#Mashed up song ideas
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hballegro · 3 months ago
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man if i get good at making silly video edits you'll all be sorry. then ill be able to paint, write, draw, animate, AND make silly videos. it'll be so over
now i need to finish learning juggling. it will complete my character development
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cornerstonc · 2 years ago
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unityrain24 · 6 months ago
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you have no idea the cursed sort of mashups you can come up with when you understand chord progressions. it's raining tacos + pachabels canon + memory maroon 5 + christmas canon medley. angry birds bad piggies + monster imagine dragons medley. my fingers have so much power to curse your ears and soul. and yet it will sound beautiful all the same and you will hate that
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ma1dita · 26 days ago
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Hi Jo! So excited for your monster mash 🥰 Can I get one ticket for the graveyard mash starring Spencer Reid with a 🍫 and 🌭 please. Thank you!
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freaks come out at night
[STARRING: SPENCER REID x reader ; “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” “Please just play along.”] wc: 1.9k warnings: MDNI — afab!reader, semi-public van sex, choking with a belt, no protection p in v, totally against regulation, errrr i saw discourse that spencer doesn’t fuck but with the amount of smut on this hellsite… yeah right. anyways. that man is a freak. consent is sexy, enjoy. title from the whodini song
monster mash-terlist
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
“Excuse me? Mr. Officer?”
Your heels clacking against the pavement catches Reid & Morgan’s attention. It’s dark on the street you’re on, the shadows of your face illuminated by the red and blue hues of light from the squad cars that surround the house where the unsub was apprehended. They've been on this case for a week, and everyone’s ready to shake hands and go home. And so are you, it seems; your confidence always gets you into difficult situations; however, asking cops for a ride home instead of staying with the creep at the club sounds like a better idea.
“Hi sweetheart, what’s wrong? This is a crime scene,” Morgan croons smoothly, leaning against the van as he looks you up and down, “you don’t look like you belong here.” It’s condescending almost, the suave tenor of his voice making you feel like you’re being talked down on.
All you want to do is go home, charge your phone, and go to bed. Spencer is too busy fidgeting with the buttons on his dress shirt as he rolls his sleeves back down to look more professional. But it’s hard to impress a pretty girl in a sparkly dress at three in the morning, especially when you don’t even glance his way.
“Yeah, there’s been this guy following me for a few blocks now. Can I get one of you to drive me home? It’s not too far,” you say dismissively, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picks up. You shiver slightly, hands brushing the skirt of your dress down. Someone calls their attention from near the house, closing down the investigation and Morgan nods lightly with Spencer looking into the distance behind you, trying to find the person giving you trouble.
“Who’s giving you a problem? Want me to talk to him?”
He means it so earnestly, but nothing about Spencer Reid screams intimidating. Tweed blazer, clubmaster glasses, and Converse adorning his frame—-he looks like the kids you knew got bullied in middle school. It makes you giggle, “No offense, you’re not scary, Mr. Officer. Please just play along and let me ride it out.” Morgan hides a smile behind his shoulder and claps Reid on the back as if to say, all yours, pretty boy. You’re pointing at the black van, tapping it with your hand, “This one okay?” But you’ve already opened the door to the passenger seat and climbed in, dress riding up your thighs and giving them a view of your underwear. He swallows hard, looking at his friend who will surely never let him live this down, “Wanna come? I don’t like driving.”
Morgan rolls his eyes at how dumb the smartest man he knows can be when it comes to women, “Just get in the van and take her home, Reid. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” The car keys are thrown (ie. fumbled) into Spencer’s hands as he sighs and walks around the front of the vehicle, mumbling, “Actually, I’m a doctor…”
“Your badge says you’re an agent,” you quip, watching him slide in and start the ignition. He turns the car lights on, looking your way as he pulls out onto the street, “I’m both.” 
Impressive.
Giving him the directions, you sit back and admire the profile of his face in the dark. He’s cute, you suppose—pushing his glasses up to avoid the glare of passing headlights, nose scrunched up in concentration as he tries to not let his mind wander while you tell him about your night.
“Yeah, and then after he was being nice to me, he groped me on the dancefloor. I mean, what a jerk! Can you imagine that, Doctor?”
“Spencer,” he mumbles, making you hum in acknowledgment. And no he cannot. He’s really trying not to. You’re expressive when you speak, hands flying in the air and touching everywhere from the dashboard, to his arm, and then his thigh. His hands clench around the steering wheel, wondering how you’re able to be so blunt with a complete stranger.
“You look like a Spencer.”
“Do I?”
Crossing your legs and leaning against the window to face him more, you look sinful in the passing shadows that blur behind your head. He blinks, reminding himself that he’s in control of the car, and redirects his focus on the road.
“Yeah. Too bad I’m not into nice guys,” you smirk, biting your lip, “Nice guys try to fuck me in public without even asking, apparently.” The car swerves the slightest bit, and neither of you says anything until he pulls into your apartment parking lot.
“Right here should be fine.”
He puts the car into park, lights flicking on as he unlocks the doors and the only thing you can see is his boner straining through the material of his slacks. The sheer sight of it and the hilarity of the situation make you bark out in laughter, “Really? Now? After I tell you about my shitshow of a night, you get hard after hearing that?” His cheeks redden in the dim light as he folds his hands in his lap, sputtering out a response, “I d-didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!”
“I’m not like him, I promise!” But you’re already getting out of the van and Spencer quickly files this into the section of his brain where he keeps suppressed memories because this is humiliating for him, actually— and then you’re opening the door to the backseat.
“Not like what, Spencer?”
His brows furrow as he watches you, frozen and calculating every possible way that tonight will go because it’s rare that Spencer Reid is surprised— “What?”
“Are you a nice guy, or are you a creep?”
And he pushes his glasses up, expression pressed into something you can’t read—maybe it’s something they’ve taught him in the FBI, you think, and he clears his throat, insisting, “I’m a nice guy. I’m one of the good guys.”
“You have terrible timing. Are you moving back here or not? I’m not fucking you in my apartment. I barely know you after all.”
So your confidence does put you into difficult situations. 
But you never thought it would get you bent over and fucked in the back seat of a cruiser with half your body sprawled over the center console. It’s a tight fit, your slick skin sliding against the leather and you don’t suppose a nice guy would do half the things Spencer is doing to you now, and his big hands are gripping the fat of your hips as he watches you bounce on his thick cock with bated breath.
The difference between him and other ‘nice guys’ you’ve encountered is that he’s verbal with his wants and makes sure that you’re enjoying yourself—and despite your eyes rolling to the back of your head and fervent moans, you’re still not sure he believes you.
“Ngh—fuck! Just like that…” you whine as he takes control, maneuvering you so that he can pull you up and down by his hold on your forearms. Spencer eagerly lifts his hips to meet yours, his length pistoning into your tight hole, the sound of skin and squelch echoing through the vehicle as he groans loudly, “This okay? Does this…feel good?”
“More! Mmm…harder, Spencer…I—”
“Not what I was asking, pretty,” he pants, thrusting into your soaked pussy with a jolt and stopping. Your cheek smacks against the gear shift and you cry, knees going weak at the sound of his voice, “I said, is this okay?”
“Yes! Stop asking!”
He slams into you again at the sound of your agreement, your belly hitting the console and squeezing around his cock as you lay there almost begging for him to do it again. But spit drips down the side of your mouth, along with the words you can’t string into a coherent sentence. The material of your dress is bunched around your torso, and his hands slither up your spine, feeling the way you breathe under his touch; you can’t see him from here but you know he’s smiling.
“I need to hear it, pretty girl,” he coos, tracing the letters of his name across your shoulder blades, and all you can do is laugh.
“Yes, your cock feels really good,” you hum, looking back at him and biting your lip, “In fact, you could go harder. You’ddo that for me, wouldn’t you, Mr. Nice Guy?”
“Doctor Reid…” 
He’s breathing heavily at your stare, noting the streaks of mascara down your cheeks and how your eyes seem to glint at him in the moonlight. So he yanks you up into the backseat with him, pressing you into the same position; ass up and face down and you shiver at the sound of his belt buckle clinking in the dark, “What are you doing?” you mumble, catchingyour breath while you can.
“M’gonna choke you if that’s okay.” 
It sounds so innocent coming out of his mouth and you’re grinning at the feeling of leather wrapping around your neck, fastened tight but not so much so that you’ll asphyxiate. You know he’ll be taking your breath away regardless, and he’s whispering into the shell of your ear, asking if you’re comfortable and pressing a soft kiss that feels incandescent against your skin.
One of Spencer’s hands spreads your cheeks open for his dick to make its way through your warm flesh, arching your back into his hold as the other hand tugs on the belt to pull you up. The choked sound that leaves your lungs is so filthy he has to try not to cum right then and there. 
“Please,” you whine, wiggling your hips as your hand slips down the glass pane, “Need you to fuck me.” Every inch that slides in has you moaning louder, and Spencer’s the one laughing now, “Should I still ask if you’re doing okay?”
“Oh…Just fuck me already Spencer!”
His jaw clenches as he starts fucking himself into your warmth, one hand on your shoulder and the other wrapped around his belt making you wheeze. Your ass shakes with the car, the force of his cock pounding into you with vigor, and Spencer moans, “F-fuck! You’re shaking…” His balls clap against the plump of your body as your throat feels the pressure of his efforts, and big hands pull you into a seated position so he can get a better look at your face. It’s puffed up with the lack of air and your pupils are unfocused, fucked stupid, and happy at the feeling of his rigid cock against the soft of your walls, mumbling incoherently as your eyes connect.
“Yes, yes, yes…So fucking deep…”
Spencer slides his hand around your torso, putting his fingers beneath sweaty fabric so he can touch your skin, thumb rubbing against your belly button and tongue licking up the side of your collarbone, still rocking into you as he loses it, finally letting go of the belt. You fall over with a shaking gasp and hear him groan, hot spurts of cum painting your motionless back. Noticing the car windows are foggy, you smile to yourself. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? Reaching down to grab your underwear, you stop when you feel Spencer delicately wiping his cum off you with a handkerchief.
“Mmm. You really are a nice guy.”
He helps you readjust your clothes first before his, “I told you that.” It’s quiet in the car again, and you’re not sure what to say, but there’s no point in being shy now.
“You wanna see my apartment?” you muse, smiling sweetly at him, and he quirks his brow, “I thought you didn’t let strangers into your apartment.”
“I think we’re past that, don’t you?”
Spencer doesn't make it back to the hotel until right before check out the next morning.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!
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kikidoesfanfic · 5 months ago
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Sleep talking, sweet talking
For the @strangerthingswritersguild demogorgon daily prompt 'Love is love'
Ao3
"S'in the drawer." Steve mumbles, "with the... s'with the bear."
Eddie blinks awake, squinting over Steve's hair at their little alarm clock. 3am.
"Nn, no, s'are my french fries." Eddie sits up a bit, Steve doesn't talk in his sleep often, but when he does it's always a golden opportunity to ask him ridiculous questions, and Eddie's not one to squander opportunities. "He wants tots."
"Sure, everyone likes tater tots, hey Stevie, who's your favorite kid?" He asks this one every time, he rarely gets the same answer twice in a row.
"Lucas," he says.
"Why is Lucas your favorite kid Stevie?"
"S'got a Nintendo." Eddie has to bite down on his lips hard to stop himself from laughing. Thankfully Steve sleeps on soundly through the little wheezes that escape.
"He does indeed," Eddie says when he has better control of himself. "What do you want for your birthday, baby?" It's coming up after all, maybe he can get some extra ideas.
"Mmm rocket ships."
"Is that right?"
"M'gonna be an astronaut."
"Sounds good, Stevie, you better make room to take me with you though." He says, with a smile in his voice.
"Inna suitcase."
"Sure, sure, very comfortable. Hey honey, what kind of animal do you think I am?"
"No they'll eat all our cake." He mumbles, so Eddie rephrases.
"What kind of animal would Eddie be, Stevie?"
"S'a raccoon. Lil- lil raccoon hands, lit'l raccoon man." He croons, and Eddie smiles at him indulgently, he's cute, and Eddie is going to tease him mercilessly. "Feral lil... jus'a lil guy."
"Yeah, that tracks, bet the eyeliner helps huh. Would you still love me if I was a worm baby?"
