jasmine."
Hyunjae threw a displeased glance Younghoon's way; the tall man grinned sheepishly as if saying "what was I supposed to do—lie?" Hyunjae stared down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers and the watch on his wrist. "It wasn't a break up…"
Kevin made a disapproving noise. "Oh, we know."
Hyunjae glared down at the top of Kevin's head. "Rude."
"Okay, so explain what happened," Juyeon prompted.
The man in question sucked in a breath. Where to begin? Someone muted the TV, so Hyunjae and Younghoon's apartment descended into a coat of silence. Everyone waited for Hyunjae's response.
Hyunjae decided that there was only one logical way to start. He began when he first received a text message from the elusive 'Ellie', your supposed best friend before him. He couldn't believe you had a soulmate other than him, but it only mattered that you two had found each other—not that that mattered—
He went through the entire spiel: Ellie had texted him about some project they worked on together in senior year of high school. He hadn't known why she would even care about something dumb they'd done in high school especially when she was a fourth year in college like the rest of you. But she had asked politely and he wasn't one to just dismiss someone when it was a simple, innocent request. However, when he had finished with this little task, he should have stopped there.
Their conversations eventually escalated from innocent "oh, you remember when…" to "if we meet, you have to agree to hear my side of the argument." He remembered her exact words: "You'll be very shocked to hear the truth" regarding your business with the play. He wanted to look out for you like you always did for him (and screw it, he was curious), so he obliged Ellie and met with her.
That had been one of many mistakes he made. The biggest mistake was what went down at the theater a couple of days ago. And now? He had just made you confess to him, he had broken your trust, and he didn't know how he was going to make it up to you.
(He had to admit though, that once he finally got space to think about what you said to him, there was something about the prospect of you being in love with him that gave his heart a lively kick-start—)
Chanhee reached over Juyeon's head and swatted Hyunjae's neck like there was a very large mosquito there. "You dumbass!"
Hyunjae yelped, his hand reaching up to rub the aching place furiously. "Ow!"
"Deserved," Kevin sang as he tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "That was super not cool, man."
"You don't think I know that?" He rolled his eyes.
"Yes," everyone chorused together.
Cue his next set of eye rolls.
"Hyung," said Sunwoo as he shifted so he faced Hyunjae. His eyes squinted up at him, his curly bangs falling into his pupils as they usually did. "How could you not see that she was in love with you? You have to be blinder than a bat."
"You've been hanging out with SW!Yn too much," Changmin teased.
"Hey, don't bring her into this and taint her good name! Even she saw how perfectly enraptured Yn-ie is."
Changmin opened his mouth to make another unnecessary comment, but Sunwoo slapped a palm over his friend's mouth.
"I guess that leaves one question," said Juyeon, finally, after a long stretch of his silence.
"And what's that, Juyeonie?" Sangyeon asked.
Juyeon pursed his lips together in a slight pout. "What else? Are you in love with Yn, too, Hyunjae?"
Oh—
Hyunjae's thoughts careened to a stop when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He maneuvered around on the couch cushion to retrieve the device, his heart pounding in anticipation—but that emotion was immediately swapped out with utter disdain.
His friends observed this flip with great interest. "Who—"
An indignant spark lit Hyunjae's dark irises as he furiously typed something to the sender and promptly blocked the number.
Jacob and Juyeon, who were able to peer over at Hyunjae's phone screen, both widened their eyes in scandal. Jacob grinned, lifting his hand to delicately hide his snickers. "Well that answers our question."
Hyunjae sulked, swiping through his contacts, then blocking Ellie's number, too. He should have done that so damn long ago.
"It was some guy asking if he knew if Yn was free in two weeks—"
"And she's not," Hyunjae grunted, shoving his phone back into his pocket, then standing up to go get Sangyeon's fried rice in the kitchen. "These fucking guys, man. Like, what the fuck am I gonna do? Hype you up to her? No way in hell—" He scoffed, slapping a spatula of rice into his bowl with a strength that the bowl, rice, and utensil didn't deserve.
He couldn't believe that one stupid, little thing the two of you had done in freshman year of college had led to this spam of dudes flooding his inbox for you. If he had half a mind, he would declare that you weren't on the market anymore and that you weren't even interested in seeing any… body…
The thought marinated in his head for a moment as he slowly chewed the fried rice. Why did he want you "off the market"? You were his best friend, but you weren't his to covet or shield or speak for. You weren't his.
You weren't… his.
"Oh my god, you can actually see the neurons firing in his brain for once."
Hyunjae plopped himself back into his original place on the couch. "I hate you guys."
"So you've realized that you're in love with her?" Younghoon asked exasperatedly, his hands splayed out on his legs like he was begging to the cosmos.
Hyunjae made a face and pretended that his heart wasn't palpitating and that a drop of sweat wasn't dripping down the back of his neck right now. "What? Of course not," he said through a mouthful of fried rice.
One could hear the collective exhale of disappointment all the way to your townhouse.
— ✶
It was Thursday evening when you found yourself walking out of the performing arts hall after yet another rehearsal, and coming face to face with the person who had become one of your greatest problems over the past month.
Your hand stopped in midair from which you were brushing the hair out of your face when you and a young woman made eye contact. She was seated on one of the benches facing the entryway of the performing arts hall, her attention lifting away from her phone and to you. The sky remained alight and streaked in its dazzling sunset colors, and yet, the sight of her made everything feel grayed.
She smiled at you. "Ah, you're done."
Something crawled beneath the surface of your skin. For a second, you thought it was disgust, but upon further thought, it was really something bittersweet. You swallowed, adjusting your hold on your bag strap. "Can I help you?"
"Do you remember me, Yn?"
"Of course, I do, Ellie." How could I forget you?
Ellie's smile shuddered and you suddenly couldn't read her face. It was strange seeing her four years into the future. You remembered catching glimpses of her in the hallways, her sweet smile and button nose, the freckles sprinkled across her cheekbones like kisses from the sun. "I guess that's one thing out of the way."
Her biting words to Hyunjae appeared in the forefront of your mind. "What you said to Hyunjae—"
"Was true," she cut in. "And based on the fact that he blocked me a few days ago, I'm guessing that something happened between you two." Her lips curled upward, "How does it feel to know he actually doubted you? If I'm being honest, it makes me fucking sing, Yn!" There was a shiver-inducing giddiness to her voice and you wondered if this was all a joke. It would be a cruel joke, but anything would be better than this.
Could she see the horror on your face? "Ellie, we were friends," you managed to say.
She pressed her lips together. "We were friends until you decided that we weren't."
"What are you talking about?" You threw back at her. "We drifted apart—"
"You abandoned me," she quipped. The smile was gone now, her mouth set into a taut line. "You left me to rot."
Your heart dropped into your stomach. About a million things flashed through your mind, but most of all, you came to a very fast epiphany: you'd always thought she was happy. "Ellie," you said, slowly, softly, "I'm sorry that you felt that way. Really, I am so sorry."
"I've made sure you feel that way."
"But you should have left Hyunjae out of this."
Ellie laughed and the sound was harsh. "This isn't about your stupid best friend, or whatever. This is about you and me. I can't believe you thought—how could you prefer him over me? Why did you stop talking to me, Yn?"
You were so confused. All this time, you had thought that yours and Ellie's friendship ended on a mutually neutral ground. You thought that you had just drifted away from one another from the eventuality of time. Was that not how she saw it this entire time?
The end of Ellie's question took on a raspy undertone, the gleam in her eyes less so that of anger, but the melancholy underneath. You wanted to make things right, but you didn't know what that was.
When you had yet to say anything except for letting the breeze waft past your face, she let out a scoff. It was a somewhat embarrassed sound, her eyes skittish. "You know that my parents always compared me to you. Constantly. You remember what you said to me?"
You swallowed. "'They can compare all they want, but you'll always be enough for me.'"
"I didn't want to bother you when we 'drifted apart', as you say," she continued on with a huff. "And then I saw you and Hyunjae, and the way you looked at him—god, I knew right away, Yn. And I was so bitter. Just so, so bitter." She shook her head. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."
Dear god, you hadn't known this whole time. You'd wished you had known. You didn't know what you might have done differently—maybe not have been so blind—but… what if you couldn't have saved that friendship? Was this always meant to happen in the grand scheme of the universe's stage?
You made your way toward her and she simply watched as you stopped a handful of paces away from her. “I didn’t mean to drift away from you or to make you feel like I was replacing you in any way.” For a moment, you were quiet, and you inhaled a deep breath to query, "What made you suddenly want to confront me after so long then?"
She peered up at you, a mixture of sadness and something sharper in the reflection of her irises. "You didn't have to keep getting better and showing off. I just got sick of living in your shadow when you weren't even there."
You bristled at that. “What else could I have done? I’m sorry you felt that way, really, but I had a lot of pressure on my shoulders, too. I wanted them to stop expecting more from me, but each time I did something right, they kept pushing for more. And I—”
“I just wanted my friend back!” She exclaimed.
The words died on your tongue, dissipating in the tense air between you two. The fight left you then, seeing the hard break in her expression, a sliver of the girl you remembered from so long ago. What happened to her? She’d been poisoned by whatever feelings were locked inside her, and you supposed that it was only inevitable that those same feelings would one day be unleashed. You wished she didn’t have to confront you this way. "So you thought lying to Hyunjae would have done the trick?" You finally murmured.
"You didn't figure out who's been messing around with your production all quarter?"
The question caught you off guard, but you were quick to catch on nonetheless. Your breath hitched as you stood there, stunned. "That was you?"
A nod.
"All of it?" Disbelief struck you clean across the face and you felt like you'd just been slapped. A new level of anger boiled in your blood; all of those nights you spent creeped out of your mind, the extra stress from all the superstitious bullshit—
"This is our last act," she said, her tongue darting out for a moment. "I don't want anything else from you after this."
You couldn’t believe she would go through all of this trouble—all for what? All to prove what? It was utterly childish, preposterous, dramatic. “Good,” you asserted, as firmly as you could muster, “I don’t want anything from you either.”
And there was a split-second where you saw a crack in her expression, truly. Before, when you’d seen that bit of melancholy seep through, it must have been purposeful. Perhaps it was to draw some kind of sympathy or guilt from you, but after she admitted to doing all of that crap to you and your peers, you weren’t about to lean into that, old friend be damned. Of course you felt bad that she had felt like that for so long. You pitied her. But it didn’t mean you had to forgive her; not for this.
Maybe this was it though: all she wanted from you was for you to feel as helpless as she had, but you simply couldn’t feel that way. All that you could feel was cold fury.
“Fine,” she cleared her throat, straightening. “I hope you learned your lesson.”
You let out a scoff, the sound making her eyelids shudder. Your teeth grated against each other as you closed yours and her “final act”: “And I hope you’ve learned yours. I hope I never see you again.”
You turned brusquely on your heel to walk away before you did anything rash. But a sudden thought appeared on the tip of your tongue, and you found yourself stopping. When you glanced back at her, she was watching you leave with an emotion you couldn’t quite detect. The two of you had been such good friends, and… you really wished you could understand her position better. “I just don’t understand why you went through all this trouble. If you had just—texted me, called me—” You made a gesture with your hand then let the limb fall limply to your side, “You could’ve just said hi.”
You left her behind after that, purposefully this time. Did people like Ellie deserve their chance at redemption? Maybe when the dust had settled, but for now, you hoped she received her due karma.
EPISODE TEN: GOOGLE, DEFINE DRAMATIC IRONY.