"Mm? It's green."
"It's important, Stevie." He sing songs, trying to get his attention when he doesn't get a response, "Steeeeevie, Steve, sweetheart, baby, love, daaaarling."
"Mm?" Steve questions, face mashed into his own arm. There're creases in his skin from his pillow, his hair is a birds nest, and there's a veritable lake of drool just in front of him where it's pooled off the edge of his bicep onto the fabric. It's gross. He's beautiful.
"Would you still love me if I was a worm, Stevie?" He asks again.
"Mm'yeah," Steve sighs out, smushing his cheek against his arm harder.
"Really, just like that?" Eddie snuggles him carefully closer, pulling him onto his own pillow where it's dry, "what if I was all slimy and ugly?"
"Mm'nah, Robin says." Steve says, matter of fact.
"Robin says?" He prompts.
"All th'time."
"What does Robin say, sweetheart?"
"Love s'love." Eddie can't help himself this time, the laugh bursts out of his chest, bright and loud, startling Steve awake.
"Wh- Eddie?" Steve groans, pushing himself up groggily, "s'going on?"
"It's nothing, love, I'm sorry," he soothes, bringing Steve's head back down onto his chest this time. "I'll tell you in the morning, okay?" Steve blinks at him, eyes half open, assessing.
"Okay," he agrees, going easily and rubbing his face into Eddie's chest. There'll be drool there by morning, Eddie can't find it in himself to care.
"Goodnight, Stevie." Eddie says, kissing his hair, already thinking about where to buy Steve a toy rocket ship and the ugliest raccoon plush he can find for his birthday. "Sweet dreams."
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sunrizef1 · 3 months ago
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big reputation pt 3
Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader
Warnings: Kelly piquet? Slight violence, canon divergent (Logan has a seat lmfao)
Authors Note: from now on every fic I post will be considered a period piece because I am NOT taking Logan out of that seat.
Pt1 Pt2
yourusername
📍Cardiff, Wales
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liked by lewishamilton formulaone and 25,888,007 others
yourusername Cardiff, you were wonderful!!!!! We had never played a show in Wales before but we will definitely be back again! We all had a great time ✨ Thank you so much for coming out and having the night of your lives with me, I'm so grateful for every single one of you! 🖤 I’ll see you soon, Edinburgh…📸
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user1 I love you queen
user2 guys… I miss the drivers
user3 they miss one show like every two weeks and y'all say this every time 😭😭😭
user3 and they'll probably be back next week in Hungary anyway! 😭
user2 but that's like only one or two drivers or just their girlfriends or just f1-related people, its not the same 😭 I need them all together again 😭🙏
user4 my show 🥰
user5 we need more shows in wales…
yourusername ...✌️
user5 TWO??? AS IN LEG 2??? MORE CARDIFF SHOWS NEXT YEAR???
user6 RATATATATATATATATATATATA
user7 the camera emoji after Edinburgh??? And the dots?? …Ready for it? Music video announcement in Edinburgh???
charles_leclerc ✨🖤
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user8 Logan going out of his way to make it to Cardiff... Not beating the boyfriend allegations
user9 THIS WAS MY SHOWWWWW
fernandoaloofficial Very good!!! 👍 🖤
yourusername thank you, Nando 🫶🏻
user10 🐍🐍🐍
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oscarpiastri
damn he really is down bad
I'm assuming you mentioned the flowers once and he immediately bought them for you?
yourusername
That would be correct, yes
oscarpiastri
thought so 🙂‍↕️
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yourusername
📍Antwerp, Belgium
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liked by landonorris killatrav and 15,888,777 others
yourusername Antwerp!!! This was one of the greatest shows of my life, the crowd was absolutely electric!!! We also got a rain show, which are always my favorites ☔ We also introduced my new favourite idea, mashing-up surprise songs, which is something I am so excited to continue and you all seemed very excited so I am thrilled!! 🫶
Next up, Amsterdam ☝️ 🇳🇱🇳🇱
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user11 WOOOOOOO
user12 I was there 🙂‍↕️🙏
landonorris ✨
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user13 guyssss I got mine x stay stay stay!!!! We won! 🥰
user14 I 🫶 rain shows
user15 guys notice how there's three exclamation marks… twice… 3… 3… 33… max’s old number… and then the ☝️ emoji… its a 1… max’s current number… Netherlands is next… she uses two exclamation marks at the end… two Dutch flags… Logans number is two…
user16 are you mentally okay
user15 no
user17 no drivers… what if I kms
user18 but we got the wags!!! 🥰
user17 and if I said y/n was the one true wag
user17 what then
user18 you would be correct 🙂‍↕️ 2️⃣🇺🇸
user19 wait the surprise song thing is so cute!!!!
user20 she's so prettyyyyy
lilymhe 💋💋💋
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user21 I was here!!! When I tell you everyone gasped so hard when she started singing stay stay stay in the middle of mine, we were all screaming!!!
user22 LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO
alexandrasaintmleux ❤️
yourusername ❤️
user23 girl I did not know mash-ups were an option 😭
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alexandrasaintmleux
The best trio 🥰
yourusername
Correct 🤭🙂‍↕️
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lilymhe
I'm so glad you're here 😭😭😭
yourusername
Me too 😭😭😭
lilymhe
I need you back in Williams ☹️
yourusername
Soon…🤭
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logansargeant
Repping Ferrari today….
Betrayal doesnt look cute on you
yourusername
you'll be okay darling 💋
logansargeant
No ☹️
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fernandoalo_official
Stay safe mija
you're going behind enemy lines
yourusername
Lol, thanks Nando
I'll be safe
fernandoalo_official
Just look out for anyone in orange….
They're a suspicious bunch
yourusername
I will 🫡
fernandoalo_official
Good 👍
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MESSAGES
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yourusername
📍Amsterdam, Netherlands
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liked by alex_albon alexandrasaintmleux and 21,008,008 others
yourusername Amsterdam, you were so lovely!!! I'll admit I was a little nervous for these two shows but you all showed me so much kindness and these crowds will definitely go down as two of my favourites of all time 🫶 I had a really great time and I really felt so connected to every person in that stadium, I can't thank you enough for everything 🤍
But these shows made me realize how much we've grown this past year. Reputation was such a scary project for me and the reception from you all was so much better than I expected. Its been a year of love and I'm so thankful that you've stuck by me, you don't know how much it means 🤍🫶
So thank you to the drivers, to my friends and family, to the crew, to Jack, to Lewis, Charles and Logan and, most of all, to you, the fans. I love you 🤍
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user24 wait night one was wild
user25 as someone who was night one, the atmosphere when people found max was crazy 😭😭😭 so much yelling 😭
user26 RIGHT like I was upper bowl and had no idea what everyone was yelling about 😭
user27 IS THAT LAST PICTURE HER BF
user27 FOLLOW UP QUESTION: IS THAT LOGAN
user28 LMAO the middle finger in the last picture, she really hates max 😭
user29 why did she talk about love so much during the show and then in the caption…
user30 conspiracy theory: its their anniversary
lilymhe 💋💋💋
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user31 that second pic is so cute 🥹
lewishamilton thanks for the shoutout 😎
yourusername thank YOU for everything lew 🤍
user32 out of all the drivers she chose to name three specifically: Lewis (who featured on the album and also has producer credits), Charles (who featured and has all the piano credits), and Logan, (who…. Was the muse for the album???)🫣
user33 wait why is no one talking about how crazy the max thing is
user34 yeah every ones talking about Logan but the m*x appearance is actually insane behaviour
user35 girl I read jack and fully thought she meant doohan 😭
user36 WAIT who did she mean??? I also thought she meant doohan 😭😭😭
user35 jack antonoff girl 😭
fernandoalo_official proud of you mija ❤️
yourusername thank you Nando 🤍
user36 I adore them 😭
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yourusername
📍Las Vegas, Nevadaa
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liked by logansargeant charles_leclerc and 32,008,998 others
yourusername about a year and a half ago, I thought my life was over. I was betrayed by the very same people I thought were my forever.
But, after months of hiding, I ran into you at a dive bar deep in the city of Miami and suddenly my forever was you. You were in your buzzcut phase and I had just bleached my hair. You recognized me, of course. We'd met a couple of times and I'd always thought kindly of you. We started to talk and hours passed without us even noticing. I'm not sure where your friends had gone but looking back at it now, I'm glad they left because I can't imagine the conversation we had being joined by other people. It was already vaguely awkward enough.
I wasn't exactly lighting up the room that night. It had been a rough couple of months and I'd only gone out in hopes of finding a sliver of happiness. Thank god I did because it brought me to now, where I'm the happiest I've ever been. It brought me to you.
You, my love, are so wonderful and beautiful and talented and I honestly can't believe you're mine. Thank you so much for sticking beside me and becoming my forever muse. I could go on and on about the lyrics I've written about you but I think I'll just keep that for the next album 🫣
We went from hiding out in hotel rooms, curtains drawn tightly so paparazzi couldn't see and taking back roads to the studio to avoid anyone who might recognize us to you coming to every single show and me getting to sing to you and every single night.
From the new years parties in New York to the bouquets in Dublin and to the rings in Las Vegas 💍, I love you forever, Lo 🤍
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user37 AWWWWWWWWWW
user38 THIS IS INSANEEEEE
user39 the hardest of hard launches!!! 🥰
user40 WAIT WHAT
lilymhe congratulations love! No one deserves this happiness more than you 🤍🥰
yourusername lilyyyy 🥹🫶
user41 IM SOBBING MY PARENTSSSSSS
user42 THE CLIP OF CHARLES CRYING AFTER SHE SHOWS THE RING?????? MEEEEE
charles_leclerc congrats ange, so happy for you ❤️
yourusername forever grateful for your super secret spy work last year, none of this could’ve happened without you 🤍
charles_leclerc 🫡
user42 OHHHHH Charles was digging for info on max that’s why he was friends with him last year 😭
lancestroll 🥳🥳🥳
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user43 this is adorable 🥹
alexandrasaintmleux me and Lily are planning the bachelorette party as we speak 🥳🎉
yourusername as long as you guys are there it will be perfect 🥹🤍
user44 AWWWWWWW OMG
carlossainz congrats!! 😎💍
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landonorris LETS GOOOOO
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oscarpiastri now that you're engaged I can finally yell you that he's legit had a crush on you for years. I couldnt get away from the sound of him playing Fearless over and over and over again
yourusername he's adorable. And it sounds like you're… complaining????
oscarpiastri nope ofc not, fearless is great, aoty for a reason, best country album of all time, I'd never complain 🙂‍↔️🫡
yourusername thanks osc 🤍
alex_albon did u like ur proposal…? 😽
yourusername I've been informed of your involvement and am pleased to tell you that the proposal was wonderful. Thank you Alex 🫶
alex_albon well flowers can't arrange themselves 🫡 congrats y/n
alex_albon we’re grateful to have you in the Williams family 🤍
user45 my forever muse 😭
user46 the parallels between this caption and the five year one for m*x 😭
logansargeant you’re the love of my life and I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had together 🤍 I love you so much darling and I’m so proud to get the honor of calling you my wife 🤍🤍🤍 😊
yourusername love you lo 🤍🥹
user47 oh my god they’re so in love, I’m so happy that y/n got to have this relationship after everything with max 🥹🤍
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yourusername
My forever boy 💍
logansargeant
I love you baby 🤍😊
yourusername
I love you too 🤍🥹
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manikas-whims · 5 months ago
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Hi hi!💕 can i request headcanons of sth like "What if we, reader, find a kitten in the rain (& the lads men reactions)" if possible n tyyyy😊
omg this is such a cute idea 🥹 thanks for requesting this ♡ and i hope you like these!
LADS men react to you taking in a kitten
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ZAYNE
❄️ Zayne’s eyes are literally sparkling when he walks into your house and sees the kitten. From the way he balls his palms into fists, you can tell just how much he wants to approach it but the kitten hisses at him and hides behind the sofa.
❄️ As usual, the kitten is afraid of him. And it saddens you because his evol aside, Zayne is such a warm person, and deserves nothing but affection.
❄️ You bring out some snacks and feed the kitten. Then encourage Zayne to try it too.
❄️ He is hesitant but tries. Yet the kitten doesn't approach him like it does when you're feeding it.
❄️ Next he tries tossing it near him. The kitten is cautious, waiting for a while before running on its tiny, shaky feet towards the treat, and eating it. This isn't a big leap but it's better than nothing, and Zayne can't help but smile at this small victory.
❄️ Few more hours in, you pick up the kitten from your own lap and drop it into Zayne’s. He's fidgeting, unsure of where to put his hands. “I don't think this will work.” He says.
❄️ “Just stay calm.” You tell him. “Animals tend to read emotions. If you're scared, it'll be scared too.”
❄️ Its funny watching the usually calm and collected doctor struggling with something so small it can fit in his coat’s pocket.
❄️ Tentatively he runs a finger over the kitten’s lil head. It flinches initially, then relaxes. Stunned, Zayne stares at you.
❄️ You giggle at the disbelief on his face and encourage him to go on.
❄️ “Okay.” He nods like an obedient child and tries again. This time he scratches behind its ears, and to his immense surprise and exhilaration, the kitten mewls and purrs.
❄️ Zayne looks up at you as if you to say “look! i did it!”
❄️ You pat his back with pride and smile.
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XAVIER
⭐ Like usual, Xavier stops by your home one evening because he's run out of food, and you are generous enough to share your amazing cooking with him.
⭐ Only this time, he finds a little kitten wreaking havoc around your living room. Toppling things from the tables, sharpening its claws on the couch, biting your slippers..you name it!
⭐ You look at him with what you believe is your most convincing pleading expression. He chuckles in response and decides to help out.
⭐ Within minutes he has captured the feline outlaw and to your utter disbelief, the kitten is now seated peacefully in Xavier's lap, making biscuits in the fabric of his sweatpants.
⭐ He did say that little animals love to flock around him but seeing is believing. And no matter how many times you see it happen, you're still a little shocked at how easy it is for him. He's like a disney princess who can sing songs and summon animals into doing his bidding.
⭐ You are used to Xavier showing up at your door for food, so you already had extra prepared. You made sure to add in some meat dishes since Xavier loves those.
⭐ Now as Xavier eats his share, he occasionally offers the kitten small, mashed chunks of meat. And looking at the two side by side, you can't distinguish between them. It's as if you have two cats in your life, except one of them is bigger, stronger and loves fighting wanderers.
⭐ Xavier takes note of your smile and blinks at you. “What is it?”
⭐ “Nothing.” You simply giggle and teasingly rub his head.
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RAFAYEL
🌊 Rafayel is merely passing by the area and so he decides to check up on you. He has brought you food from the finest of places in Linkon. But the moment you let him in, he almost jumps at the sight of a kitten rolling on the floor.
🌊 “Why would you feed this little demon?” He is curling his lips in disgust, standing behind you to shield himself from the so-called “demon”.
🌊 His dislike and anxious behaviour spurs the kitten as well, and it hisses at him. Of course Rafayel hisses back.
🌊 It takes a lot of patience and breathing exercises for you to separate them and make them understand they aren't a threat to one another.
🌊 Surprisingly, the kitten is the first one to make peace. That, and it kinda likes Rafayel’s perfume. It meows and tries rubbing its tiny body against his white pants. And for a moment, Rafayel seems to be accepting the gesture. Then he realises his white pants might get dirty and steps away.
🌊 He won't admit it out loud but he's starting to warm his heart to the tiny feline. The kitten is basically his baby now.
🌊 “I got some toys for the demon!” He announces as he randomly shows up at your house with a variety of toys. If you point it out he'll tell you otherwise but he definitely has a happy grin when he sees the kitten playing with the toys. However, he’ll get equally annoyed if the kitten doesn’t play with them after all the money and time he spent on buying them.
🌊 “You’ve grown quite close.” You comment airily.
🌊 “You’re sorely mistaken.” He’s immediately scooting away from the small being but also waving a bell around it. “We are natural enemies.”
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SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.
» MASTERLIST «
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iwrite-sinsandtragedies · 3 months ago
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Day 1 — Soulmates ₊˚✧ ゚
Submission for @goldengroovy's @olnfweek2024
MC: Micha
Long ass ramble under the cut 😂
Okayokayokay SO-
I love soulmate au's. I cannot tell you how many fics I've read or how many prompts I've played with or media I've consumed or how many bullshit ideas I've come up with in my own head for them, I CANNOT.
It's just - hhhhhhhhhhhh- Soulmate au's and Time Travel au's are just the shit that gets me out of bed some days 😩💖my world weary soul drinks that shit like medicine, okay?
That all being said, it's probably a little ambiguous which au I picked to some, so let me explain: There are two au's I'm mashing up here really, both are from fics I've read back in the day. One being a Clack fic and the other a Thilbo one 🤷‍♂️kind of calling myself out here but w/e, they were good fics.
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The Thilbo one is easier to explain - the concept is "Heartsong" which is, literally what it says on the tin. You find out who your soulmate is the first time you hear them sing (and no, that does not mean everyone is just a naturally good singer - they can be ass at music but, the point is, when you hear them their song is the perfect song for you and your heart knows that). There's a lot of little nuances to this one - things like you hearing your heartsong when you dream so you always know the moment you find them. Also people who have quiet dreams because their heartsong died, sometimes before ever even meeting them. etc etc. The heartsong also seems to expand, in some respect, to instruments (as Thorin plays his harp one night and Bilbo starts to hum without thinking about it because it sounds wonderful to him and that's how Thorin finds out).
Overall, it's a very soft and sweet concept to me and as someone who has a deep love of music, it's also one of my very favourites.
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The Clack one is a little less easy to explain? I think. Maybe because it's nuances are so round about but I'll do my best. The concept for this one is "I Only See Colour When I'm With You" - anyone who knows how Clack fics usually go knows where this is probably headed 😂 and I am sorry to have hurt you but, overall, the idea is: You live in a noir-esqu world where everything is black and white. This only changes when you find your soulmate, of course, who brings the world into full saturation and lets you see colour for - possibly - the first time in your life (I say possibly because I genuinely can't remember if you start out colourblind or if it's an age cap thing).
Unfortunately, for as much as I adore this concept, it's been a long damn time since I read the fic and I don't even know if it still exists somewhere. So I can't actually recall if it was a 'you have to touch them' or 'you have to hear them' thing but the fic takes place with Zack on the cliff right before Midgar where he holds Cloud and looks at the sky - so I'm willing to bet it's a touch thing.
I also really loved this fic because it was the first one I'd read that brought in the concept of multiple soulmates to me - As Cloud later sits with Aerith and sees the colour he couldn't see with Zack, meanwhile Aerith only sees black and white, because she was only able to see colour with Zack (who was never able to see colour with her, because he needed Cloud for that).
Essentially, they all needed each other to see the world in colour. As a polyam person who didn't quite realise I was poly back then, it was a very comforting (and now dearly cherished) fic.
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Anyways! Now that you have the background on the two concepts, you can kind of get what I'm going for with this piece.
Tamarack, Micha and Qiu are all soulmates in a fuzzy, desaturated world (I'm sorry, I'm not cruel enough to but them in complete greyscale LOL) and the way you find your soulmate is by hearing them sing and, when they do, your world is suddenly vivid and bright and beautiful. Suddenly, you can see things as they were meant to be seen and it's a permanent change (unlike the Clack fic) but things are always clearest and brightest when your soulmate speaks or sings 💖
I get a real kick out of the idea that Micha's known for fucking months that Tamarack is his soulmate (if not years) because he's always listening to her play but never says jack shit about it because he's emotionally constipated that way 😂Though genuinely, it's probably because he just doesn't think he's her soulmate and he's a bit against finding out he's right honestly.
Joke is on him, he's Qiu's and Tamaracks soulmate! And he couldn't have picked a better moment to grow a pair an take the risk 🥰
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lexirosewrites · 1 month ago
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Because the break in slick Sunday, one that I completely understand, I thought I'd give an idea. I don't often write omega verse but I love slick Sunday so much.
A small idea based losely 50 first dates.
O!Steve who after one too many hits to the head loses his short term memory. He can go a couple days before he forgets and reverts back to before the accident but the record is only 4 days. He spends his days with Robin who takes care of him and documents everything she can for him. Everyday Steve relearns his life but one day he bumps into rockstar A!Eddie.
Their scents mash so well (whether scent mates are real or they just love each other's scents) that they fall in love then and there. But Steve knows he probably won't remember it the next day, so he tries to cram everything he can into that one day with Eddie. Eddie is so taken with his omega who is so outgoing and seems carefree. He doesn't know that it's because Steve wants all he can from Eddie before the alpha realizes it's too much work to deal with someone who'll never keep their memory of their love.
They share a passionate night together and Steve is grateful to wake up knowing this man. Eddie is more than happy to take Steve with him to his show and gives him backstage passes for him and Robin. The day is just as meaningful but Robin reminds him that it's better if he just tells the alpha than lead him on like this.
Steve is too selfless that he decides to cut their losses. He takes one final hot makeout session before telling Eddie he was gonna go home with Robin. Eddie's understanding, knowing he can't take over the omegas life.
Then he realizes he never got Steves number. But as creepy as it makes him feel, he does know where Steve lives from sleeping with him that first night. So he buys flowers and ends up Steve's doorstep. The omega opens up but he doesn't recognize Eddie. Not really, but the smell, the smell he recognizes. He lets Eddie in and sits him down at the table. He shows him the small video Robin made him to play for himself every morning that tells him about his condition and what year/how old he is.
Steve's scent is anxious as he apologizes and tells Eddie how he woke up with his scent in his nest but nothing else. That his scent makes Steve feel safe in a way he's never felt with anyone other than his pack. But that's when Robin comes down from her room and sighs at the sight of Eddie. She asks Steve to let them chat and Steve quietly goes up to his room, taking time to check in on the other videos his kids made to keep him up to date with their lives.
Eddie and Robin talk and Robin tells him that Steve knew he could never have Eddie and figured he would be too much if he told him. So he just decided to let him go live his life without an amnesiac holding him back. Robin tells him that it's okay and she will always be here for Steve. That he could go right now and no one would blame him. He's got a great life and Steve, Steve lives a quiet life with struggles everyday.
Eddie leaves confused and heartbroken. But after spending the day with the band and looking at the guys he grew up with. Who all found love, he knows that love isn't easy. So, the next day he returns and Steve greets him with no recollection of the past day. Eddie explains that he's an alpha that's been seeing Steve and he was hoping to talk to re-introduce himself to Steve. Steve is shocked and let's him in, having recognized the scent on his sheets. Robin's there and just as shocked as Steve but Eddie stays and shows that he cares.
He still has more tour but he starts making his own videos but his videos are always just him and band. But after tour is over, it's always of him and Steve, in love with each other. He writes music and performs his songs that will always be for Steve. And after a while Steve begins to go with and have adventures everyday. Documenting their live and sharing it with his pack.
And every single day, Eddie proves he loves this man and he always will
i’m gonna sob
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I took a little journey to the unknown—
And I've come back changed, I can feel it in my bones.
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Meet me in the woods tonight // Glacier Bay National park, AK.
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hustlerose · 2 months ago
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so i'm fascinated by that one video that mashes up the silent hill soundtrack with the "eating a burger with no honey mustard" clip. i think it's a genuinely great musical experience
the vocal loop has a lot of rhythmic and melodic contour to it, and it holds your attention with its simplicity. the ambient chords underneath it are soft and smooth, like rushing waves. even though both parts loop at uneven times, they both have somewhat fluid time feels, so it's easy to let yourself float across the polyrythm they create together
it's actually super inspiring as a musician. looping a found vocal sample over ambient pads is a really neat idea with a lot of potential
i've had this video on loop for half an hour before without getting bored. and i don't think i'm the only one!
so i made a playlist with a few songs that remind me of this wonderful video. if you know any others, please share them on this post :)
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months ago
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At First Sight 1
Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Plus!short!reader)
Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
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You are so drunk. Not just tipsy, you are loaded. The lights glare fuzzily around you as bass thumps in the floor and into your body. As you sway and rock to the music, you barely remember where you, hardly recognise the faces of your own friends.
Rhonda is entwined with a guy, so close they may as well kiss, and Starla is just as shameless with the pretty redhead she pulled from across the floor. As usual, you're the odd one out, but you don't mind. You're having a blast. You're so blitzed, you can't be anything close to lonely.