THEY said that a terrible dress rehearsal marked a production for a brilliant opening night. As Michael, the wine salesman dude, forgot his fifth line of the rehearsal; as the tech staff in the box forgot their second lighting cue of the night; and as Hongjoong continued to have to fuss over San’s Uncle™ beard for the third time, you were trying very hard to keep that saying in mind.
Weeks had passed—you didn’t know how many, maybe five, maybe two, maybe an entire year—but that entire time, you didn’t feel Ellie’s presence haunting you anymore, nor had you heard from Hyunjae yet. He was busy with his architectural capstone project, anyway, and you felt that you both needed to take this time to yourselves to focus on more important things. (You thought this as if your friendship with him didn’t mean the absolute fucking world, but you were pretty sure you were seconds away from setting this building on fire so—)
The dreaded Tech Week had descended upon the cast and crew of Jasmine. Not only that, but it was also Finals Week, meaning everyone in this room was just as stressed out as they usually were, except, five times more. It made for a great rehearsal, clearly.
“—remember that as soon as she says ‘fine!’, you have to be out here to pull the rug out from beneath her feet,” you instructed the stagehand, who looked a millisecond away from passing out right there on the stage.
When they nodded their understanding, you turned away with a migraine pounding away at your temples. You just had to get through one more act, and you could call it a night. Opening night was literally in four days, and you were trying not to yearn after your best friend and feel guilty about pushing him away—and then there was the guilt that had slowly bubbled up over the past few weeks from what happened with Ellie. Maybe it had been all your fault—
“Yn, your eye is twitching.”
“Huh?” You perked up from where you were seemingly glaring a hole in the ground of the nosebleeds. Younghoon shot you an amused, yet mildly concerned look from within the winds of the stage. “Oh, sorry. Can we take it from the top of act three, please? One more act, people; let’s hang in there.”
That latter bit was more for you.
By the end of rehearsal, everyone was just as happy as you were to head home. Today was Monday, the beginning of the week, and yet you wished it was Saturday already—graduation. Now that was the light at the end of the tunnel.
Younghoon held the door open for you as the two of you exited out the front doors of the performing arts hall. When you murmured a thank you to him, he fell into step with you easily. The walk to the bus station seemed impossibly long with the ache in your legs.
Younghoon released a low-sounding whistle. “So…”
“Hm?”
“Are you coming to Cobie’s surprise birthday party tomorrow? I know it’s finals week and tech week, but it’d be nice to have that little break beforehand.”
Oh, right. Hyunjae’s friend Jacob was having his birthday party—well, it wasn’t him who was hosting, but his girlfriend. She had organized all of it, and had even had the good will to extend an invitation to you. At the time, you couldn’t find it in you to say no, despite the knowledge of your busy month at the forefront of your mind. But even now, you found it hard to really formulate a concrete response. The uneasiness was creeping up on you again.
“I dunno, Hoon…” you said lowly with a wince. “Maybe I should just catch up on sleep, y’know? And plus, I don’t want my feelings for Hyunjae to ruin the mood or anything. I’m kind of a Debby Downer right now,” you laughed pitifully.
Younghoon’s mouth curved into a frown. “Yn, you’re not a downer. You’re stressed and you have a lot of burden on your shoulders, but… I think something carefree will be good for you, no? Maybe you should at least stop by and say hello to people—take advantage of Hyunjae having to be in charge of providing free booze for everyone.”
You glanced up at him, meeting his kind eyes. “I’ll think about it,” you promised. You were probably too tired to think logically about going anywhere else but your bed at this moment.
Younghoon nodded. “Okay.”
As the two of you carried on down the stairs now, the bus stop in sight, you gathered your wits about you. “How is… how is he, by the way?” You asked.
Younghoon peered at you with something akin to gentleness and sympathy. “He’s… I think he’s okay.” He squinted one eye as he looked up toward the night sky, the thoughts meandering about his head. “You just have to give him some time. You know how stubborn he is,” he joked.
You could only give a shallow nod at that.
Not one to let a friend leave him so upset, he nudged you with the back of his hand. “Hey, don’t worry too much about him, okay? You have a lot on your plate right now, and you deserve to have your head in the game, okay? It’s all gonna be okay.”
“You always have such a way with words,” you laughed lightly as you wiped a tear from your eye—whether it was from emotions or just being plain exhausted, you couldn’t tell.
He smiled again then. “If I wrote down these words, I’d be stealing your job, Miss Director.”
Your laugh was a little brighter at that note. “Okay, Actor Extraordinaire. We’ll see about that.”
The two of you shared a laugh, and when you reached the bus stop, Younghoon waited until the bus came by to pick you up. It wasn’t yet deep night, but he was a gentleman all the same. You climbed up into the bus, scanning your transportation card as you went, then sat by a window to wave to Younghoon.
When the bus pulled away from the curb and away into the night, Younghoon pulled out his phone to the text chain with his partner. He’d come to a decision then, and as hungry as he was, he figured he could channel this annoyance into confronting one certain man by the name of Lee Jaehyun.
younghoon’s phone: love, i think i’m going to be late for dinner
beloved mastermind: i’ll save u a seat &lt;;3
— ✶
The lights beneath the swimming pool glowed an ethereal shade of fluorescent blue. It reminded Younghoon of a mermaid's cove with the way the light waves reflected off the ceilings of the building to create scales on the rafters. The emptiness of the indoor swimming pool was offset by the thrashing of flesh against water as a lone swimmer stole lap after lap across the great blue.
Younghoon lowered himself onto a steel bleacher and watched Hyunjae bolt from one end of the pool to the next, hardly taking the time to breathe air, like he breathed chlorine and water instead. The familiarity of the smell—warm stone, pungent chemicals—sent flashes of Younghoon's own days on the high school swim team to his mind.
At last, Hyunjae took his final lap, his breathing coming out labored as he swept a hand up his face and through his hair. His locks slicked all the way back, and his chest rose and fell harshly as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his lungs fought to consume oxygen without asphyxiating on it.
Hyunjae clambered his elbows onto the deck. "How'd you—know I was here?" He managed to say, nodding his thanks as Younghoon handed him the water bottle at the other end of the bench from him where Hyunjae's duffle bag sat.
Younghoon gave a meager shoulder shrug. "I know you too well not to," he said. The two were both swimmers, and where else would swimmers go to put their head somewhere else and to escape the world?
Hyunjae couldn't argue with that.
The two friends were quiet for a minute as Younghoon let Hyunjae catch his breath. There was something troubling about seeing him so tense, even after pumping out so many laps. The exhaustion didn't seem to outweigh the conflict warring in his mind.
Finally— "Hyunjae-ah, what are you doing?"
Hyunjae blinked up at him, perplexed. "Huh?"
Younghoon leaned his cheek against his palm, elbow resting on top of his knee. He fixed him with a stare. "What are you doing?" He repeated.
This time, the message seemed to have been delivered successfully. Hyunjae licked his lips, his gaze averting away from Younghoon. "Did you come here just to scold me?"
"No, I came here to tell you you're being an angsty teen."
Hyunjae scowled, his lips pressed into a pout. "No, I'm not."
Younghoon rolled his eyes just as his stomach grumbled in protest at him not going straight to meet his partner for dinner. Instead, here he was, trying to talk sense to a wall. "You're so childish sometimes."
He quieted. Hyunjae leaned his head against the meat of his forearm, eyes fluttering closed against the warmth of the heated pool deck. "How is she?"
"She's not good, but she's also not bad," Younghoon replied. He sighed, leaning forward onto his forearms for a more comfortable confrontation position. His lips pulled into a line. "Stressed, of course, but I think that was a given."
Hyunjae rubbed his eyes. "I fucked up, Younghoon."
A solemn nod. "I'm glad you see it now."
"This isn't a joke."
"I'm not saying it's a joke."
Hyunjae squinted at him. "Sometimes I don't believe you."
Younghoon smiled cheekily. "Well, sometimes you have to pick who and what to believe."
That hit a nerve, even if Younghoon didn't mean it to. Hyunjae immediately thought of yours and his last conversation. He couldn't get the image out of his head of the look of betrayal on your face when you asked him if he didn't trust you. He'd been stupid to be so curious, but of course he trusted you. He'd always trusted you. Who else could he trust but the very person who always protected him and was by his side? So why did he have to go and be so stupid?
He backed away from the wall for a minute and simply stood in the middle of the shallow lane as if the water could give him wisdom. "I," he began, then sighed, "I miss her a lot. I've wanted to text her, to call her so many times." He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I think I just don't know what I would say."
"An apology would be a good start," suggested Younghoon.
"Right…" That was obvious, and yet, it was always the most difficult step. Would you let him come back into your life after a reveal like that? Feelings were such fragile, fickle things.
His heart sank at the idea of losing you forever though.
One day, she'll drop you, too, those damned words replayed over and over in his head like a broken record. —When she finds someone better… I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories.
Once upon a time, Hyunjae hadn't always been "awful" or dogged down by other people's negative testimonials about his attitude. So what if he had been "scorned by love" as you so lovingly put it one time? That experience had been enough for him to shut down all access points, keeping you sheltered in with him. It was hard for him to think of wanting to be with anyone else… but you.
He didn't mean to latch onto you so tight, but perhaps he had grown so dependent on you all this time. You had never given him reason to doubt how much you cared—god, why had he been so stupid?
Younghoon watched Hyunjae's inner conflict through the windows to his soul, glowing with the cerulean blue of the chemically altered pool water. "Hyunjae, do you love her?"
Of course he loved you. That was out of the question. But this was a different type of love that Younghoon was referring to, and it called for something much larger in the grand scheme of things.
That kind of love—what a frightening prospect, he thought. But didn't you make everything so much less frightening?
EPISODE ELEVEN: PLACES, EVERYONE!
"YOU stole my boyfriend, by the way." Hyunjae huffed as he set down the last two grocery bags he had helped bring up to the apartment from Juyeon's car.
JC!Yn barely batted an eyelash at him as she swept past to organize the utensils and cups set out on the breakfast table. “You snooze, you lose, Lee,” she teased with a sing-song tone.
From the front door, Sangyeon bumbled in with a clean, crisp white box, as he whistled a happy tune under his breath. JC!Yn greeted him at the entryway, thanking him profusely for picking up the cake, then taking the box from him so she could transfer it to the fridge for safe keeping.
“Chanhee says that he’s bringing his best friend, so he wants everyone to—I quote—‘not be embarrassing’,” Changmin snorted and giggled loudly from the couch where he relayed the information from his texts with Chanhee.
“That’ll be difficult for you,” CM!Yn quipped back so fast that Hyunjae couldn’t even suppress the high-pitched laugh he let out. Not that he wanted to suppress it; he had to admit that Changmin’s girlfriend was just as much a menace as her boyfriend was.
As Changmin’s jaw dropped and he pounced on top of her to tickle her into submission, Hyunjae averted his gaze elsewhere. He pulled his phone out, leaning against the granite kitchen countertop while he read Younghoon’s latest text notifications.
bread face: we’ll be there soon
bread face: i think i saw kevin and jacob a few cars behind us at the intersection, so i’m making haknyeon step on it
hyunjae’s phone: lol i was gonna chastise u about texting and driving hoon
bread face: tch pls, i’m better than that 🙄
bread face: i would at least make yh!yn do my texts for me 🤪
Hyunjae glanced up just in time to see JC!Yn’s front door open to reveal Chanhee and Eric, along with their plus ones. He tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking offhandedly at the fact that so many of his friends had found people to be with. It felt like they were all growing up far too fast; even as a fourth-year in university, it was unimaginable. Where would they all be in ten years? Where would he be?