You throw your arms up as your favourite Beyonce song blares on. Rhonda entangles herself with her boy toy completely, tongues desperately mashing together, and Starla has her arm over the redhead's shoulders as she points to the bar, walking in that direction. As you turn to watch her go, your back collides with another body.
Before you can apologise, two hips curl around your hips. You squirm, unused to touch. Insecure as even the large paws that have accosted you can't make you feel waifish like your gorgeous friends.
"Hey," the grizzly voice undercuts the music, "how ya doin', honeybee?"
You blink, clueless as to what to do. You look at Rhonda but she's consumed by her partner and Starla's still off getting a refill. You touch the man's wrist but quickly recoil. How do you do this?
"Honeybee?" You force your voice put to compete with the music.
"Mmm, yeah, you look sweet," he growls as he squeezes your hips tighter, pulling you back against him, "sorry, not mucha a dancer."
"Oh, um," you look up, trying to see him over your shoulder, "uh, me either."
"Look good to me," he counters as his hot breath seeps into your scalp and he inhales, as if catching your scent, "you smell sweet too, honeybee."
Your body is both alight with flames and stringent with ice. You try to sway but he's planted firmly. You gently touch his hand again, and manage to turn yourself to face him. His grip hovers on your hips.
"Should we start with names?" You smile shyly as you get a look at him. You're nervous as he peers back. You hope he's not disappointed.
"Mm, I like ya just as much from the front," he winks, "name's Sy."
"Sy," you repeat before you give your own name.
He's not bad on the eyes, tall, broad, and bright blue eyes. His beard's a bit thick for your liking but you’re not picky. You can't really be.
"You want another drink?" He offers as his hands run up to your waist and your catch them, squiriming.
"Sure," you accept, hoping to get at least a little space so you can get your head straight.
"Alright, honeybee," he purrs and draws his touch away, only to turn and put his hand on the small of your back, "you like the sweet drinks?"
"Uh, yeah, I don't mind cocktails," you agree, cringing at your own awkwardness.
"You're cute," he says as he urges you through the crowd, "I like that."
You stagger drunkenly but don't fall. You try to play off your little stumble and he slips his hand across your back to grip your waist and pull you closer.
As you near the bar, Starla detaches herself with a fresh drink of her own. She notices Sy and raises her brows before sticking out her tongue. Her other hand is around the redhead's as she tug her back toward the dancefloor.
The man easily bulls his way through the crowd around the bar and signals at the bartender. As she nears, he turns back to you.
"What d'ya want?" He asks.
"Rum and coke is fine," you answer with your default. Usually you just get whatever the others get.
He turns back and issues his order to the bartender. He waits, tapping his fingers on the leather trim until the drinks appear. He pays and says some unheard words to the bartender. He takes the glasses and turns, offering you the dark rum and coke.
Your stomach gurgles as you accept it. You only really get a free drink out of pity. One of Rhonda or Starla's hookups feel like they have to me nice to the 'other one'. More than the anxiety, the unreadiness, it's the alcohol already swishing around in your gut.
He sidles you along the bar to an empty space. He sips from a pint of amber bear, the foam sticking in his beard around his mouth. He wipes it away with the back of his hand.
"You from around here, honeybee?"
"Um, lived here a few years, yeah."
"Whatcha doin' in a place like this?"
You sip, more nervous than thirsty. Ugh, it's strong. He wouldn't order a double.
"We're just about to graduate," you chime brightly, happy to have something to talk about. "Yeah, fourth years over, exams are all done..."
"Smart girl," he remarks, eyes sparkling. “Bet ya can guess I'm a bit past all that.”
He brushes his hand over his beard, a few grays catching the lights as the change hues. He doesn't look that old. And you don't have to do anything more than talk to him. You're not the type to go home with a stranger. Not that you ever had the chance.
“I didn't– well, what do you do?” You ask evasively. You take another gulp.
“Military,” he answers bluntly, “can't say much more than that, ya know. Confidential stuff.”
“Oh,” you can't help your surprise. You feel even more out of your depth. “That's interesting.”
“Nah, sweet thing like you don't care about war stuff. Ugly business,” he dismisses, “how your drink then, honeybee?”
“Um,” you look down. It even smells strong. “It's good. Thank you.”
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goldsainz · 1 year ago
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GUESS WHO’S BACK? — one shot.
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pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader
MASTERLIST.
NOTE: first of i wanna say that this is not meant to diminish the treatment nyck got bc it is undoubtedly shitty (helmut marko you will pay for your crimes), i am just happy one of my fav drivers is back. this is eminem!daughter!reader an idea @lorarri let me use, all the lyrics and song she came up with are fantastic, i couldn’t have made this without them, so thank you lola!!!!
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liked by danielricciardo, eminem and 3,082,719 others
yourusername i am so excited to announce my newest album “BADGER BEWARE”!! this project has been in the making for quite some time, it has the help of people i am very close with. and inspirations behind a lot of impacting moments in my life. which is why i am so happy that it is finally here and you can all enjoy it july 13th
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ynfan1 oh this is so about daniel
ynfan2 NEW MUSIC FINALLY😭😭
danielricciardo 💛💛💛
liked by yourusername and 96,053 others
⤷ danielfan1 acting as if the album isn’t gonna be dedicated to him
icespice gonna be bomb 🔥
scottyjames31 Claiming track 3 right now
⤷ danielricciardo No, it’s already claimed. Pick another.
ynfan3 july 13th cannot come any sooner
danielfan2 i hope y/n knows that she just sent me into cardiac arrest
danielfan3 MONZA MASH??? YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE MADE A SONG FOR HIS WIN IN MONZA
ynfan4 thank you eminem for the blessing that is y/n🙏
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liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 3,950,416 others
yourusername “BADGER BEWARE” is out now in all streaming platforms! i wanna take a moment to thank all the people who made this album possible, to the man who inspired this project and sat with me until sunrise writing down lyrics, to my friends who participated and helped me push through, but especially to all my fans who waited patiently for me to release my music in my own time. have fun and pls don’t take what i talk about too seriously (or do 😉)
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danielricciardo I would sit until sunrise every day with you
⤷ yourusername love the sentiment but you were asleep 90% of the time
⤷ danielricciardo But I was still there!
ynfan21 RED WINGS IS WILD
ynfan22 album of the year!!!
danielfan21 oh so this is a diss track to mclaren…
redbullracing Our playlist has been updated!
liked by yourusername and 107,368 others
ynfan23 when we needed her most she appeared🙏
ynfan24 damn she did not hold back
danielfan22 DANIEL AND Y/N BEST COUPLE ON THE GRID
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“Show-stopping” is the expression Y/N wants to convey each time she sits down and starts to write her songs. It is a “big word”, as she puts it, but there is no other word that would fit the feeling she hopes to transmit through her music.
“I started writing “BADGER BEWARE” back in 2021, I think around august, and by the end of that year I had written 3 songs. I stopped writing because I thought of either scrapping the whole project or making a 4-5 song EP. Obviously that didn’t end up happening because now there are 10 songs, 1 intro and 1 outro. All those songs hold a different place in my heart and while they all form part of the genre of Rap, they’re heartfelt in their own special way.”
Rap is a genre Y/N is all too familiar with. With her father being Eminem, an icon to the genre and the 2000s — even now. She says that the choice is not arbitrary, that there is an influence she cannot deny, but chooses to embrace it rather than push it away.
She dedicated the album to her boyfriend of 3 years, Daniel Ricciardo, who was the initial inspiration behind it. “Danny listened to me rant about my ideas for hours, sat in different studios with me and suggested different things that made the whole experience different than anything I’d ever done before. He also introduced me to — now one of my good friends — Charles Leclerc, who plays piano and is the one that composed the music for both the intro and outro.”
When asked about her favourite songs she picked a couple because “there is no way I could choose just one”. There is an evident passion to her craft when it comes to Y/N, something not everyone in her field possesses quite as well as she does.
“HONEY, RED WINGS and SUMMER SMILE are probably my top 3. They were all written at such drastically different points of my life, about things that have practically nothing to do with each other but that are tied by a little string. Some people think I pick my singles because they’re my favourite, which is true because all my songs are my favourites! But most of all I pick them because they’re the ones that I felt most comfortable publicising, all the other songs in the album are like a little secret between my fandom and me.
“There are also songs which are more personal. MONZA MASH, for example, it’s a very hyper song but it still is about an event that was very emotional. TEARS OF THE SUN, is also an obvious one. My songs are about something, and if it makes you feel anything at all then I did my job right.”
CLICK HERE TO READ MORE!
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liked by tayrussell, saweetie and 2,785,046 others
yourusername 2 THE MAX MV IS HERE!! i heard it was a fan favourite and had to deliver… there is no way to express my gratitude to you all for the support the album has gotten, so i guess this is my way!
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ynfan31 MY FAV SONG YES
⤷ danielfan31 “i turn up the heat to the max and watch them bitches squirm” ATE THAT SHIT UPPP
ynfan32 y/n mathers?? MORE LIKE Y/N MOTHER
danielricciardo She’s wearing red, next question!
⤷ yourusername LMAO??
⤷ maxverstappen1 Let him be, he’s a bit jet-lagged
ynfan33 literally fell down the stairs bc of this announcement
danielfan32 forget daniel… I WANT HER
ynfan34 as a y/n fan i am more than amazed at the amount of content we’re getting😭
ynfan35 it suddenly got real hot
⤷ ynfan36 we call that “the y/n effect”
ynfan37 LITERALLY RUN ME OVER!!!!!!
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wishjacked · 6 months ago
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HEY GUYS! just wanted to shout out the @spiderforestcomics anthology that's currently on Kickstarter!! Here's the link. The prompt for this one is "immortal", all the comics in it center on that theme somehow. :)
It literally only has HOURS left and it's still rather far from the goal! I've backed these anthologies in the past and they're so fun, they've been a good way for me to introduce some of my friends to short comics and webcomics. Here's a couple of comic previews...
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The Silence at the End of the Universe by Phineas An immortal being realizes that the universe around them is dying.
~
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He Got Better  by Jacki Crabbng Bon can't die. How is he sure? (that Dumb Ways to Die song starts playing really aggressively in the background)
~
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Little Light by Toby The sun makes a friend. This comic is set during the prehistory of Toby's webcomic, which has a kind of DnD inspired setting, and I think it's such a fun idea to mash prehistoric and fantasy settings together!!
~
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Good Luck Cat by Kaija Harrison A musician realizes her shockingly long-lived cat will likely outlive her and asks for help in finding her a new home.
~
Also, if you end up wanting to grab one of the tiers that includes their previous anthologies, I super recommend the Haunted anthology, that's my favorite one that I've read so far!! (Here's one of the comics from that anthology, so you can see the kinds of comics that their anthologies often have :D)
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cerebralisis · 4 months ago
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Has Taylor been drawing connections to Barbie’s journey from Barbieland into the real world?
I rewatched Barbie a few days ago after streaming the Amsterdam N3 show and found some interesting parallels, particularly the scene where Barbie and Ken go through the transportation sequence.
Like Barbie and Ken, Taylor and Travis started their journey by setting off in the getaway car (a rather loud hint at how this whole thing is gonna end). Since then, Taylor has played Getaway Car twice - once in Melbourne mashed up with August and The Other Side of the Door, and again in Edinburgh mashed up with The Bolter - three more songs that reference cars.
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Next, Barbie and Ken ride in the boat. I’m sure by now that most of us have seen the Taylor-Travis pap-walk on their way to a boat ride - with the chessboard sweater and the not-so-subtle AO3 shot in the background making everyone question if this is just a fanfic. Taylor also played the “murder mashup” which includes a song referencing a boating license and another song used in a movie where they boat through the marshes of North Carolina.
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From the boat, Barbie and Ken move onto the rocket ship. This is substantially more challenging for them to recreate, but I did notice that there were a hefty amount of spaceship/rocket references throughout June. Most notably: a new merch drop featuring the Down Bad spaceship and lyrics; a TikTok from Ice Spice where she’s reading the WSJ issue featuring Karlie Kloss as a “Rocket Woman” that’s “suiting up at Spacex;” Kam yelling out “bolt ya rocket” during WANEGBT; and a timely insta post from Travis promoting the Accelerator Rocket Pop energy drink (while wearing a Ken wig?)
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After that, Barbie and Ken ride bikes through a scene set with windmills in the background, which heavily implies the Netherlands. This is what caught my attention because - while Taylor was in the Netherlands for Amsterdam N3 - she sang imgonnagetyouback, which of course has the line about smashing up your bike. She then sits down at the piano and says “I mentioned bikes, and man do you love bikes in Amsterdam! You just see a bike rack with 3,000 bikes on it.” Then, Travis was papped riding a bike out in Amsterdam. All of this happened only a week after Travis told us on his podcast that he suggested riding out on stage on one of the Blank Space bikes (before Taylor came up with the idea to make him a circus handler instead).
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Next in the sequence are a camper, snowmobile, and rollerblades, so we will have to keep an eye out and see if there are any related hints.
It wouldn’t be the first Barbie reference that Taylor has made. In addition to all her Ken lyrics, I’m convinced that Peter references the Barbie movie with the line: “I hoped you’d return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you’ve learned.” To me this feels a lot like Barbie choosing the Birkenstock over the high heel so she can go to the real world and learn the secrets of the universe. Especially when contrasted with “in stilettos for miles” when Taylor is lamenting her misery during I Can Do It With a Broken Heart, as if she’s stuck in Barbieland.
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What do you think? Am I just cherry-picking or does the transportation sequence seem like an intentional countdown? Given the themes of the Barbie movie, the connections are hard to miss.
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nichuuu · 1 year ago
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Dried Things & Humanity
말린 것들과 인류
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Word count: 13k+ SMUTLESS FIC
"The world, after all, was still a place of bottomless horror. It was by no means a place of childlike simplicity where everything could be settled by a simple then-and-there decision" ~Osamu Dazai
Dried flowers. 
They sat by your bedside, a constant reminder of how far you would go for love—A love that would never be anything more than a short-lived euphoria. They’d died some time ago, wilting rather quickly under a lack of care, but you kept them. The text that came when spring first rolled around saying hey let’s break up was not expected, neither was the part where she blocked you, nor was the part where you almost jumped off a bridge. Yet it all happened, a confusing, muddled, mish mash of events that went down over the span of a week. If it weren’t for your friends, you would be at the bottom of the river by now, joining your grandfather and maybe your family dog up in the clouds, or wherever it was that spirits wandered to. At the moment, getting out of this life didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.
You stupid child! Your mother had chided when she found out about what you almost did. What do you think you would’ve achieved with that? What good will it do? 
Then she hugged you, held you tight and sobbed as she thanked god for letting you live another day. Frankly, you didn’t know what was the appropriate response for your mother. You opted to hug her back, tearfully whispering your endless apologies to her. Even though you promised to never make another attempt on your life, the fear of losing her only boy still lingered in your mother’s mind. Your mother and father were always in the office. So, in fear that living alone would drive you to the worst possible option, she sent you to live with your uncle who ran a secondhand bookshop in a small town not too far from the city. She filled him in with what happened and pleaded for him to help you “recover”.
“Don’t worry little sis,” he assured your mother. He threw an arm around you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own son. We’ll get along, won’t we?”
Park Sang-hoon—the people living in the area called him “the librarian”—was your mother’s older brother. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated from middle school, and he’d certainly aged from the last time you saw him. The hair that was once jet black and slicked back was turning white and receding. The same friendly complexion remained however, the amiable smile that you remembered greeting you when he opened the door to his house. It was a stone's throw away from the bookstore.
The house and the business had been imparted upon him by your grandparents. It was relatively small, but there was enough room for the two of you to live with your own privacy (though that didn't really matter since he’d just come barging into the room you stayed in anyway.)
The door to your room flung open. “Hey kid! Rise and shine!”
You grumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket over your head. 
“Up! Up! It’s time to get up!” your uncle bellowed in a sing-song tone, “there are so many things to see and do! Get up you lazy child!”
Your blanket was yanked off your entire body.
“Is this really necessary?” you snapped. Your uncle grinned.
“No. But it’s fun,” he beamed. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your left side, you back facing him, 
“Leave me alone…” you muttered, “let me sleep…”
“I’ve been letting you do that for the past week,” your uncle huffed, “now your mother is calling me, demanding to know if you’d even emerged from this room. She said some mean things to me, you know?”
You sighed and turned onto your back. “I’ll go out tomorrow…”
Your uncle sighed. “Let me tell you something…”
Let me tell you something was the signal for you to tune out. “Let me tell you something”, “Let me tell you this”—your uncle always said these before he launched into a long rambling story that really added no value to what he was trying to say. It was either that or he’d leave you with a cryptic message to decipher yourself. You never understood why he did that, it was probably just an old people thing.
By the time he was done with his little storytime, you were still in bed. With another heavy sigh, your uncle said, “fine… If you’re not gonna go anywhere today, at least come and help me with the store.”
Your mind told you to stay in bed, but your body told you that you needed to get outside. You decided to listen to the latter party for once. 
The bookshop was old, one of those shophouses down a stretch of road that townsfolk usually walked past on the daily. Needless to say, the store wasn’t the most appealing from the outside. The inside however—That was something else.
You remembered visiting the bookstore with your mother once or twice. A stack of books nearly fell on you that time, and your uncle was berated rather viciously. He’d definitely made some improvements in the time you were away. The store was warm, cosy and relatively organised. The shelves were evidently a little worn from the years, but they still looked and felt sturdy to the touch.  It was a welcoming environment, the interior bearing a striking resemblance to a bookstore of the early 90s.
“I’ve kept up with the times!” your uncle boasted proudly, “nowadays everyone and their mothers are all into this retro aesthetic, so I made sure to keep as much of the hip and cool retro feel.”
Your uncle definitely did his research. You couldn’t help but look upon the shelves filled with books with awe. “This is…”
“Pretty lit, am I right?” your uncle grinned. You cringed.
Your uncle frowned. “What? Did I not use the phrase correctly?”
“N-No it’s just… Ah whatever,” you muttered.
“Damn… I swear I had the meaning for that one down,” your uncle muttered, “the slang of the youth… Such an odd thing.”
After giving you a little more time to admire the place, your uncle tossed you an apron and instructed you to put it on. 
“I’m alright with letting you stay with me for free,” your uncle told you as he helped you tie the strings of the apron behind your back, “but I won’t let you wallow in this post-breakup sadness all day.”
He spun you around, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You just graduated from highschool, no?”
You nodded. 
“Perfect, you’ll need some job experience then,” he grinned, “from now on. You’ll work for me till your stay here is over!”
And so it began. From that day onwards, you started filling shelves, dusting books, pasting on price tags and flipping through pages of books that had been sold to the store to assess the state of the book. It was far from enjoyable in the beginning. It felt akin to the life of Andy Dufrane in Shawshank redemption, the same old routine repeated day after day in what felt like an endless cycle. You were up early in the morning to open the shop with your uncle, the brown apron on your person by 7am in the morning and the door to the shop open by 9am after you were with the opening up preparations. You had to flip the plastic sign hanging on the door from “open” to “closed” every morning, and from “open” back to “closed” in the late evenings. Lunch was usually around 12pm, where your uncle would go out to one of the nearby restaurants to get lunch for the two of you. You’d sit opposite each other in the small break room that sat behind the counter, munching on whatever he bought. 
Handling customers was also another gruelling task. You admittedly didn’t have a voracious appetite for books, many authors sounding foreign to you. A good majority of the books that the store had on hand were classics from esteemed authors, varying in language, length and appeal. When customers asked you what you’d recommend, you could only shrug, earning yourself a nasty gare before they walked off. When they asked about the disparity between the prices of the same book, you could only stare blankly before calling to your uncle.The store had duplicates of some books, the only thing separating the copies being the cover art or the type of book cover. 
“Let me tell you something,” your uncle had told you one fine day, ���hardcover books are much more valuable than the usual soft cover books. You want to know why?”
That last part wasn’t a question, rather more of a filler. Apparently, a hardcover was typically more durable, allowing it to better protect the pages within. This meant that the book would stay in better condition for longer. Ultimately, the process and materials needed for hardcover book printing were more expensive, hence this cost is passed on to readers. 
“Capitalism,” you muttered, placing the hardcover version of Greek Lessons by Han Kang on the shelf. 
As for the cover art—Some covers were objectively more appealing than the other, making the book more valuable. This was the case for Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. The two covers looked about the same to you. 
 On some days, you wondered how such an old secondhand bookstore could’ve lasted for so long. There were days where you only sold two books for little Won each, and those were typically on weekdays where some of the townsfolk—usually on the more elderly side—would come through the doors and browse through the books. But on the weekends, you were reminded just how hectic this place could get. The youth from the city loved to flood the shop over the weekends, making the commute from the heart of the country to this small shop in a small town to browse through the seemingly endless selection of books.The line to the counter often snaked out the door and onto the street on those days, and your fingers would be aching by the end of the day—A byproduct of gripping those handles of those paper bags while struggling to get them open.
After a week or two, you got used to the whole routine. It didn’t help to remove the monotony of your tasks however, and you often found yourself wondering how your uncle could run this place on his own for so long. With the memories of your ex still tormenting your mind, you found it hard to focus on your tasks at times. Sometimes, you just didn’t want to get up in the mornings. The dried flowers by your bedside were a constant reminder of the pain. You’d bought them for her on the day that text came, now you couldn’t let go of them.
One evening, your uncle decided to close up the shop a little earlier. It’d been a slow Wednesday, so there was no harm in resting up a little earlier than usual. 
“Come with me,” he told you after he’d locked the shutter in place, “I want to take you somewhere.”
You walked up the stretch with him, walking past the rows of shophouses that lined the street. You saw bookstores that looked similar to your uncle’s a couple of times, prompting you to wonder just how many people sold secondhand books on this stretch. 
He took you to a small bridge at the end of the road. It was one of those old, traditional Korean bridges with the stone tiling that arched over the water. He took you up to its apex and made you look out into the water. 
“What do you see?” he asked you.
“Is this one of those stupid lectures again?” you muttered.
“Just answer me.”
You sighed. “I see the water and some trees.”
“Good. What else?” he urged. 
“There’s nothing else,” you told him.
“Wrong. Look again.”
You rolled your eyes and set your sights a little further. “I see Cogongrass.”
“What else?”
You were certain that this was one of his stupid little talks again. “Just tell me what you want to say, uncle!”
“Always so impatient…” he chuckled.
Gently, he grabbed your chin and tipped it up. With his other hand, he pointed out into the distance—Past the trees, water, the cogon grass and the roofs of the shophouses. There, you saw the mountains and the roads that stretched for kilometres, the faint shape of those big blue signs that pointed you in the directions to different places.
“You limit yourself to what you see in this area,” he explained, “but you fail to see past this river and this small town.”
He turned you back to face him. You were a little taller than him, so he had to look up at you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders, holding them firmly. 
“You must learn to set your sights further, dear nephew,” he told you, “learn to see past the trees and the water in your mind. Then and only then, will you be able to live once more.” 
The cryptic message left you admittedly puzzled on the way home. It took you some thinking to read between the lines and understand what your uncle had told you—You had to look past the memories of your ex in order to move on with your life. 
“Excellent,” your uncle had praised when you knocked on his door to ask if your interpretation of his message was correct, “I hope that you can remember this. I hate to see you moping around my store. It scares my customers away too!”
Your first step in looking past the memories was to toss out the dried flowers from your bedside. Even though it was painful, you did it. You knew you needed to.
In its place by your bedside, you bought an alarm clock—one of those old ones that still used the hammers to knock the two small bells—And a framed photograph of the town. You bought both of them from one of the nice old ladies who ran a souvenir shop just down the road. 
It was the start of a new beginning. It felt like you were human once more.
***
Dried Persimmon.
That was what you were munching on when you were handed your first paycheck from your uncle.
“W-Why are you paying me?” you stammered, “I-I thought this was just something to occupy my time!”
“I may be cheap, but I won’t exploit my own nephew!” your uncle laughed, “now quit sneaking snacks on your shift and get back to work!” 
You knew that your uncle was generous, but you never expected him to be this generous. With a smile, you wiped the bits of the dried fruit from the corners of your lips before pocketing the envelope. 