He hoped, at the very least, that he might see you in his future—one way or another. As long as he could pull his shit together and finally talk to you.
hyunjae’s phone: almost everyone’s here btw r u guys close??
bread face: yeah, pulling up one block over so they don’t see hak’s car
bread face: hey, do yk if yn’s coming today?
Hyunjae’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, then he typed in the clear answer: no, not a clue. I have a feeling she won’t be here though.
He tucked his phone away, looking over to see that JC!Yn’s roommate, Kei, had just stepped out of her room with a finished “Happy Birthday, Jacob” banner. “Hey, you need help with that?”
— ✶
The party was well under way, and suffice to say, the surprise party had been an entire success. Because Jacob was definitely not a fan of being jumpscared, it was good foresight that everyone was just in sight when he and Kevin opened the door. He had no clue that his partner had organized this for everyone and that everyone else was in on it. (Even Eric was able to keep the secret in the wraps, no doubt with the help of his significant other.) Almost all of his friends had brought along a plus-one, minus the singletons (himself, Juyeon, Kevin, and Sangyeon—though, that was still debatable) and Haknyeon and Sunwoo who’s significant others weren’t too close with the group just yet. It was a marvel that Younghoon’s girlfriend decided to come, too, but she said she would probably leave early anyway.
“You’re so sad-looking,” said Juyeon as he hopped onto the island counter next to Hyunjae. The two of them could scope out the whole apartment from this vantage point; the mood seemed to be at an all-time high, despite it being an incredibly stressful week for everyone.
Hyunjae made an indignant noise and he lifted his plastic cup of soda to his lips. “Pfft. I’m not sad-looking.”
Juyeon gave a meager shrug. “Every time you see someone and their partner, you look like your puppy just got taken.”
“That’s—” he stammered in protest, “—that’s not true. I—I just keep thinking about my arch capstone, that’s all! School is ruining my life.” The lie was so stark that even Hyunje winced to himself.
“Ah, well, I can relate to that,” his friend sighed. The two gazed out at the party, their ears perking up when they heard Sangyeon say something about him and Jacob needing to step outside for Jacob’s birthday gift—whatever that meant. Hyunjae and Juyeon exchanged strange looks with one another, before bursting into laughter.
Not even a few minutes had passed before Jacob and Sangyeon walked back into the apartment with everyone’s curiosity piqued. Jacob had on the best poker face that he could muster, his lips pressed together but a muscle in the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he was either trying not to laugh or smile.
“Well?” Kevin was the first to voice. He, along with everyone else over at the couch, leaned over the back of the furniture, their eyes wide like dogs waiting for a treat. Hyunjae and Juyeon probably looked similar from their perches.
“He asked for proof of my girlfriend,” Sangyeon said as he closed the front door behind him.
Hyunjae snorted, catching a slight glare from the eldest in the room. For however long, their friend group had an ongoing inside joke that Sangyeon pretended to have a “secret girlfriend.” It was only because Sangyeon had never once provided concrete proof, and maybe it was because he purposefully withheld it, but Hyunjae simply couldn’t understand why. Thus, the hilarious teasing of their eldest friend. Nonetheless, Hyunjae and everyone else remained curious as to the truth.
“Well then?” Juyeon pressed, “What’s the verdict, Cobie?”
The smile on his face really couldn’t be suppressed anymore, and it looked so close to a smirk. Jacob grinned, strolling over to the couch to resume his place between his best friend and girlfriend. “No comment.”
The room erupted into a loud groan from seemingly everyone. “What kind of answer—”
Even Sangyeon looked frustrated and his eyebrows furrowed together, paired with a slight parting of his lips. “Birthday Boy has so much audacity today. Dude, I literally showed you—”
At the sound of the doorbell tone, everyone paused. Hyunjae hopped off the counter, chirping, “I’ll get it!”
No one was opposed to Hyunjae opening the door as everyone else engaged in a battle of wits commenting on Jacob's refusal to confirm nor deny the existence of a future Mrs. Lee Sangyeon. Hyunjae reached the front door and peered through the peephole curiously—then stiffened.
You stood on the other side, your hands fidgety as you played around with the little gift bag in your hands, no doubt for Jacob.
He could hardly believe his eyes—you actually came.
He opened the door without much else left to do. Your gazes clashed in the front threshold of JC!Yn's apartment, your breaths leaving your lungs at the sight of the other. Hyunjae swallowed; he hated this tension, hated the way he couldn't just wind his arms around you as easily as he had done before. The palpitations of his heart were teetering on dangerous territory, and he chalked it up to the fact that he was nervous he might be making you uncomfortable.
"Hey, come in," he murmured low but soft, stepping aside to give you space. He barely registered the background noise at this point.
"Thanks," you said back, your voice barely audible. You stepped out of your shoes and nudged them toward the massive pile by the shoe rack, like an ocean of footwear wherein one must play a matching game in order to leave. You coughed, "Uhm, is there a place where I can put this?" You lifted your gift bag half-heartedly.
"Oh, I can put it—" he automatically reached out for it, and when his fingers grazed against yours, the two of you jolted, "—away," he stammered. You let go of it so he could quickly grab hold and make his very awkward escape.
He dipped into JC!Yn's room where all the presents were being stashed, allowing himself to soak in a bit of quiet, even if he could still hear the muffled party just outside the room. That had to be the worst thing ever. Why was he so jumpy around you? It couldn't be that you professed your being in love with him, right? He wished it wasn't like this.
He needed to talk to you, damn it, he needed to fix this—
But when he emerged from the room and into the main living space, he saw you chatting with YH!Yn and Kevin and Changmin. He watched you smile at them and laugh and look way less awkward than you'd been with him just a minute ago. He remembered what this week was, what Friday was.
Opening night: the culmination of months' worth of blood, sweat, and tears.
He'd been there for you since the beginning of it. He couldn't see you fail, and this was the first time he'd seen you not stressed. He didn't have the heart to ruin that for you right now.
So instead of marching up to you and requesting an audience, he made his way over to a few of his other friends to join whatever conversation they were having. He would fix things when you didn't have five thousand other things to worry about. Today wasn't about him, after all.
EPISODE TWELVE: CALL TIME, BABY!
TONIGHT was the night. You thought you were going to throw up, to be honest, and you gently sipped on an iced caramel macchiato to keep your energy up. Perhaps the caffeine was making you just a little jittery, but it was probably the nerves—
"Yn!"
"Yeah, what's up?" You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and just barely dodging the pair of stagehands hustling a backdrop past you.
Jihoon gestured wide with his arms. "Where are you going? Preshow's in seven minutes."
Oh, right. Your eyes widened in incredulity at your absentmindedness and practically jogged over to Jihoon and the other end of the corridor that led back toward backstage, instead of wherever the fuck you were off to… "Sorry," you muttered, waving vaguely to your head, "dunno what's up with me right now. Is everyone ready? Everything in place?"
He nodded, his eyes leaving you for a second while someone said something to him in his headset. "Ugh, shit. We can't find SW!Yn—ever since she got that boyfriend of hers—"
Your hands flapped between the two of you as you nodded your head vigorously—yeah, it was definitely the caffeine. "She's probably in the sound booth with Chan and the others. She's not that boy crazy."
Jihoon made an unconvinced expression, but bid you farewell nonetheless. He probably knew more than you did, but that was expected since you weren't exactly a long-term staff member working backstage. Jihoon ran a tight ship; there was no way anyone would risk a Jihoon stare by saying hi to their significant other.
You held your head in your hand and set your drink down on one of the stools by the edge of the room so it wouldn't get knocked over. Tonight was Opening Night—the night. Tonight, there was a full house, including your friends and family, everyone at school, and about a dozen or so industry experts. The latter weren't just here for you, but for your acting peers, as well. This was a critical night for everyone. It absolutely had to go right.
You shifted the headset on top of your head and made your way back down the corridor. You were far too antsy to just stay in one spot.
"—can one of you go check Jess's hair and makeup—no, don't just rip it, hon, that's not how it works!" You recognized that anguished cry anywhere, and you peered into the dressing room Hongjoong and a swarm of other busy people were.
"What's going on?" You asked.
Hongjoong's head whipped around so fast you were surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Yn, thank God! You know how to braid?"
"Jess still needs hair and makeup?"
"Yes, one of my people had to call out sick—thanks Yn-ie!" You were already on your way to find where Jess was before he had finished his sentence. You'd hardly even processed the fact that one of the costume staff had to call out sick—that wasn't your main concern right now—you literally had less than five minutes to locate Jess and yeet yourself backstage.
The sound in your headset sparked to life. "Sound to Yn, Yn to sound. Can you hear me?" Bang Chan's voice echoed into your ears.
You narrowly got beheaded by a portion of the wedding arch coming down the hallway. "Loud and clear; fuck, it's a mess back here, Chan." God, your head hurt and the play hadn't even begun yet.
"Hey, man. Take a little breath, okay? Yeah, there you go."
You sucked in a very large breath of air. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins and your hands suddenly felt very cold. "Hyunjae usually helped me through opening nights," you exhaled, your head swerving left and right as you checked each room for Jess's presence. "Where is she?"
"I know, Yn," he said gently. "You can do this though. I know you can. You've been waiting for this for four years—hell, even longer than that."
Your head bobbed up and down as if he could see you—oh shit, was that her you just saw?
"He's probably sitting in one of those velvet seats, absolutely pumped for you."
"Even though I completely fucked up our friendship?" You choked out, flagging Jess down. The poor girl looked frantic as she was trying to finish her stage makeup while also braiding her hair. There was no way she could do both, but you admired the attempt. You began to help her out with her hair as she used her phone as a mirror.
"I don't know what happened, Yn, but he loves you too much to not be here tonight."
It was suddenly very difficult to swallow.
"Preshow in two. Are you ready for this, Director Ln?"
You finished the braid, snapping the elastic with a crisp thwip. Tapping Jess to let her know she was good to go, you made an immediate reverse maneuver to backstage. You took a deep breath in once more—held it—
Get your head in the game. Chan was right—you'd been waiting for this for far too long, worked far too hard. You needed to put faith in your abilities and your peers. "Let's do this."
When you returned to the main backstage portion, you found techies ready to go, as well as your main cast. You caught Younghoon's eyes, silently asking for him to round up Eunwoo while you got Sana and Miyeon. Quickly, the five of you met in the middle.
"Everyone feeling okay?" You asked them, making eye contact with each and every one of them.
There was a buzz about the air, both nervous and excited. You could feel it in the way your hands shook, but you reminded yourself this was what you lived for. Someone, probably Chan, gave you the one minute warning.
"We're gonna do great out there," Younghoon affirmed.
"And when in doubt," Miyeon chimed in, "just improvise."
A small chuckle rang out, and you could hear the countdown in your ear. You had to go out on stage and greet everyone.
"Okay, I got my cue," you said to them. "Break a leg, everyone. Chins up, alright?"
"You too, Yn," Younghoon said to you with a pointed look.
A smile graced your face then, and something settled within your chest—finally—something like a calm. "I will."
— ✶
The only reason why Hyunjae knew how expensive flowers were was because he was well-versed in the nature of presenting you with them after each production you'd completed, whether that be through theater or film. It was all standard practice, and he couldn't believe Sunwoo had the audacity to argue with him and his girlfriend about when to send flowers backstage.
Flowers were to be withheld from reaching the actor, staff, or director until the end of the performance. It was just one of those other superstitious things.
So here he was, sitting shoulder to shoulder between Juyeon and a stranger, with a lap full of vibrant blooms in what he thought were the best seats in the house: the lower balcony seats. They were probably his favorite place to get a proper view of the stage while also not being as high as the top balcony and seeing the top of actors' heads. Maybe it was the child in him that liked anything concerning the balcony.