“Thanks,” you beamed. You raised the small jar of dried persimmons and asked, “want one?”
“Tsk. I’m a professional, I don’t eat on my shift,” he sneered. 
“You sure?” you confirmed, “this is a fresh batch from Miss Cho’s…”
“From Miss Cho’s?” he gasped, “gimme some of that!”
You had become well acquainted with the townsfolk, especially with the ones that ran the stores on the same stretch as the bookstore. Sometimes, the sweet old ladies from down the road would come in to deliver some gifts to you and your uncle. Everyone seemed to be friends in this town. Miss Cho was one of the many townsfolk that specialised in dried goods. A sweet lady really, a little older than your mother but not as old as your uncle. Persimmons were seasonal fruits, so they were naturally high in demand in late spring. 
You let your uncle take one piece of the dried fruit before closing the lid and setting it atop the table in the break room. Your uncle stepped aside to let you exit, and you went to continue your shift. 
Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to move on from your ex. Yes, you did share some fond memories with her, but you found these “core memories” made with her easy to forget. She no longer appeared in your dreams, neither did you think about her when you were going about your tasks. She’d become a distant pain, a pain that you never intend to revisit. 
Once, she did happen to come by the bookstore on a weekend. She walked into the crowded store, hand in hand with a brand new boyfriend while you were calculating somebody’s purchase. You caught yourself staring at her as she browsed through the books, her boyfriend lingering close by as he read over her shoulder. It was then that your uncle firmly grabbed you by the shoulder. He’d seen pictures of her. He could recognise her on sight
“Look past the trees and the water,” he reminded you, before going back to checking out books. You tore away your gaze from them and continued with your work.
When she came out to the counter to pay, the look of shock on her face almost made you want to double over in laughter. Swiftly and wordlessly, you took her books and packaged them neatly in a bag. 
“That will be forty-thousand Won ma’am,” you had smiled respectfully. She was still staring at you, her mouth open in the shape of an “o”.  Her boyfriend had to pay and take the goods from you before directing her out of the store. 
When they left, your uncle gave you a gentle pat on your hand. Well done was what he was trying to say. 
True to your uncle’s lesson, once you had gotten over her, you felt like you were alive. You found that you quickly took a liking to this new lifestyle, immersing yourself in the wide array of books that were at your disposal and even taking home a few to read. It felt like a fresh new chapter had begun in your life, and you were more than ready to welcome its start. The monotony was now welcomed in this slower-paced segment of your life.
“By the way,” your uncle called to you as you set down a box of books. He’d just bought them off a guy moving overseas. “I have a feeling that business will start to pick up soon!’
“Why’s that?” you asked.
“You’ll see…” he smiled. He popped another dried persimmon into his mouth. “Damn! This batch is bussin!”
You cringed. You could get used to life in this small town, but you knew that you’d never get used to your uncle throwing out the slang of your generation. You wondered if he had Tik Tok on his phone or if he’d seen one too many Instagram reels.
With your box cutter, you cut open the tape that sealed the cardboard box, the one that housed the goods. You opened the box. 
“The hell…” you muttered as you stared at the books within, “who did you get these off?”
“Some preschool principal. What’s up?” your uncle asked. 
You produced one of the many alarmingly thin books from the box. “Hate to break it to you but… These are all children’s books.”
Your uncle was never one to swear, but he made a rare exception for that moment. 
“Fuck!” he cussed rather loudly, “I should’ve asked what the contents were!”
You chuckled and placed the book back into the cardboard box. “Don’t worry uncle, we can always sell these to the daycare, can’t we?”
“Bourgeoisie scumbag! I paid a lot for that!” your uncle continued to ramble. You decided that it would be best to silently push the box into the storeroom while he let his frustrations out.
***
Dried leaves. 
That's what you were sweeping when a black van rolled into the stretch of street. The front doors opened and a man and a woman stepped out. It was early autumn. The leaves of those trees that grew next to the bookstore—Once beautiful and elegant in nature—became pesky as their leaves had begun to wither and fall. Your uncle saw the mess outside the store and immediately got you to start sweeping it up. He couldn’t stand the sight of it.
You halted your broom as the man and woman approached you. 
“Hello,” the woman greeted you, “is this Park’s second hand books?” 
You nodded and pointed at the sign above you. The woman grinned. She turned and told the man to get the gear out. 
You recognised the city accent in their voices. 
The man wrapped around the vehicle and opened the trunk. You tried to look into the van but found that the tinted windows didn’t let you see anything. The man came back around, a heavy video camera—those ones they used to film movies—on his shoulder. The woman approached the door of the van and pulled it open. 
Five girls got out of the van, selfie sticks with Gopros attached to the end in their hands as they filed out of the vehicle one by one. It took a moment for you to recognize the five of them, and another moment to realise that there were global superstars standing right before you. 
In a wordless panic, you dropped the broom and bolted into the store. Your uncle was behind the counter, counting the bills in the cash register when you called him.
“ITZY is in front of the store!” you exclaimed. Your uncle cocked his head.
“ITZY?” he inquired, “is that a new slang or something?”
“N-No! T-Their idols, uncle! There are idols outside the door!” 
It took a moment for your uncle to process what you’d said. Then, he simply smiled. 
“Right… I forgot to tell you about that,” he said. He placed the bills he had been counting back into the register and walked out from behind the counter. 
“Oooh… These girls are much prettier in person,” your uncle mused as he walked by. He opened the door to the store and stepped outside. You could hear his booming voice through the open door. “HELLO! WELCOME! WELCOME!” 
You could hear them exchanging greetings outside the store. Hurriedly, you scanned around the store, looking for any signs of mess. There were thankfully none.
“Come in! It’s rather cold out,” your uncle said, “it’s much warmer in here!”
You quickly stood up straighter, your hands by your sides as the five ITZY girls walked through the door of the store. 
“Welcome to the store!” your uncle grinned, “that over there is my nephew, he runs the place with me for now.”
The girls turned. The feeling of five pairs of eyes on you was nerve-wracking, and the two cameras that started to flank you on either side weren’t helping to ease your nerves. Where did the second camera come from? You couldn’t help but wonder.
You gulped, a tug of war between waving and bowing to the girls ensuing in your head as you stared blankly. 
“He’s uh… A little shy,” your uncle chuckled. Then he gave you a look, one that said hurry up and say hello you dense child.
There was no victor in the mental tug of war. In the end, you resorted to an awkward half wave, half bow. The girls sniggered at your greeting.
Then and there, you wanted to shrink down and hide in the shelf behind you. 
The woman from earlier started speaking to the girls. “This is the final place. Now, we will draw lots to see who goes where!”
She produced a handful of popsicle sticks. The girls started talking about how nervous they were, giggling amongst themselves as they started to draw the sticks one by one. Your uncle stood by the woman, a small smile on his face as he patiently awaited the result.
“Oh. Looks like I’ll be working here!” Shin Yuna smiled as she looked at her stick. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment that you heard in her voice. 
“Excellent!” your uncle beamed. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen going twenty, sir!” Yuna answered bubbly. 
“Ah! Looks like my nephew will have a friend of his age then!” your uncle laughed. 
“E-Eh?” you blurted, “w-what’s happening?”
Your uncle walked up next to you. He put an arm around your shoulder.
“I’ll explain later,” he whispered.
Yuna giggled and cleared the hair from her face. You made eye contact with her. 
She grinned. 
You felt a burning sensation on your face. 
***
Dried Pollack soup.
That was what you ate with your uncle as people came in to set up cameras around the store. Every corner, every angle, every millimetre was covered by at least one Gopro.
“They said in the email that it was for their Youtube,” your uncle told you, “they're gonna live in this town for a bit, work at some of the stores… Taking a break from their idol activities apparently.”
“B-But why the bookstore?” you inquired. Your uncle shrugged.
“I don’t know. They sent me a 30 page proposal that I didn’t bother to read. I figured that having idols in our store would help boost our business. Get people from other parts to come here—You know what I’m saying?” 
You did not know what he was saying. The whole situation was so overwhelming. An idol working at the bookstore? For how long? What did you need to do?
A knock came on the break room door. You turned and saw a man standing there, Gopro in hand.
“Sorry to disturb you, but can I put a camera in here?” he asked politely. 
Your uncle gave him a look and asked, “is that completely necessary?”
“I-I mean… If you guys are okay with it,” you replied. Your uncle sighed.
“Take the soup out,” he instructed you, “give them space to set up…”
***
A very, very dry mouth. 
That's what you had when Yuna walked into the store for her first day of work. 
She was tailed by one cameraman and another woman, both of them wearing the same shirt that read “JYP CREW”. You could feel the cold sweat on your palms as you handed her the apron that already had her name tag on it. With a rather apparent stutter, you welcomed her to her new job. She smiled, that radiant smile that you’d only seen on your phone screen now right before you. It sent a warm fuzz down your spine. 
Your uncle showed her around, breaking down the various jobs to her as you opened up a box of books—they weren’t children’s books this time—and got to filling the shelves. You could hear every word that came out from your uncle's mouth as you explained the tasks that the idol was to undertake, as well as the opening and closing timings of the store. He finished his run down just as you finished placing the last book from the box on the shelf.
“What should I do now?” you heard her ask. 
“Go help my nephew. I think he could use a hand,” your uncle replied.
“Right! On it!” came her bubbly reply. 
You could feel your heart beating faster as you felt her get closer and closer. 
A tap on your shoulder.
“Hello!’ she greeted you, “let’s work well together!”
You managed to sputter out something. She asked for instructions on what she should do. You blanked out for a second. Then tremulously, you reached into your apron and pulled out the second box cutter. 
“U-Um,” you began. “T-There’s a box of… B-Books in the store… Just… Just uh…”
Her gaze felt piercing even though it was gentle. It’d been awhile since you’d stood before a girl this gorgeous. Your nineteen-year-old hormones were getting to you, sweat beading your forehead as you struggled to give the idol instructions. 
Then suddenly, you ran away. You didn’t know why you ran, but you just ran out of the store and down the street. Getting away from the store was your main task, and you ran quite a good distance in the chilly autumn air before you finally ran out of breath. Clammy, tense and exhausted, you rested outside one of the shophouses along the stretch. 
“Fuck… What’s wrong with me?” you questioned yourself. It was like you’d never talked to a girl in your life. 
It only took a second or two for the adrenaline to fade. In its place came embarrassment as you buried your face in your hands. What are you doing you stupid idiot! Why did you run? You chided yourself, beating your cheek with your own palm. 
You heard someone call your name. You raised your head.
“Why are you slapping yourself in front of my store?” Miss Cho inquired. She was pushing a cart full of pears. They were probably freshly harvested. 
“Oh… Hey Miss Cho,” you greeted her, “I was just… I-I don’t know…”
You ended up pushing Miss Cho’s cart back up the street. 
“She’s a what now?” Miss Cho pressed.
“An idol Miss Cho,” you explained. You eventually got around to telling her the reason as to why you were beating yourself in front of her shop. The concept of someone singing and dancing for a living sounded completely foreign to Miss Cho—Someone who spent most of her life drying fruits and making snacks—So you had to explain it to her. 
“Ah… I remember my daughter saying something about it,” Miss Cho mused, “so… Why did you run away from her?”
“I… Don’t know,” you told her truthfully, “I guess I just freaked out.”
“Because she’s famous?” she pressed. You thought about it for a moment, then you nodded.
Miss Cho stopped addressing you for a moment to greet Mrs Han, the lady that ran one of the restaurants on the stretch with her husband. Miss Cho gave the restaurant owner a whole carton worth of pears, telling Mrs Han to make something tasty out of them before the two of you continued moving along.
“Why are you scared of an Idol?” she continued to question.
“I-I don’t know… I-I guess it’s because she’s popular and all, so I’m scared that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of her,” you reasoned. 
Miss Cho hummed and nodded. “I see…” 
She stopped once more, this time in front of the sweets store. You helped her pull out a crate of apples from the bottom of the stacks of pears and handed it to the store owner. Miss Cho requested for a batch of the sweets when they were ready before the two of you got to moving again. 
“So… Why does this girl being this idol make her any less normal than you?” she asked. 
“P-Pardon?” you stuttered, “I-I never… I never said that…”
Miss Cho chuckled, one of those nice Ahjumma laughs that could warm one’s heart. “You did not, but the way you spoke of her implied it.”