The play had been going strong for the entire run time. You had come out on stage at the very beginning to welcome everyone and thank them for coming tonight. All the relevant information about the play could be found in the playbills that were handed out at the door, and he had instinctively flipped through each page until he could confirm your name and Younghoon's were there. That had definitely brought a smile to his face.
But even now, as the play was coming to an end and the main characters ended up happy together, Hyunjae still couldn't get the smile off his face.
At curtain call, all the actors lined up on stage to take their bows. When you came out to gesture to your acting peers and take your own bow, everyone in Hyunjae's row, especially himself, stood to give you the standing ovation you deserved. Hyunjae's eyes watered as he whooped and cheered and whistled as loud as he could since the flowers made it difficult to clap.
As he and everyone else sat back into their seats, he had to sneak a hand up to delicately wipe his right eye.
"That's my best friend," he said to no one in particular, his laugh watery but proud.
The woman next to him heard him, though. "She's incredible."
Hyunjae smiled at her, then turned his head toward the stage again where you were corralling the main cast in a massive hug onstage. "I know; she's amazing." I love her.
— ✶
The entire performing arts hall was in a state of utter pandemonium. Both the auditorium and the backstage areas were swarmed with people trying to get out of the building, trying to find their friends, and a butt load of other things. You and all the cast members began helping backstage crew take everything down and lock them up; after all, they would need to be preserved for the next two performances of the show that would carry on through the first couple of weeks of summer. Opening Night was only the "presentation" of your thesis.
Tomorrow was Commencement Day—there were a great handful of you graduating literally tomorrow, including yourself, and so you'd all resolved to go home and save the celebration for another night.
As you wandered through the corridors and dressing rooms, you were sure to congratulate everyone for their hard work tonight. Your cheeks ached from smiling, pride singing through your blood, as well as the lingering adrenaline. But you couldn't deny that you were relieved that the night had gone, and gone well.
Friends and family members of the cast and crew began trickling into the backstage area, so the space to roam lessened considerably.
Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjae had rushed back here faster than his friends could stop him, antsy to finally congratulate you and let you know how proud he was and how great the play was. He craned his head over the sea of people, half his bouquet no doubt squished, but he was still determined.
There—he spotted the blazer you wore on stage—but you were all the way at the end of the corridor. There was no easy way through the people, and who knew if you would leave before he could get to you.
"Yn!" He hollered over all the noise.
Like clockwork, your head whipped around from the stagehand you were speaking animatedly with in search of who had called your name. You locked gazes with him, and there was a softening in your features.
(In a crowded room, all I'd see is y—)
His heart leapt and his legs jump-started into high gear, murmuring out sorries as he maneuvered his way toward you. There were tears pricking at his vision; he never cried for anything or anyone, but you'd been the only one to draw such emotion from him. You were the only one who deserved that emotion.
"Jae, you're here," you breathed out, but then somebody tapped your shoulder and nodded in the direction from which you came.
He saw the concern on your face, the sense of responsibility, and yet the reluctance, as well. "Call me when you're done," he said. He mustered a smile, pushing the flowers into your dumbfounded hands. "Promise to call me."
You managed to nod. "Yeah," you swallowed, "thanks for coming tonight."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
EPISODE THIRTEEN: ALL THE WORLD'S OUR STAGE
A couple of hours later, you'd managed to express your gratitude to nearly everyone and their mother for their work and help, as well as convince Jihyo to answer any calls that came in regarding the play tonight. It was a big ask and you had been reluctant to ask that of her, but you also knew you needed to talk to Hyunjae.
You made your way out the back door of the performing arts hall and into the warm, early Summer night. There weren’t too many people still around since the only handful of people left in the performing arts center were all older staff members and faculty. You spotted Hyunjae leaning against the wall by the staircase, his gaze lifting from his phone when he sensed you coming toward him. A small smile curled onto his lips, and you realized how much you missed the sight of it.
“Hey, sorry you had to wait for a while,” you said as you approached.
He tucked his hands into his pockets. “No, don’t worry about it. The play was—it was incredible, Yn. I’m really proud of you.”
Those words struck you even harder than you imagined him saying he loved you back would have. It meant a lot coming from other people, but it meant the most coming from him. “Thanks,” you rasped, the emotion shining through your voice, and you had to consciously reign yourself in. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, and I know that my confession was kind of unexpected.”
“You shouldn’t have to apologize for that, Yn,” he said gently, his teeth biting down on his lower lip slightly. “I’m the sorry one. I mean, it was so stupid that I even entertained the idea of Ellie being remotely correct. It was a breach of trust and I crossed a boundary that I shouldn’t have. For that, I’m so sorry.”
You motioned to the path leading down the stairs and toward a path even you knew not where it would lead the two of you tonight. Hyunjae heard your silent suggestion, and the two of you began descending the stairs together, side by side. “Maybe I thought I wasn’t ready at that moment,” you confessed, “but maybe it was what needed to be said, you know?”
When you glanced over at him, you found that he was already looking back at you, clinging onto every word that came out of your mouth.
Your heart rate was still rocketing into the atmosphere right now, but you knew that it wasn’t from the play. “I think that I needed to say that—no matter if I was ‘ready’ or not. I don’t think I would have ever been ready, but…” Your foot hit the bottom step of the stairs, and you turned on the ball of your feet to face him, guiding the two of you down the path and away from your normal direction toward the bus station. “Before you say anything, just hear me out, okay?”
Hyunjae gave a nod, and your heart stuttered in your chest as you forged onward. “You don’t have to affirm my feelings if you don’t feel the same way,” you said, returning to your normal position at his side, “I think that was why I’ve been so afraid of telling you all this time—that you wouldn’t feel the same. That, and the fact that I was scared that telling you would absolutely wreck our friendship like it did these past few weeks.”
From beside you, Hyunjae managed to keep quiet, but his voice was also jammed inside his throat. It was filled up with all the things he’d wanted to say to you first, all the things that he wanted to say in response to what you were telling him now.
“Ellie confronted me the week after our fallout.” Hyunjae stiffened—had she done anything to you? “She told me that she was the one behind all the ‘pranks’ or whatever throughout the play rehearsals.”
“Yn, those weren’t pranks,” Hyunjae couldn’t help but cut in, “it was plain sabotage.”
Sabotage. You’d come to fear labeling her actions with that word, simply because you didn’t want to believe that that was her true intention. You struggled to swallow, stopping in the middle of the walkway. The two of you faced each other then, his eyebrows pressed together in shock and anger and every emotion in between. “She told me she did it to get back at me.”
“For what?”
“I abandoned her,” you told him. That emotion on his face shuddered like ripples in a pool of water. “It’s neither of your faults either, but I guess what I thought was drifting away from her and becoming closer to you, she saw in a more malicious light. And she said that she’d been sick of living in my shadow despite not even being in my life, and I’ve just been thinking about that for a while.” You said you’d be there for her, that she’d always be enough for you… how ironic that you’d been the one to drift away.
Hyunjae peered at you, a mess of things going through his head. You couldn’t imagine what he was thinking about right now, but you knew he was never the best at expressing his emotions and vulnerabilities.
It was okay, though. He didn’t have to say anything. “In that moment, I cut off all ties with her,” you clarified, “when she told me it was all her doing. Now, I just feel a little sad; I wished she would’ve just said hi to me.”
Hyunjae wet his lips, grasping your shoulders to get your attention. “You know you didn’t deserve any of that, right? All that shit she gave you? I mean, she pretty much terrorized you, Yn, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
You wondered—no, you knew—he was probably beating himself up inside for the argument the two of you had, too. The combined force of all of those tough conversations, as well as the pressure from the play… “I’m okay, Jae,” you reassured him. This time, you even believed what you said. “I’m shaken, no doubt, but it’s something that will pass with time.”
In this lighting, he was beautiful, ethereal. The amber streetlight casted a heavenly glow upon him, and made his eyes glimmer like the moon off a still body of water. You’d written something like that description somewhere in the original script, and you realized just how intimately you’d projected your reality into the lines of that production. Perhaps one day, you’d have the strength to point them all out to him.
A thought suddenly occurred to you in the silence, and your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Oh my god.”
“What? What’s wrong—”
“I never got to see your finalized capstone project!” You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth in scandal. “Shit, the showcase for it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Oh shit, I’m awful—” For as supportive as Hyunjae had been with your final project, you had neglected to even think about his thesis these last weeks. Guilt coursed through your body in waves and you wanted to screech—
“Hey, honey,” he chuckled good-naturedly, “it’s okay. You were busy; don’t sweat it.” He bit his lip again, but it did nothing to suppress the shit-eating grin on his face. “Wanna go see it now? I’m sure they haven’t cleaned everything up yet.”
Your heart skipped for a new reason now. “You’re gonna break into the architecture building?” You laughed.
“It’s not breaking and entering if you have access,” he said in a “duh” tone, waving around his student ID.
As the two of you made a swift reverse back up the stairs from which you’d come from, you gaped at his ID card in disbelief. “I can’t believe they gave you clearance.”
He wrinkled his nose at you. “Why wouldn’t they grant their top student clearance on his last week?” He sniffed jokingly.
The pairing of dialogue and execution made a giggle sputter out of you, the sound making Hyunjae’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. He hated the tension that had wrapped itself around the bones of his ribcage, but those vines were slowly loosening and blooming into something familiar, and yet new.
The trek to the architecture building was well-worn by both you and him. You hadn’t been by the architecture building in awhile because of your busy schedule, but you used to always pop by to either walk him to lecture or to come visit him while he was working. The building was built in a Greco-Roman style with columns and arches, and beautifully carved marble murals and statues around the perimeter of the roof. You knew that the building style in particular was never Hyunjae’s taste, but you remembered when the two of you had toured the school in your senior year of high school, he had been awestruck nonetheless.
Just as he had said it would, his ID card slid against the panel outside the front doors to the architecture building and came up green.
The two of you, feeling just like you were kids again, giggled as you crept into the darkness of the foyer. Hyunjae grabbed your hand without thinking and dragged you down the right hallway toward one of the larger conference-style classrooms on the ground floor. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in case security came by and saw, but there was a conveniently-placed streetlight right outside the window anyway.
“There’s my masterpiece,” he said quietly, a sort of jitteriness coming through his voice.
You let go of his hand so you could inspect the model he constructed. The feature piece seemed to be the massive clear dome on the top, as well as the smaller, surrounding establishments. “It’s amazing, Jae. This is so cool.”
He almost looked shy as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest and watched you. “Ah, thanks. It’s, uh, a proposed model for a new performing arts department.”
Your head turned to him then. “No way.”
“Yes way,” he smiled. “I don’t know if it’ll get taken up by the board or not, but I gave them my whole spiel yesterday.”
“You’re gonna give me the spiel, too, right?”
Hyunjae made a face, feigning reluctance, but you were already dragging one of the chairs over so you could sit for his little presentation. “I mean, I guess I remember enough to do it again.” He took up his rightful place right next to his model, in front you, and cleared his throat to give you his speech.
The speech went wonderfully; you cheered as quietly loud as you possibly could. Your face was split by a bright smile that you were sure was enough to power the lights in this building if you really wanted to. If the board didn’t take up Hyunjae’s proposed new model after that, then you were about to send a strongly worded letter to the dean.
Hyunjae took on a boyish sort of smile after the moment had come and gone. “Hey, you wanna see something cool?”
“Cooler than this?”
“Pfft,” he dismissed nonchalantly, “you flatter me. But yeah, actually. Come on—it’s on the second floor.”
You quickly shoved your chair back into place and followed Hyunjae as he practically ran out of the room and up the stairs to the second floor. He had far too much energy for it being around ten o’clock at night, but when you saw the absolute glow on his face when he took you from project to project, gushing and nerding out about all the clever designs, you didn’t have the energy to even question his energy. There was something utterly contagious about hearing him talk about his major with such passion; you were so glad he had found a home in this field.
When the two of you finally let yourselves out of the architecture building, it was probably around an hour later. Your body ached with exhaustion, but your brain was abuzz with activity. You had missed this, missed him so much. For the first time in a very long time, you had never felt this carefree before.
“Can you believe we’re actually graduating tomorrow?” You asked him as the two of you walked toward the direction of the street your town house was on.
Hyunjae snorted. “No, not at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “Well, I’m actually so glad that I’m finally getting out of here, but it’s kind of scary, too.”
You gave a nod, then tilted your head back to breathe in the comfortable, night air. There were stars up in the sky tonight. “Yeah, I get that. Like, where will we all be, y’know?”
“Right.”
“But I think that the unknown in general will always be scary,” you added. “In the end, we’ll always know that everything will turn out okay.”
“And if it’s not okay, then it isn’t the end yet,” Hyunjae replied with a pointed look.
“Exactly.” You had a few options lined up for you after graduation, but you’d told yourself beforehand that you would deal with all of that after commencement day. After months and years of working nonstop, you deserved a little rest before fully stepping into the adult world. Wow, what a scary thought, indeed. "I'm proud of you, Hyunjae."
He had to stop himself from breaking down right there. "I'm proud of you, too, Yn."
The walk home was quiet, but it was as if a layer of film had been laid over just you and Hyunjae. The white noise of the night became somewhat calming for you, and you felt yourself sinking into a state of serenity. You had confessed your love for him already—he finally knew how you felt—but funny enough, that was freeing.
That had been your biggest secret, and finally being able to lift that burden from your chest was… it was good. Everything was good now.
Hyunjae softly said, "I know that you probably have so much to do after graduation tomorrow, but we've always wanted to go on a road trip cross-country."
When you looked up over at him, he could read the excitement glittering in your irises. "You're right! Man, that conversation was so long ago. I mean… I won't be so busy after graduation, not immediately. I want time to enjoy freedom with you," you laughed, lightly punching his shoulder.
He chuckled, your words soaking into his skin like sunlight on the first warm day after a harsh winter season. "I think it'd be nice, just the two of us." He couldn't wait.
There was an earnestness in the way you looked at him then. His thoughts had been all over the place before, but now, they were beginning to clear. "I think that'd be nice, too."
Your townhouse was now in sight, and a distinct feeling of anxiety rose in his throat. It was bitter-tasting, the way he dreaded leaving you for the night even if he would most definitely see you again tomorrow. He didn't know why inviting himself in like he usually did was so difficult now, but suddenly, you were both standing in the middle of the entryway and you were getting your keys from your bag.
It was late; he shouldn't keep you up. You'd had a long day.
"—you tomorrow then. Thanks for tonight, Jae."
He wrapped his arms around you just as you hugged him, his face pressed against the crown of your head and yours pressed into his shoulder. He didn't want to let go, but it was late—
"Good night," he said, nearly inaudibly.
"'Night," you said, going into the house and closing the door.
Maybe it was the physical, literal visual of you closing the door on him, but the epiphany hit him like a bus.
EPISODE FOURTEEN: AAAND THAT'S A WRAP!
YOU were about five steps from dropping to the floor and sleeping for about five years. Of course, you could not do that because you literally had to wake up to graduate tomorrow, but right this moment, you were so excited to just face plant into your pillow.
Tap!
The first time, you hadn't even heard the tiny noise as you shuffled into your attic bedroom and set your bag on the floor at the foot of your bed.
TAP!
Actually, you hadn't even heard it the second time—
BONK!
"What the…" Your head whirled around toward the window. You could have sworn you heard something hit the window pane. Cautiously, you walked up to the glass and peered out into the darkened street. It was a little difficult to see given the contrast between the light of your bedroom, the dark of night, and the fogging acrylic pane—
You nearly screeched as a small pebbled hit the window, right where your face would have been. What the fuck—?
Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Could this have been Ellie trying to spook you again? No way, right? Plus, wasn't Hyunjae just walking by?...
Oh, wait.
With a huff of indignation, you wrestled with the latch on the window pane just as another tiny rock came flying at the glass. "Hold your horses," you muttered, finally managing to haul the dusty window up. You only ever really opened this window during the warmer months, and so you hadn't used it since probably late fall quarter.
You stuck your head out the window, and surprise surprise, Hyunjae was tossing another piece of ammo up and down in his palm, down at street level. "What is wrong with you?" You stage whispered.
His mouth curved into a frown, head tilting, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"
"What," you repeated firmer this time, "is wrong with you?"
"I needed to get your attention," he shrugged.
"You couldn't just text?"
"Isn't this what Romeo did?"
Clearly, someone hadn't been paying attention when you were studying for your classes on Shakespeare in both high school and second year of college. "No," you quipped, "and Romeo was stupid."
Hyunjae sighed, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, dropping the pebble in his hand to the ground. "Okay, so maybe I'm not some Romeo—" You weren't quite sure where he was going with this.
He started walking around, pacing the sidewalk in front of your townhouse since he couldn't stand directly below the window (your roommate would kill him if he killed her azaleas). For a moment, you were ready to go down there yourself and shake the words from him, but it seemed he was able to snap himself into focus.
"I just… it's taken me a long time—god, it always takes me a long time to come up with the words for this type of stuff," he stumbled over his words, and you felt yourself grow increasingly tender. He was never good at wearing his heart on his sleeve. "And my friends have been saying it this whole time—hell, I've probably been aware of it unconsciously this whole time, too! But you know how I am. I'm too damn stubborn to cave, even to myself."
You let him continue on without breaking his monologue. Though you couldn't be too sure what this was, your heart still galloped in hope.
"Yn, I'm—" he said, head tilting back to meet your eyes so you could see those beautiful irises of his, "—I'm in love with you, too."
This was really happening, huh? Your fingers curled around the window sill and you opened your mouth in an effort to say something, but then you closed it. The words and the thoughts were there, but it was so foggy in your mind that you couldn't even string the words together yourself either.
You watched the hope, the light, gradually fade from his expression, even if he wasn't actively trying to show it. "Please tell me to go home if you're not gonna say anything," he said to you next. "I know you're tired, but god, I just stood here and realized I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't tell you. I know it's selfish, but…" He lifted his hands in sort of a helpless gesture, his hands then falling limp at his sides.
Finally, you found your voice. You cleared your throat, then asked quietly, albeit a tad nervously, "This—this isn't just because you feel bad about what I said about not reciprocating, right? I mean, higher levels of excitement and arousal can be misattributed to feelings sometimes—"
Hyunjae shook his head. "Dear god, no. I've just been… I've just been really stupid, so, uhm, maybe I am like Romeo?"
You fought the smile on your face, but it seemed you lost the battle. "Silly goose," you teased, laughing as you shook your head. "You ain't no Romeo, Lee Jaehyun, but I've never wanted anyone but you anyway."
He broke into a laugh at that, the sound echoing in the streets, and it sounded like, if one could bottle up pure delight and release it to the world. "You're so much better at this than me."
"Clearly."
"Well," he bit his lip, his smile impish, "can I kiss you to make up for it?"
Oh, there went your heart—there it went, carrying you down the stairs and out the door—you would have leapt out the window if you were physically able (you weren't). Your heart carried you all the way outside again until you arrived in your best friend's arms, his face, his smile illuminated in the soft glow of the streetlight.
And he held you so tight, you couldn't tell if that beating at your chest was his heart or yours. The two of you wasted no time in pressing your mouths to the other, tasting the other's smile in one more way than you'd ever done before.
It felt, at that moment, that this might have marked act three of one part of your life—but act one of the next was just beginning.
Perhaps it was true then: when it counted, you always went back to your first love.
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a/n: heyy thank you for reading thru!! i hope u enjoyed and if u did, pls do consider commenting, reblogging, or sending an ask :] we do love a bit of humility in the end ayo :3 the original plan is to go for sunwoo's next o7
permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ethereal-engene @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @jcmdoll @kflixnet
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xiaosonlybeloved · 2 years ago
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Broken Hearts~ Diluc
featuring:- Diluc, fem!reader (Y/N), Childe warnings:- break-up, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, lmk if i missed anything a/n- pls i got max votes for a xiao ending but i already wrote it as another ending by then 💀 so I'll get an alternate ending out soon
word count- 1k
masterlist
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“We should break up Y/N.” Those words. Those dreaded words that shattered your heart. Those words that meant all of your efforts were wasted, that they weren’t enough. You couldn’t stop the hitch in your voice as you tremblingly asked, “Why? Diluc, why? Was it not enough? Have I done something wrong?” You loved him, you truly did. And that’s why it broke you more, the sudden realisation that perhaps, he did not love you back in the same way.
“It isn’t working out.” He said simply. “It won’t work out. I have a lot of work, and I am unable to fit in a relationship into my life. It is proving to be quite a burden and a hindrance.” He said emotionlessly. He didn’t even feel anything about his words, no remorse, no sadness. It was as if he was talking to another business acquaintance. 
A burden.. Is that what you were? You were trying so hard, you helped him out daily, you sacrificed your free time for him, all because you loved him. ‘Was it worth it?’ A small voice in your mind whispered. ‘No.’ you thought. ‘It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t enough.’ Even after two solid years of this relationship, two years of you being the one who approached him, helped him through dark times, did almost everything in the relationship, it wasn’t enough.
Maybe thats what love did to you. Made you blind, so that you couldn’t see it was an unhealthy, one sided relationship, where Diluc always received, and you always gave. You were the one who confessed, he accepted. You were the one who planned the anniversary, he went along. You gave him gifts, he received them. You waited for him every night, he never did.
Maybe he was correct… This wouldn’t work out. “I see…” “I have to go work at the tavern. I’ll see you later.” He bluntly said. Somewhere deep within, Diluc was wondering why you hadnt protested. Somewhere, he did want you to disagree. But he ignored it obviously, as he walked out of the room, calm, elegant, poised as always. 
The house was silent, alone. Adelinde overheard accidentally, she knew. She tried her best to comfort you. You told her your plans, she supported you. She helped you quickly pack up your stuff during the time Diluc was away.
You left the moment you were done. You couldn’t bear to stay another second in your ex-boyfriend’s house. You didn’t want to see him again. He had torn your heart, you didn’t want him to shatter your mind as well. You were determined to get over this, to not let this tie you down. The Dawn Winery was close to the Stone Gate. And so, you went to Liyue. You went there to permanently settle, to get over your heartbreak. To forget about Diluc.
[THREE YEARS LATER]
(Diluc POV)
To someone who knew him incredibly well, like Kaeya, it was clear he wasn’t doing great, although some would say he deserved it. He devoted all his time and attention to work, and protecting Mondstadt. He always avoided thinking about [Y/N], it only brought him deep regret. Your distressed face flashed across his mind again..
He shook his head, clearing it. He had come to Liyue on a business trip, to discuss possible collaboration. He looked around the bustling Harbor, full of life. He cleared up the discussions with Mr Zhongli, a reputed gentlemen who suggested him possible companies for collaboration. He was just leaving when, “Hey!! Oh god, it’s been ageeesssss since I’ve seen you! Where have you even been!” 
His breath hitched. That voice.. So familiar.. Was it [Y/N]?