You let that sink in for a moment. Now that you thought of it, you’d made Yuna sound like some high and mighty god that could smite you with a snap of her fingers.
“Just because someone has millions of fans doesn't mean that they’re any less of a human than you and I,” Miss Cho told you, “just because someone is adored doesn't make them more superior. If that was the case, I’d be a warlord by now!”
The dried fruits specialist cackled at her own joke. She always had a tendency to do that.
“You see… The problem with fame is that everyone places you on a pedestal,” she continued, “a mistake could cost your whole reputation. A good choice could gain you more popularity. It’s a never ending game, dehumanising in the sense that these famous people can’t afford to live normal lives. Why? Because they’re not considered normal! That’s not right if you ask me…”
You were wondering where this knowledge was coming from. You made it a mental note to talk to Miss Cho a little more. Was it normal for all the old people in this town to be so wise?
The two of you finally stopped in front of the bookshop. Miss Cho instructed you to take in a crate of pears, assuring you that she could make the rest of the journey down the street herself. You waved goodbye to her and prepared to enter once more.
“Remember,” she called to you. You were just about to open the door. “That girl is human. Treat her the way you’d treat any other human.”
She left you with that nugget of wisdom before she bade you farewell and continued with her journey up the street. You sat on her words for a moment before you entered the bookstore once more. 
Yuna’s head snapped towards the door when she heard the chime of the door. You made eye contact with her. 
Human. 
With a smile, you carried the crate into the store and asked, “pears anyone?”
***
A dry wipe. 
That’s what you gave Yuna to clean the dust off the shelves. Two weeks had elapsed since she’d started working with you and your uncle. You never got used to the fact that there were always cameras around you, nor did you ever get used to the fact that the woman and the cameraman would pull you aside and ask for your opinions on Yuna as an employee every now and then. You would always try to be as honest as possible, excluding any embarrassing slip ups she made in an effort to not badmouth the girl.
Within her first week here, she’d already clocked in late once. She apologised furiously that day, working twice as hard to compensate for her mistake. Standing tall, she could reach for the things that customers couldn’t, making her a great help to the regulars. She learnt quickly, finding the most optimal way to replenish the shelves by her fourth day and figured out the best way to assess the state of the book on her fifth.
Weekends had become more packed because of her, the word that Shin Yuna from ITZY was working at the store getting out rather quickly within the first Saturday she worked here. The next day, you had a flock of Midzy’s in front of the store 3 hours before opening. You had to guide Yuna in through the back entrance to prevent her from being swarmed. While Yuna greeted her fans that came to see her in the store with a big smile, you couldn’t help but notice the hint of tiredness behind her eyes. It was like she didn’t really want to be there, but she had no other choice
Now, she was doing an excellent job getting the dust off the top shelves. 
“I think that’s good enough Yuna,” you told her. She turned to look at you.
“You sure? I think it still needs one more round,” she told you.
“I’ll take your word for it,” you told her, handing her another sheet of dry wipes while you took the blackened one from her hands.
“This is great,” she told you, beginning her final round of cleaning, “it makes me feel like I’m at home again. I feel like I’m a kid.”
Here’s the thing about Yuna—Her joy was contagious. When you saw that smile on her face, you couldn’t help but smile along with her. The silliest things could make her grin, and you’d end up grinning with her even though you didn’t find it amusing. You were convinced that it was a special skill of the sort. 
Yuna wiped up whatever dust she could find, leaving no stone unturned as she completed her task. It was almost closing time, a relatively slow day for the bookstore as usual. Yuna had been completing her shifts diligently, only ever disappearing for lunch and toilet breaks. 
Hell… If she wasn’t some bigshot idol, I’d have her employed full-time in a heartbeat! your uncle had told you over lunch one day. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 
“There! All clean!” Yuna exclaimed. 
“Could you show us the cloth, Yuna?” the lady producer asked her. 
For a moment, you saw a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. Then the usual, childlike wonder took its place and Yuna presented the cloth to the camera.
“Ta-da! All clean!” she beamed proudly. You politely clapped your hands in the background. The female producer gave Yuna a thumbs up before tapping the cameraman’s shoulder. “I think we can wrap up for the day.”
The two turned and walked out of the store. Yuna waited till both of them had exited before letting out a deep sigh. 
“Break from idol activities? Yea right…” she muttered, stepping off the step ladder. You stretched out your hand to take the dry wipe from Yuna. She suddenly seemed to remember that you were there, and that bright smile returned to her face. She handed you the dry wipe, all bubbly and smiley.
“I’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom, boss!” she told you. You nodded and let her go. She skipped off towards the back entrance. Your uncle walked out of the storeroom. He was drenched in sweat, his green shirt turning dark under the moisture.
“Hand me a towel would you?” he requested. You quickly walked behind the counter and tossed him his slightly moist towel. He caught it, smiled, then wiped his sweaty face.
“Who knew organising could take so much out of me?” he chuckled. He looked around. “Where’s Yuna?”
“Bathroom,” you explained. Your uncle gave you his Ah I see expression. Then he took a look at his watch. “Let’s get ready to close up shop.”
You nodded and walked over to the door. As you were about to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”, you saw Yuna walking back towards the shop. You raised an eyebrow.
Coming in from the back would’ve been much quicker…
As she got closer, you could make out the tired look on her face. Then you realised that the cameraman and the female producer were following her once more. So much for wrapping up you thought to yourself as you pushed the door open.
“Yuna!” you called to her, “come in! We’re gonna start closing up!”
The weary look disappeared in a flash. Yuna smiled from ear to ear and began jogging towards the store. You found that the cameraman and producer were far from wrapping up, following the idol back into the bookshop like chicks tailing their mother. 
“H-Hey um… Didn’t you guys say you were wrapping up?” you asked the producer. She turned and looked at you.
“We need as much content as we can get. Gotta keep going,” she told you. Then she left to catch up with the camera man. You were suddenly ill at ease. 
They continued to follow Yuna as she assisted you and your uncle in closing up the shop. They were like shadows, tailing the idol with every move she made. There was an unmistakable look of irritance on Yuna's face, but she only let it out when her back was turned to the camera. At the end of it all, the female producer made the idol shoot a thumbs up to the camera and exclaim, “Another job well done today!”. Only when they had gotten a perfect take of that did they truly cut the camera and start packing up for the day. 
“Try to be a little more energetic tomorrow,” the producer told Yuna. You were all outside the store by then. The shutter was closed and locked. The final piece of equipment had been loaded into their van.
“Got it!” Yuna beamed. The producer nodded and wordlessly got into the van with the camera man. The van pulled away, leaving the three of you to breathe in its exhaust as it became smaller and smaller.
“This street was never built for cars…” your uncle grumbled. Then he turned to Yuna and told her, “good job today. We’ll see you tomorrow!”
Yuna smiled—this time a little less bright and more weary—and bowed. “Thank you for today! I’ll see you tomorrow!”
The idol turned on her heel and walked off towards the small house that she and her members stayed in for the time being. You couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to slump. 
“Are we overworking her?” your uncle asked. He must’ve noticed too.
“I’m not sure,” you answered, “I feel like it’s not the work…”
Your uncle raised an eyebrow. “What else could wear her out today? She’s been cleaning and stacking all day!”
You pursed your lips. Then, you turned to your uncle and said, “go home without me. I need to do something.”
You set off after the idol. She hadn’t walked too far over the course of your conversation with your uncle. You caught up to her in a matter of seconds.
“Yuna!” you called her. She turned.
“Hm?” she hummed. 
You stopped before her. “Could I… Take you somewhere?”
You only realised how weird that sounded after the last syllable left your mouth. Inwardly, you cringed and hoped to god that she didn’t find that creepy. Thankfully, she gave you a smile and said, “sure!”
You took her to the bridge where your uncle had imparted his wisdom upon you. The walk there was filled with awkward silence, only broken erratically by your comments on the different shops. In the chilly Autumn air, you walked side by side with Yuna till you reached your destination.
“Wow…” Yuna muttered as you stopped at the apex of the bridge, “this is…”
“It’s prettier in Spring,” you told her.
“I can imagine that,” she whispered. 
She placed her hands on the railings and leaned her body weight against it. You silently stood next to her, letting her take in the breathtaking scenery without disturbance. You had a hunch—The fact that cameras were always on her had been taking a toll on the idol. You figured she needed some time away from the cameras, a moment where she didn’t have to live with the fact that she was perpetually in the frame of a lens that was recording her every move. 
You didn’t know what to do when the first teardrop came rolling down her face. When her body started to shake, you started to panic internally. That wasn’t part of the agenda. You awkwardly fumbled around, patting your pockets to see if you had any tissue to give her. By the time you had pulled out the small tissue packet from your pocket, the girl was already seated on the bridge, knees tucked in and arms locked around her legs as she bawled and bawled. Awkwardly, you sat down next to her. You maintained a distance from Yuna and silently slid your tissue over to her. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability. 
You gave her time. Breakdowns like hers would never be finished in a matter of minutes, you knew from experience. The sheer internal bedlam a human could experience under certain circumstances was no joke.
It took some time, but her shoulders eventually stopped heaving so violently, her breaths becoming more uniformed in nature. 
“I-I’m sorry… I-I just…” she started to apologise. 
“It’s… It’s alright,” you assured her, “it… It must be tough for you.”
You gestured to the packet of tissue next to her. She gratefully accepted it, pulling out a couple of pieces to dry her eyes. There were no more words spoken between the two of you, only an odd, comfortably awkward silence in the air as you both sat with your backs to the railing. Yuna sniffled intermittently, and you could hear her drawing tissues to blow her nose. 
You didn’t say anything to comfort her. But that day, you unwittingly made her start trusting you.
***
Dried apple slices. 
That’s what Yuna had bought to share with you. She’d gotten them from Miss Cho’s, and had asked to eat them with you on the bridge after your shifts had ended.
“These are so good!” she exclaimed.
“Miss Cho’s family spent lifetimes perfecting their formula. It’s gotta be good,” you told her.
Yuna squealed happily as she dug her hand into the container and pulled out yet another slice. You could pinpoint the exact moment where the flavour of Miss Cho’s apple slices burst forth in her mouth. Her wide-eyed silent glee was your indication. On the railing of the bridge you sat, side by side with the idol. There was an unexplained affinity between you two since that day she cried next to you. Your interactions in the bookstore had increased, becoming friendlier in nature. It was like something suddenly clicked between the two of you.
“Man… These things make me want to live here forever!” Yuna laughed, kicking her legs like a child as she dug her hand into the container for yet another slice. You smiled as you watched her. She seemed more carefree that day.
“You’re from the city, right?” she asked you, popping another slice into her mouth.
“Yep… I’m just staying here for a while,” you explained to her. 
“Don’t you have to search for a university?” 
You kicked your legs and sighed. “I do… But that can always wait.”
Your truth—You didn’t want to leave this town. Life was much simpler, slower. You’d originally come here to recover, hatred and bitterness brimming in your heart. Now that it had been purged from your being, you found a connection with this humble, small town. You knew that you’d eventually have to leave, go back into the hustle and bustle of the city when you got back to your life as a city boy. You dreaded the arrival of that day. 
You told this to her. A look of understanding crossed her face.
“How long have you been here?” she asked. 
“Since early Spring so… About a month now?” you replied. 
“Ah… And what’s this bitterness that you had?” she pressed. 
You took a dried apple slice and popped it into your mouth. You munched on it a little before replying, “I had to recover from a breakup.”
Yuna chuckled. “Ah… I suppose this place seems like a nice town to get back on your feet.”
You were glad she understood you. 
“You know… This spot is really something,” she told you, “it’s so beautiful and calming… I really gotta thank you for showing it to me.”
You waved it off. “No problem.”
Yuna folded one leg up. “I came here with the girls once after that evening. It was a good break.”
She sighed heavily. You wiped your hand on your jeans.
“It must be tiring,” you said.
“Hm?”
She turned to look at you intently. You stared at your sneakers. The once snow white shoes had been dirtied by gravel and all sorts of elements, but you didn’t really mind. 
“It must be tough living with no breaks… I imagine it can get pretty overwhelming,” you told her. Yuna stared off into the distance for a moment.