Your voice was directed in his direction. A selfish hope bloomed in him. But then, as he laid eyes upon you- looking radiant as always- you ran right past him with your arms outstretched. He stupidly turned his head, following you with his eyes-  to see you run into another man’s embrace, hugging him tightly. 
First he had shattered your heart; now you got your revenge by shattering his. He watched you, a sorrowful, dumbfounded look in his eyes, as you kissed the ginger, excitedly talking to him later. Snippets of your conversation reached him. “How.. mission go? …not hurt, right?..... going to meet your family?”
As they separated, Diluc saw the insignia on the ginger’s uniform. Fatui.
Y/N was dating a fatui. A fatui harbinger no less.
Were you aware of this? 
Seeing their loving exchange, made the hatred Diluc held for the Fatui boil up even more. “I wish people saw the goofy, non-Harbinger side of you.” You laughed. “Now now, that side’s reserved for you, my love.” Tartaglia uncertainly added, “You’re happy, right..? If you’re ever unhappy or unsatisfied with me, please let me know… I don’t want to lose you.” There was unmistakable sincerity in his words that made his thoughts stop. 
[Y/N] was silent for a few moments, then an angelic smile spread on your face. Oh, how he’d missed it. You beamed, “The fact that you’re thinking this is more than enough for me. I will always love you, because I know that you won’t leave me alone in the dust. Remember that, kay? Don’t think like that again.” You held up your pinkie, and Tartaglia linked it with his. “Together forever.” You both said.
He saw the radiant smiles on your faces, the unmistakable love you both held for each other. The sort of love he wasn’t able to give you.
As he saw Tartaglia treat you the way you deserved to be, the way he didn’t, he knew it. He knew. He knew that he had never been worthy of your love that had once been for him, that was now directed towards someone far more deserving. Seeing your happiness, he left, with a broken heart, the way [Y/N]’s had been, except he knew his would never heal. At least you’d found someone worthy of yourself…
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aventurineswife · 23 days ago
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hii i don't know if a similar idea had been suggested but can you write an aveader (haha aven x reader get it!!!(💀 cringing myself this is why i'm anon)) fic based on this? https://x.com/starie_mmm/status/1859981429553406248?s=46 he thinks his money and gifts can solve every relationship problem 😔 i don't mind if it has a good or bad ending, thank you :3
“And you don't seem to understand”
Summary: Aventurine believes his wealth and gifts can solve every relationship problem, but you challenge him to let down his walls and show his true self. Through vulnerable conversations and heartfelt moments, he begins to realize that love is not a transaction but a gamble worth taking.
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vulnerability, Relationship Challenges, Slow Burn, Emotional Growth, Wealth and Emotional Disconnect.
Warnings: Emotional conflict, Discussions of unhealthy relationship dynamics, Mentions of emotional vulnerability and avoidance.
A/N: I get it... 😭
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The dim glow of the city lights filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow on the luxurious room you stood in. Aventurine was leaning against the sofa, a glass of whiskey in hand, his posture poised and confident as usual. His eyes were focused on you, though there was a flicker of something unreadable behind that charming smile. You’d seen it before—the way he used his allure to conceal everything beneath the surface.
You folded your arms across your chest, trying to keep your frustration in check. "Aventurine, you can’t just buy your way out of everything." you said, your voice softer than you'd intended but filled with growing unease.
He chuckled, the sound smooth and easy, like the way he always seemed to handle life—effortlessly. “Darling, you’re overthinking it,” he said with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “A little gift, a bit of luxury... surely that’ll smooth things over.”
You looked down at the velvet box he'd placed on the table between you. Inside was an intricate diamond necklace, the kind only someone with his wealth and status could afford. He’d given you gifts like this before—expensive, dazzling, and yet... hollow.
“I don’t want a necklace, Aventurine. I want you. Not your money or your gifts, but the real you. The one behind all the masks.” Your voice wavered, but you stood your ground. “You think you can just buy my affection, my forgiveness? You think that’s all it takes?”
His expression faltered for a moment. Just a moment. Then, the walls went up, and he smirked, a hint of that smug arrogance returning. “What else is there? I’ve given you everything you could ever want. Power, status, wealth. What’s so wrong with that?”
You shook your head, your heart sinking. He just didn’t get it. Maybe he couldn’t.
“Money doesn’t fix the things that matter. It doesn’t fix the way you pull away every time something real comes up. It doesn’t fix the way you think every problem can be solved by throwing money at it.”
There was silence between you two for a long beat. Aventurine’s gaze dropped to the necklace, then back to you. He sighed, exhaling slowly as if the weight of your words were just another challenge in his endless game of life.
"You think I don't care?" he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with something almost... vulnerable. "That this is how I show affection? You're wrong. You mean more to me than any of this." He gestured around the room, a sweeping motion toward the extravagance that seemed so alien to what you were asking for.
You shook your head, your eyes softening despite the frustration still bubbling inside you. "Aventurine, I’m not asking for grand gestures. I just want to know that you’re here for me—without all the walls. Without the games."
He took a step toward you, his usual cocky smile replaced with a rare seriousness, though his eyes were filled with uncertainty. “I don’t know how to be... without the games. Without the strategy. This is how I’ve always been.”
You reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, but you didn’t pull away. “Then maybe we need to stop playing games. Together. We’re on the same side, Aventurine. But you’ve got to stop thinking that everything is a bet.”
There was a long silence. Aventurine’s gaze softened, his walls breaking down just enough for you to see the vulnerability hidden deep inside. He wasn’t as untouchable as he wanted the world to believe.
After a moment, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—" He trailed off, his usual self-assuredness nowhere to be found. "I didn’t know any other way to show I care."
Your heart clenched. You stepped closer, closing the distance between you two. "Aventurine, the way you care for me is enough. You don’t need to buy my love, you just need to be here when it counts."
He swallowed hard, and for the first time in a long while, he looked... uncertain. But that was okay. Maybe that was the first step.
“I’ll try...” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
You smiled gently, reaching up to touch his cheek, a small act of tenderness that spoke volumes. "That's all I ask."
Days turned into weeks, and Aventurine, ever the strategist, slowly began to open up. The gifts still came, yes, but now there were softer moments—shared laughter over something as simple as a mooncake cat, his eyes soft as he looked at you, no longer behind the veneer of charm and wealth.
He tried, and it was enough. You both learned that love wasn’t something that could be gambled away or bought, but something built through trust, care, and real connection.
Perhaps, after all, this gamble was one worth taking.
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Thought of going with a sad ending but realized I make you guys suffer a lot already hehe so have a break🤭🫶💖
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chesie-blog2 · 2 months ago
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TGG analysis Part 1
Hi, this is part one of my analysis of the great game. In this post i’ll be highlighting moments which display Sherlock’s growing fascination with Moriarty and Moriarty’s undeniable obsession with Sherlock. I aim to (at some point) explain their dynamic beyond the romantic undertones already present in a lot of their lines. This is only an intro into my big theory - the analysis of pool scene.
*low k might be my fav ep
Sherlock’s obsession with Moriarty
Moriarty’s obsession with Sherlock
these may or may not be just shameless (intellectual) flirting
Here is what i wrote down while watching, might be a little sparse, but the important bits are all there. Also disclaimer: my formatting skills suck and i’ll be editing the post a lot post posting (now that’s a trippy sentence), because i can’t sleep at night knowing i don’t make any sense 💀
p.s. - every quote that's numbered is also provided at the end of the post (Moriarty's words said by the victims), they’re important as i think it’s Moriarty’s way of avoiding vulnerability.
There’s an explosion at Baker street. Sherlock is unharmed but gets a package. A pink phone replica. 5 pips = 5 bombs = five tests. On said phone a picture of 221C that Moriarty knew Sherlock’s seen before. in there Carl Powers’ shoes.
Sherlock gets a call (1): “Hello, sexy. I’ve sent you a little puzzle just to say hi.” Sherlock: “the curtain rises. i’ve been expecting this for some time”. He’s excited, and he’s been waiting for Moriarty to act ever since A Study In Pink. 
In the lab, right before Jim comes in. “Why is Mycroft trying to bore me, when someone else is being so delightfully interesting” ((ok not to be biased but that is literally sherlockese for “i have a crush on a boy 🤭” ))
Jim walks in, Sherlock looks at him(reads him in a fraction of a second). Jim looks Sherlock up and down. No but literally how did no one notice his weird fan behaviour around Sherlock?? Molly was invisible to him and he was speaking to John while staring at Sherlock.
(Also can i just mention how Sherlock says “tinted eyelashes” when proving why he thinks Jim is gay and the picture is of his eyebrows) 
Carl Powers, “it’s where i began” Sherlock’s first case - Moriarty’s first crime it's pink this time cuz this is so gay at the age of 14 (20 years ago). Tbh we don’t know if it’s Moriarty’s first crime but i just find it romantic to think so. Of course he could’ve committed that one just to get Sherlock’s attention OR his obsession with Sherlock started after that, because maybe Sherlock's involvement in that case led him to believe that they were “meant to be” rivals. Perfect opposites (i mean they’re like 80% similar but sure dude). Basically he felt personally seen by someone who had the incentive to dig deeper, beyond the standard practices of police work, someone who believes that there is more to see.
Sherlock solves the case, blogs about his findings, communicating with moriarty and making him stop the clock 3:“well done you, come and get me”. When alone Sherlock says to himself: “Elegant”.  “No, i can’t be the only person in the world that gets bored.” As one wise person has said: any emotion that is experienced by a character in private is real. (SHOUTOUT TO @asherlockstudy) This of course applies to truths as well, and here Sherlock is being as honest as possible. This line proves how much Sherlock truly needs Moriarty, someone who understands that inexplicable pain of being bored. Just by knowing that someone like that exists, Sherlock feels understood, freed from the loneliness of being estranged, from the discomfort of being a “freak”. This game is the highest form of entertainment, something that allows him to be himself and to be valued for it. But more on that in the pool scene.
Another puzzle, 8 hours. (5): “We were made for eachother Sherlock”*Sherlock smiles* and softly says “Then talk to me in your own voice”bro is cheezing after the call bro…
“Our friendly bomber. I am on fire!”(he’s having fun ☺️) 
(6):“you can come and fetch me” Sherlock is smiling like crazy again.
John: “It’s all meant for you”. Sherlock: “Yes, i know 😏” !!!!! (video 1 below for the face expressions) (btw I was literally just filming my laptop so sorry for the shit quality, I just want to have proof for my yapp :DD)
Like how special one must feel to have someone be willing to kill tens or even hundreds of people just to entertain you? It’s not even about the lives to be honest, just the fact that someone is creating these personalised little puzzles. Like, isn’t that hot? This is also one of the MANY moments when John expresses his disapproval for Sherlock’s involvement in this game, mostly the giddiness about it. This will be important later on (i’m edging y’all so hard with this hinting :Ddd but i’m writing this after everything else so oops).
Sherlock is kinda defends(?) Moriarty, when Lestrade asks why is the bomber doing this. Sherlock answers *shrug* “good samaritan”, Greg is all like ‘he’s a bomber, hello?’ Sherlock: “bad samaritan 🤟😗” (Idk what's with the emojis but I just wanted to show how relaxed and goofy he was about it all). Basically, Sherlock interprets Moriarty’s “game” as a personal service, despite it being morally questionable.(ok but bro can’t stay serious, like he’s smiling all the time “[we’re dealing with] something new 😁” )
Ok now that i’m going over everything for the millionth time i noticed that this moment here was one of the worst attempts of hiding his “intellectual crush”. Sherlock isn’t big for conventional morality, and i’ll touch on that later, but this was so unserious it almost seemed like he became more comfortable in himself. He began to see that saying out of pocket or perhaps cynical stuff like that is fine, however much of a crime against “preserving the social peace of normies” it seems to be. I made that shit up, hopefully y’all get what this means :D Having someone like Moriarty allowed him to question his own role in society and how he, despite often being against succumbing to what's normal(and boring), conforms to it, to society, which further strengthens his feelings of estrangement. We're getting kafkaesque in here, boys! (sorry)
“Novel” Sherlock realised Moriarty is a consultant criminal(he organises crimes but no one has direct contact to him). When John asks (again) why Moriarty’s doing this, Sherlock can’t help but smile. “i think he wants to be distracted” *says in a breathy tone(intrigued/touched)* (WAIT I didn't know I could only put 1 video omg I literally feel 80 years old, how does Tumblr work!? *crying*) So Sherlock was staring into space, his face lit up upon realizing that him and Jim are the same, that they experience the same things and blah blah blah he looks horny in this scene I legit don't know what to even say bruh. (I'm mad that I couldn't put the video in lmaoo)
No but fr John noticed Sherlock has an intellectual crush on Moriarty and was annoyed at how entertained (and fulfilled) Sherlock was by this morally grey game.
The golem was hired to kill the astronomer guy and his friend professor because they would’ve been able to expose that the painting was a fake based on the stars. Sherlock figures it all out: “Oh that is brilliant, that is gorgeous. this is beautiful. Love this!”. The gallery woman admits to the fraud. Sherlock learns that this is in fact Moriarty behind this. *smiles*. 
our baby boy solved everything and now is curled up, watching shit telly :( 
Sherlock was waiting for John to leave to write to (more like at) Moriarty *smiles*. He lied to John about having given the missile plans to Mycroft. Sherlock actively wants to keep John out of this, because of his disapproval, John finds Sherlock’s fascination with Moriarty repulsive. 
So to summarize the absolute randomness I spew out in this thing: the connection between Sherlock and Moriarty is quite vague, but ultimately based on their eccentricity(and in this case it doesn't really matter if(more like "how") it's romantic). I'll talk about it all in the big post I PROMISE, this is just the intro so you can follow my impossible thought process. Another important thing: John as the symbol of conventionality and morality. That's it, I'll post again in like a month because the feeling of responsibility paralyzes me LMAO. ok bye ;)
+
Moriarty’s words said by the victims:
“hello, sexy. i’ve sent you a little puzzle just to say hi.”
“12 hours to solve the puzzle, sherlock, or i’m going to be so naughty”
“well done you, come and get me.”
“clever you, guessing about carl powers. i never liked him. carl laughed at me, so i stopped him laughing. This is about you and me.”
“the clue is in the name “janus cars”[s:why’d you be giving me a clue] why does anyone do anything? because i’m bored. we were made for eachother sherlock”
“you can come and fetch me” 
“i like to watch you dance” 
“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? joining the dots.”
“nice touch this, the pool, where little carl died. i stopped him. i can stop john watson too, stop his heart”
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endofradio · 6 months ago
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PROVE MY LOVE
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WARNINGS: NSFW (but like… it’s 🌽 with feeling. they start smashing towards the end 💀)
RELATIONSHIP: FRANK / ORIGINAL CHARACTER (SYLVIE)
NOTES: this is a draft of a scene i’ve got planned for a future fic! i’ll probably be posting more drafts along the way because this is fun tbh. also, this scene takes place in frank’s apartment.
SUMMARY: frustrated by the fact sylvie seems to be questioning his reasons for saving her life, frank decides to tell her — and show her — how he really feels about her.
WORD COUNT: 4,032 (yeah it’s long)
TAGS: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @blackwolfstabs @shawsfinalgirl @atcarpenter
likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! helps keep me motivated <3
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“Why are you being so nice to me?” Sylvie asked the question carefully, a sense of confusion flickering in her gaze. “Why did you choose to save my life? You… you tried to kill me, and now…”
As she looked up at Frank, she could see him look away from her for a moment. When he looked back at her, his already-cold gaze had hardened. “Well, I suppose I had a change of heart, huh?” He shot back, a bitter smile curling at his lips. “Sure, maybe I hurt you, and I am a piece of shit, but… did you really think I was gonna let you just fuckin’ die like that?” He was getting closer to her now, practically staring into her goddamn soul.
Sylvie swallowed nervously, taking a couple steps backward. “You tried. To fucking. Kill me.” She repeated, stopping at every couple of words to let them sink in. “You could’ve just let me die, but you didn’t. Why?”
Why? That question repeated over and over again in Frank’s mind. He could feel the wall he had built around himself slowly crumbling. He couldn’t be vulnerable. Vulnerability was a weakness. Yet, this woman standing in front of him was fucking breaking him. There was a much deeper reason he had chosen to save her besides “having a change of heart,” but of course he wasn’t going to fucking admit that, not yet. Trying to mask his emotional turmoil was only proving to be becoming significantly more difficult for him right now.
So, Frank just shook his head and let out a bitter chuckle. “You really don’t fuckin’ get it, do you?” He snidely asked, taking a step closer towards Sylvie. He let out a bitter scoff. “God, you really are a stubborn little brat, aren’t you?” Yeah, he was being an asshole right now, but it was just a front. He was desperately trying to hold back from just fucking saying it.
“What is there to get?” Sylvie questioned, narrowing her eyes at Frank. As for her, she was experiencing her own tumultuous whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.
“What is there to— oh, Jesus. If only you fuckin’ knew what goes on inside my goddamn head.” Frank knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer. Jesus Christ, he needed her to understand. When he looked at Sylvie, she seemed only more confused, and it was pissing him off. He continued to walk towards her as she backed away from him, until her back was nearly pressed against the kitchen counter. He could tell she was getting nervous. Afraid, even. The idea was almost physically painful to Frank.
“You have no clue, no fuckin’ clue what you put me through.” Frank hissed, his eyes narrowing. “Wouldn’t you just love to know?”
“Yeah, I would like to know.” Sylvie answered, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. Frank picked up on the way her breathing was quickening, how her heart rate was accelerating ever so slightly… why was she so afraid? Yeah, perhaps he knew he was scaring her, but he couldn’t help it. He was a jackass. She was occasionally avoiding eye contact with him, her eyes darting in different directions. Frank couldn’t handle it.
Maybe a little too roughly, he reached to grab Sylvie’s chin, tilting it so she was looking directly at him. “You truly, truly piss me off sometimes, you know that?” He asked, his voice lowering. “You make me confused. One second, I wanna just… I don’t know, snap at you. Taunt you. Get under your skin as I usually do.”
Frank paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. Then, he continued.
“But then, I…” His eyes briefly flickered down to Sylvie’s lips. Shit. He looked back into her eyes, suddenly feeling as though he couldn’t speak. “I… wanna kiss you until you can’t. Fuckin’. Breathe. Until all you can think about is me. Until you forget your own goddamn name. Until…” Frank tried to shake the thoughts out of his head, but they were just spilling out of his mouth. Now, all he could think about was kissing her, tasting her. Snap out of it already!
He looked away from her for a moment, tightly shutting his eyes. Even then, the thoughts only persisted, getting stronger with each second. He just wanted to have his hands all over her.
Frank tightened his grip on Sylvie’s chin just a little, and when he looked at her… god, the way she was looking at him, with her soft, brown eyes all wide, and… was that a tear glistening in her left eye? Why did she look beautiful like this? Fucking hell, he was fighting demons.
“How do you feel about me?” He then harshly asked. “Don’t lie, either. I’ll know if you are.”
Sylvie drew in a deep, unsteady breath. How the hell was she supposed to answer that question? It wasn’t an easy one. She didn’t know how to phrase what she was feeling, what she was thinking. She didn’t know what the fuck to say.
“Answer me.” Frank hissed through gritted teeth. Part of him felt guilty for acting like this, but he just couldn’t help it. He was just… frustrated.
“I don’t… I don’t know…” Sylvie weakly whispered. “I mean, I… I feel like you…”
“Like I what?”
“Like you only want to use me.”
Frank rolled his eyes and stepped away from Sylvie, taking a deep breath. He began to pace around the kitchen like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair. He knew he was an asshole, but for some reason he couldn’t handle Sylvie thinking of him as that much of an asshole. He had tried to push down his feelings for her, tried to seem like he didn’t care. Now, Sylvie was truly under the impression that Frank didn’t give a shit about her, and for some reason… he didn’t like that.
“You seriously fuckin’ think that?” He asked, before approaching Sylvie again. He placed both hands on either side of the kitchen counter, trapping her. “I mean, sure. Maybe I am a heartless bastard, but… fuck. You’re so goddamn oblivious.”
“What…?” Sylvie’s eyes were glazing over with tears even more. Fuck. “What are you… trying to say?”
Frank could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing getting faster. He was desperately clinging onto the self-control that he did have.
“You drive me fuckin’ crazy. I hope you realize that.” He whispered, a sardonic half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You make me feel like I’m about to lose my goddamn mind. You’re… you’re like a fuckin’ parasite.”
Sylvie could feel her breath getting caught in her throat. Wait… so did he feel the same way she did? She thought he didn’t, she thought her feelings were completely one-sided. He had drained her of so much blood and could’ve just left her to die, but… he didn’t. All her life, Sylvie had never experienced even just a little bit of compassion that was directed at her. Of course she was in denial. Coming from someone like Frank, it was even more difficult to comprehend.
Frank got even closer to Sylvie, their faces now inches apart from each other. He could feel her warm breath and the fiery tension that was crackling in the air.
“What am I… to you?” Sylvie quietly asked.
That question just about did it for Frank. As irritation built up within him along with a flaming desire, he swiftly reached to grab her face, claiming Sylvie’s lips in a kiss that was full of both frustration and passion. She was caught off-guard by the suddenness of the kiss, her eyes widening for a moment as her breath hitched. Then, she slowly relaxed into it, her eyes gently fluttering shut.
The kiss was slow at first, but as Frank felt his self-control slipping further, it became more intense. He moved a hand away from Sylvie’s face to grab at her waist, suddenly feeling a surge of possessiveness. He felt her reaching to touch his face, and that really sent him over the edge. Frank frantically began to place kisses along Sylvie’s jawline, down her neck… and then he swiftly lifted her up, placing her on top of the kitchen counter. That was when he realized just how small she really was in comparison to him — he was nearly a foot taller than her.
Frank’s lips met Sylvie’s again, and his hands were practically all over her as he urgently deepened the kiss. He could feel her slowly melting into him and letting go, and it was only adding fuel to the fire. The way she wrapped her arms around his neck, combing her fingers through his hair… it was the kind of thing Frank only thought he could dream about. This was different from the first and only other time they had done something like this — there was passion, genuine passion. Frank’s mind started to wander to that particular moment. He could just hear Sylvie quietly whimpering his real name, how good it sounded. He couldn’t get the image out of his head of the way Sylvie had looked underneath him with her cheeks all flushed… and the way she looked when she had been on top of him— alright, Frank. That’s enough. That can all happen again later.
“Why do you let me… do this…?” Frank quietly asked in between kisses. “Y’know I’m not… good for you…”
Sylvie’s heart was beating out of her chest. She just wanted to say those three words that she’d been trying to hold back from saying… but she couldn’t. Part of her was scared to, still afraid that Frank didn’t really feel the same way and only felt lust for her, nothing else. She had lived a miserable life of rejection.
“I… I know…” She whispered, her breath shaking.
“You just can’t… pull away, huh? You’re just… wrapped around my finger… aren’t you?”
“M… mhm…”
Frank smirked a little against Sylvie’s lips. “That’s what I thought… you’ve got me wrapped around yours, too.”
He started roughly kissing her again. He just couldn’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her — she was like a drug to him. He pushed Sylvie’s shirt up just a little, just so he could feel her skin, and the sensation of Frank’s cold hand on her bare waist was sending chills down her spine, and her breath hitched just a bit.
“You remember that… one time we slept together?” Frank murmured, his kisses now trailing down to Sylvie’s neck again, specifically the side where the scarred-over bite wound was — the one he had inflicted. The realization gave him another surge of possessiveness. The scar was a reminder — a reminder of how Sylvie belonged to him.
“I didn’t want that to end.” Frank quietly continued, his hands continuing to gently caress her body. “I was… disappointed… when I woke up and… and you weren’t there.”
“Really…?” Sylvie asked. As she felt Frank kissing her neck, she shivered just a bit. She couldn’t believe how good he was able to make her feel.
“I wanted that moment… to last forever…” Frank continued, murmuring against her neck. Slowly, his hand began to travel up Sylvie’s skirt, his fingers gently grazing her thigh. As he felt a sudden wave of desire come over him, Frank left a gentle bite on her neck. “You felt… so good…” His voice had started to get rougher, huskier.
Frank heard a small gasp from Sylvie, and he quickly moved his head away from her neck to look down at her. Quickly, he kissed her again, his hands roaming back to her waist and grabbing at it desperately.
Before Sylvie could even say anything, Frank lifted her up off of the kitchen counter. Being in his arms like this, so high above ground… it was making Sylvie’s heart race even more, perhaps from a combination of anxiety and also desire. With his newly-obtained abilities, Frank could easily pick up on any emotion Sylvie was feeling. If she was afraid, he could practically smell it — right now, he could. He looked up at her, brushing a dark strand of hair away from her face. On the other hand, he could also sense the desire she was feeling. It was only encouraging him.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you?”
Sylvie slowly nodded. “Afraid of heights, I guess.” She answered quietly. “You’re just… really tall.”
“No one’s ever done this to you before, huh?” Frank asked, a small smirk forming on his face. Sylvie shook her head in response. All of this that she had experienced with Frank — genuine passionate kissing, sex that made her actually feel something… she had never experienced it with anybody before, and to think it was her former worst enemy making her feel all of these things…
“Well, you’re not gonna fall.” Frank quietly spoke, before taking her lips in another deep kiss as he carried her off towards his bedroom.
Once they got to the bedroom, things became progressively more heated. They were on the bed within moments, Sylvie quickly straddling him as they roughly kissed once again. As they did, Sylvie felt Frank shift underneath her as he moved to unbutton his pants, before she heard the sound of him unzipping them. Moving his hands back to her body, Frank began to slowly move them down Sylvie’s slender form, before slipping a hand under her black lace skirt, sliding his hand slowly up her thigh, pausing once he had reached her panties. He let his hand linger there for a moment, before hooking his fingers around the waistband. With a slow, gradual movement, he pulled the material down to her legs. Sylvie finished the job for him, breaking the kiss and freeing herself of the fabric, tossing it on the floor. She adjusted her position, hovering above Frank’s undone pants just a little. She looked down for a moment before her gaze met Frank’s again.
By now, his hands had wandered to her hips, keeping a firm grip on them. He looked into her eyes, his own having darkened with desire. “Don’t keep me waitin’…” He whispered roughly, pulling Sylvie closer against him as he claimed her mouth in what was close to probably being the hundredth kiss of the night so far. He truly was just that desperate for her, especially right now.
Just as Sylvie was about to take things further, there was the sudden sound of thunder outside. Frank broke the kiss for a moment to smirk against her lips, looking up at her.
“Ever fucked to a thunderstorm?” He slyly asked. “It’s quite nice, really — makes it all the more… intense.”
Sylvie chuckled sheepishly. “No, I… I haven’t.”
“Well�� would you like to know what it’s… like?”
Sylvie slowly nodded, and that was when Frank pulled her into yet another hungry kiss. She slowly lowered herself a little more, and with a single motion, rocked her hips just a little, gently brushing against Frank but not enough to completely take him in. The sensation was enough to cause her to quietly gasp against his lips.
As Frank’s tongue slipped into her mouth, Sylvie felt him suddenly press his hips upwards into her, and she let out another gasp. He gripped her hips again and slowly began to guide her into a gentle rhythm, thunder continuing to crackle outside.
Then, those three words slipped from Sylvie’s mouth. “I… I love you…” She quietly murmured against Frank’s lips.
The admission hit Frank full-force like a goddamn semi-truck. Part of him wanted to deny it, but the way she said it was so vulnerable.
“Say it… say it again.” Frank pleaded. “So I… know it’s… real.”
“I’m in… love with you… Adam…”
The way she said his name… goddamnit. It was making his stomach do somersaults. How the hell was he supposed to control himself now?
“You’re… you’re serious…” He murmured. Frank honestly hadn’t expected Sylvie to actually be in love with him. In his mind, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Hell, he didn’t even think he was capable of being loved by anybody. Choosing to save her was the only act of compassion he had ever displayed towards her, and part of him still wanted to question why he had done it.
“Love” normally meant nothing to Frank, but now that he had heard Sylvie say those words, he just wanted to hear them over and over and over again. He wanted to say he was in love with her too — because he most likely was — but that one emotionless, cold side of him couldn’t bring himself to admit it. The idea of actually loving somebody was terrifying to Frank — he only knew how to discard somebody and move on to the next. He had abandoned his family without a care in the world to dabble in the criminal life. How was he capable of being in love? He wasn’t a nice person. He wasn’t a good person. Yet, for some reason, he was now suddenly obsessed with the idea of Sylvie being in love with him.
“Why…?” Frank quietly asked. “You’re too… good for me.”
Sylvie reached to gently cup Frank’s face with her hands. “I don’t… care…” She whispered in response. “I can’t… stay away from you…”
“Why…?”
“You’re the… only person… who’s made me feel this way.”
Frank’s eyes widened at Sylvie’s words. “You’ve never…?” He couldn’t grasp the idea that he might’ve just been the only person Sylvie had ever loved.
Sylvie shook her head. “No…”
“We’re just a couple of fuck-ups, aren’t we?” Frank chuckled sardonically, planting another kiss to Sylvie’s lips. “You used to tell me to go fuck myself, y’know… now you love me?”
“Change of heart, I guess.” Sylvie responded half-mockingly, before wrapping her legs around Frank’s waist, trying to be even more physically close to him.
As the thunder outside intensified, Frank felt a sudden jolt of pleasure hit him, and he leaned back a bit, his head resting against the headboard of the bed, his eyes fluttering shut as his grip on Sylvie’s hips tightened even further. Sylvie took the opportunity to unzip Frank’s jacket, sliding it over his shoulders to reveal the white tank top he wore underneath. Then, she leaned forward and began to place feverish kisses along his neck and jawline, just as he had previously done to her. In response, he breathed a sigh of pleasure, giving Sylvie a sudden rush of confidence.
The sensation of Frank gently matching her rhythm underneath her caused Sylvie to feel a sudden shockwave of pleasure shoot throughout her body, and she threw her head back, gently closing her eyes in ecstasy as she let a quiet moan fall from her lips.
Following a sudden crash of thunder, Frank abruptly snapped his hips upwards, grabbing Sylvie’s hips impossibly tighter and pulling her further down onto him. She let out a yelp at the feeling, trying to keep herself stable by gripping onto the headboard with one hand, her other firmly placed on Frank’s chest. “Oh my god…” She whimpered as Frank guided her into a more urgent rhythm, the bed quietly creaking. “I… oh, Jesus…”
Sylvie’s breathing was slowly turning into panting, and she didn’t know how much longer she could continue at this point. Gasping and whimpering, she was slowly unraveling before Frank’s eyes.
Frank was desperately fighting the urge to just flip them over and show Sylvie just how much she really drove him insane. As he opened his eyes, he looked up at her with a wide-eyed gaze of adoration. The way her lips were parted, her eyes closed. Frank didn’t think he had ever seen something so beautiful, until now. It was an image he never wanted to get out of his head, and the sounds she made — they were heavenly.
That was when Frank decided he couldn’t take it anymore, and he quickly pushed Sylvie down onto the bed, quickly climbing on top of her as though he was a predator trying to capture its prey. Sylvie let out a slight gasp of surprise, and seeing the predatory gaze in Frank’s eyes was making her feel something… was it desire?
Without any hesitation, Frank quickly grabbed Sylvie’s chin, tilting it upwards as he began to hungrily kiss her. With his other hand, he firmly grabbed at her, pulling her as close to him as he could as he started deeply rocking his hips against hers. The whole time, he kept a tight grip on her waist, almost as though she’d disappear from him if he let go. Sylvie was so small, so fragile — Frank realized how easy it would be to just manhandle her.
“I love you…” Sylvie whispered against his lips. Now that she had said it once, she couldn’t stop saying it. “I can’t… I can’t get enough of you...”
Sylvie’s vulnerability was ripping Frank to shreds. She really did mean what she was saying, and he couldn’t believe it. Even though he was a piece of shit and had done nothing to earn anything from her, she still loved him. Honestly, he felt… bad for her. There were probably so many people who would be better for her, yet she chose him.
Frank’s kisses wandered down to Sylvie’s jawline, neck, collarbone… he was kissing her all over. Desperate to feel more of her skin against his lips, he quickly pulled her shirt over her head, admiring her body before trailing kisses down her chest. “Why me…?” He murmured against her skin.
“I’ve never… loved somebody before…” Sylvie quietly answered.
“Me neither…” Until Sylvie, but of course he couldn’t bring himself to admit that just yet. Deciding to be a little humorous, Frank smirked against her chest. “You just have a thing for jackasses, huh?”
He wasn’t entirely wrong, either. Sylvie was more drawn to the wrong type of guy — she only knew cruelty, not love.
“Do you… love me?” Sylvie then asked.
The question caught Frank by slight surprise. His eyes met hers, and then he pulled her impossibly closer to him as he continued to slowly move his hips.
Just say it, goddamnit. It’s not that hard.
The way Sylvie was looking into his eyes wasn’t helping. She looked so hopeful. Jesus, how fucking hurt was she to the point she wanted him to love her… out of all people?
Swallowing, he nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. Frank loved her, but in a way he didn’t understand. It was too complicated to explain.
At Frank’s nod, Sylvie pulled him into another kiss, and that was enough to pull Frank out of his inner turmoil, even if just for a little while. He groaned quietly into the kiss, furrowing his brows as he felt his desire for her take hold. His pace gradually became more urgent, and he buried his face in the crook of Sylvie’s neck. She arched her back a bit, nails digging into his back through his tank top as she held onto him. Judging by her gentle whimpers and gasps, Frank could tell she was getting closer to the edge… and he was determined to get her there.
“Mine…” He murmured against her neck, leaving a trail of small bites and desperate kisses once again. “Only mine… only… mine…”
Frank knew he couldn’t hold much longer, either. His movements became more desperate, his nails digging into her hips. He suddenly realized he needed to see Sylvie coming undone on top of him, and he quickly flipped them over again, desperately pulling Sylvie onto him.
Sylvie was just about seeing stars at this point, feeling that familiar tension building up within her abdomen. “I can’t…” She whined. “I… oh my god…”
There was another crack of thunder as the storm grew more intense, and Sylvie frantically kissed Frank to muffle her moans as they both finally let go, continuing to slowly move together as they rode out their intense, shared high, the storm outside only adding to it all.
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