“When they told us that we would be coming here to take a break from our idol activities, I thought that we’d actually be able to rest…” she muttered, “then we saw the cameras and got handed those damn selfie sticks… That’s when I knew that we were just making more content while we’re supposedly ‘resting’.”
You could hear the spite in her voice. Your heart went out to her. 
“I hate this,” she continued, “I just want to have a moment where I’m not dancing, where I’m not singing, where I’m not being recorded by some stupid fucking camera while I keep some pretty smile on my face.”
Her truth—There were times where she wondered whether the idol life was meant for her. While they existed, she couldn’t recall the last moment where she was just Shin Yuna, a regular nineteen year old girl finding her way in life. She liked the bookstore, it made her feel human. While she was going about her tasks, the sheer monotony of it all brought some semblance of regularity into her life. For a rare moment, she wasn’t just some money making machine for a company, she was just a regular human, like you. It gave her an unexplainable joy, a joy that was quickly stripped away when she turned and saw a camera being pointed right at her.
She told you this in hew own words. You bit your bottom lip.
“But of course, I can’t let that show, can I?” she laughed bitterly, “gotta be pretty preppy princess Yuna. Can’t be angry, can’t be annoyed, allowed to cry only in concerts or in interviews… Fuck all this idol shit.”
Her life didn’t sound as great as you’d imagined. You admittedly thought that many idols lived in luxury, showered with love and attention from fans worldwide while earning big bucks doing what they always aspired to. In reality, their lives were the most cruel and unforgiving, an endless cycle of practice, classes and content. They were always being watched and monitored. They maintained a happy, cheerful image for their fans, but deep down they just want to take a break for some time before coming back to this life of theirs. It sucked. It sucked big time, but they all lived with it.
The harm that humans could bring upon each other was frightening, yet the world was as such. 
“I think you’re incredibly strong Yuna,” you voiced your sincere thoughts, “it takes a lot to be you. I don’t think many people can confidently look me in the eye and tell me that they’re fine with being watched twenty-four-seven, let alone pretend like everything is great with their life when it really isn’t.”
There was a moment of silence. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, “I… I think I really needed to hear that. You summed it up really well.”
She shot you a sincere smile. You chuckled softly and scratched the nape of your neck. There was a warm sensation on your face. 
“You’re… Welcome I guess?” you told her. She laughed at that.
“You’re funny,” she remarked, “I like your company.”
The warmth on your face was now more of a burning sensation. You looked down at your sneakers, feeling a grin plastered on your lips. Her smile was as contagious as her joy. 
“How… How long are you guys gonna be here for?” you asked her.
“I forgot... I only know that we’ll go back for Chuseok, then come back here for a few more weeks. We’ll be out of here by the middle of November if I recall correctly, then back to comeback preparation in early Winter,” she replied.
Time was a funny thing. It could go by so fast when you wanted it to be slow, but it could also drag on like a snail when you wanted it to be a rabbit. Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.
In your heart, you prayed that Yuna’s time in this town wouldn’t be fleeting. In your heart, you prayed that time could show mercy on this girl.
***
Dried anchovies. 
That’s what your uncle needed from Miss Lee, the general store owner, to cook the stew for that night's dinner.  You shrugged on your jacket that evening and headed down to go buy what was needed. Mrs Lee greeted you with the usual warm smile, though you could tell that the Gopro on the counter was making her ill at ease. 
The ITZY girls were there, talking amongst themselves as a camera man and a different lady producer stood behind them. You did your best to slip by undetected, snagging the bag of dried anchovies and a bottle of water without being spotted. You didn’t know that they’d follow them till this late. 
You paid for the good and exited quietly. On the way back, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around to come face to face with Yuna. 
“Hey,” she beamed. She must’ve seen you. How did she get out?
“Oh. Hey,” you smiled back. 
“Can we meet at the bridge later? I’d like to get some fresh air after my dinner,” she requested.
You smiled and agreed. You set a time, then split off in your own separate ways to go about your evenings. You couldn’t really focus on your uncle’s rambling that night, you mind drifting to Yuna’s smile while your uncle said something about the stock market. 
9pm. That was the time you’d arranged to see her. On the pretext of taking a walk, you slipped out of your uncle's house and journeyed down the street towards the bridge. She was there by the time you’d gotten there, a bright smile that could light up the darkness gracing her features when she caught sight of you. She let you walk over to her before handing you something. It felt like a stick.
“What are these?” you asked. 
“Lanterns,” she answered, turning hers on, “Chuseok is coming up. The Chinese like to carry lanterns and take walks on that day. I thought we should do something while I’m still in this town, make some memories, you know?”
The lanterns she had purchased were from Mrs Lee’s general store. Mrs Lee had always been obsessed with Chinese culture, particularly in terms of decorations and practices. She sold those lanterns all year round, even though no one really bothered to buy them.
You and Yuna walked around the town with your lanterns, talking and laughing, laughing and talking… It was a night to be alive. It was nice to see Yuna in this light. You’d grown out of your 2 dimensional perception of her, discovering the multitudes she possessed. On the surface, she was simply Shin Yuna, ITZY’s maknae and visual. Beneath that, there was Shin Yuna, the nineteen year old girl who could easily make someone smile and blush. Then beneath that was Shin Yuna, a nineteen year old girl who craved regularity, a nineteen year old girl who wanted to be momentarily freed from the glitz and glam. You were happy that she trusted you enough to be comfortable around you, and you were more than happy to have that gut feeling that she was truly being herself with you. 
“This town is amazing…” she remarked as you found yourselves before the bridge once more. You’d walked a full round around the town by then, lost in conversation as you took turns down the roads on a whim. 
“Maybe you should just move here,” you joked. 
“Oh how I wish I could!” she sighed, “everything’s so nice here… I wish I could just stay here forever…”
I wish I could stay here forever. She always had a tendency to say that. While working in the bookstore, she’d let it slip. When you were talking with her on the bridge, she’d say it at least once. She struck you as someone who was vocal with their opinions, someone who would freely speak her mind if she could. You enjoyed listening to her long, rambling talks about her various life stories. Though you could never bear to listen to such rants from your uncle, you found hers enjoyable to listen to. There was a certain way she drew you in with her voice, your attention becoming captive to her tone and intonation while she went on and on… 
When you parted ways with her that night, you found that you wanted her to stay and talk with you a little longer. Of course, you never vocalised this desire. She’d already broken rules to come out and see you that night, the last thing you wanted was to get her in trouble. 
As you walked home with your lantern that night, you wondered what it would be like to date a girl like Yuna.
***
Drier air.
That’s what you felt had changed that late October morning when you stepped out of your uncle’s house. 
“Aish… Winter is coming already,” your uncle grumbled, “time passes so fast these days… I ought to keep a better track of it.”
It was Yuna’s final weekend in the town. She was due to leave by Tuesday next week. As expected, Midzys showed up in front of the door, prompting your uncle and you to wrap around to the back entrance, where Yuna was waiting. The female producer and the cameraman were right there with her, asking the idol some questions in front of the backdoor as you and your uncle approached. Her eyes seemed to light up upon the sight of you, the smile on her face growing wider as she waved to you. 
“Yuna, focus on the interview,” the producer reminded her sternly. She quickly set her gaze back on the camera. Your uncle waited patiently for them to wrap up with their questions before opening the backdoor to the bookshop. As you walked in, Yuna walked up to your right and whispered right into your ear.  “10pm. Bridge. Don’t be late.”
You’d never wanted a shift to end so badly.
That night, you met her at your usual haunt. Her smile—Usually brimming with joy—was noticeably sadder, dimmer under the moon’s beam. It felt hard to accept that her time in this town was running thin. You wished that there was a way to extend your fleeting time with this woman, find a way to make some more memories with her. Alas, time could only move forward at a rate unknown to you. Autumn was slowly becoming Winter, and Yuna would soon be gone from this town. Every moment was now more precious than ever.
The truth you kept to yourself—Though your heart fluttered around her, you knew that you and her could only remain in this stage of friendship. Progressing forward to a new stage of a relationship would be hard. You could only hold on to her as a friend, hoping that she wouldn’t forget you when she returned back to the big city. 
The two of you stayed out late that night, eating dried fruits from Miss Cho’s and drinking some Makgeolli that Yuna had bought and snuck out. 
“My last day as a human,” she told you that night while cracking open the bottle, “then it’s back to being a doll…”
Human… Why could she never seem to prove to everyone else that she was human as well? The fame, the shining lights, the pedestal that she’d been placed on… They all created a false image for her. It brought forth a notion—She was privileged, someone who could receive the attention of fans and brands alike. There was no room for blemishes, her body “perfect” and her personality flawless. She had to accept all that, live with it without a fuss or hassle. 
When she rambled about this, tears flowed freely from her eyes—Years of pent up anger, sentiments of unfairness and many other emotions coming forth in moonlit steaks that ran down her face. You poured her another glass of Makgeolli. She tossed it back to soothe the pain.
“You know… I always feel so comfortable with you,” she whispered, “it’s like I’m talking to an old friend… Someone who actually understands me.”
Under the stars that night, the two of you admittedly got a little tipsy on the bridge. Under the stars that night, Yuna had let slip her true feelings towards you. Under the stars that night, you two shared a kiss, one that would change the complexity of your relationship, spurred by the raw emotions of the night that had manifested through the catalyst that was alcohol. 
As your fingers ran through her hair and her hands held on to your waist, she leaned on your shoulder and whispered some words into your ear. They weren’t words that you wanted to hear, but you knew that you’d just have to accept them.
It pained the both of you to know that you could never truly love each other the way you wanted to. The expectations of her company and of society set a boundary, one that kept you two so far yet so close. While you saw her as a regular human, she still had to abide by the rules and regulations of the company that controlled her. Those rules defined her, the regulations moulding her into something no longer human. It made her life strict and unforgiving. 
She was like an unwilling puppet, trying in vain to resist the commands of those who had power over her. A sisyphean task it proved to be. 
To them, she was an idol. And according to them—Idols and humans were not to love each other.
***
Dried flowers
That was what you held behind your back that morning where you saw the ITZY girls off. You and your uncle waited outside the house they stayed in, dried flowers tucked away behind you. Then they came out. The five of them, rolling out their luggages, dressed warmly to combat the rapidly dropping temperature. She caught sight of you. A sad, warm, gentle smile crossed her face. The bosses of the shops that the girls had worked for respectively had all come to bid farewell to them, giving you some time to talk to her one last time. The goodbyes were tearful, full of hugs and “I’ll miss you”s. Yuna gave your uncle a hug, then she turned to you. Surprisingly, neither of you shed a tear as you stared at each other. 
You produced the dried flowers that you’d gotten from the florist and presented them to her. 
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she accepted them. 
“Glad you like them,” you replied, “try and keep them alive okay?”
She stared up at you for a moment. 
When the first teardrop rolled down her face, you didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She cried into your chest, a million and one apologies bursting forth as she held you tight. It was as if it was her fault that the two of you could not start a proper relationship. It was as if you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you as tight as she could. 
When it was time to go, you dried her eyes to the best of your ability. She gripped the dried flowers tight, a grim look on her face as she said, “I’ll take some time to think about us… When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there.”
You smiled. “Alright then, I’ll wait.”
She fiddled with the wrapping of the dried flowers.
“Till then,” Yuna requested, “could I be selfish and ask you to hold on to these feelings?”
You smiled and assured her that you’d try to. When we meet again, I’ll let you decide if we should kiss or not, she told you. 
In the cold morning air, you made a then-and-there decision to share one last kiss with her, not caring about the fact that staff and her other members were present at the scene. As the van took her away from the town, your uncle placed a firm hand on your shoulder.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked you. 
You wiped a tear from your eye and whispered, “I hope those dried flowers won’t die as quickly as they did last time.”
***
The cold snap hit when you came back to the town. A fresh, fluffy and thick sheet of snow covered the streets. Your boots made a satisfying crunch with each step you took, the frigid winter air biting your face as you hurried towards the bookstore. All around you, people walked up and down the street. City people—you recognised their accents. 
You found it hard to adjust back to life in the city. The roar of the traffic was jarring, making you yearn for the quiet of the town streets. The pavements were jam packed with people, making you long to return to the empty streets of your uncle's humble town. The subway was packed like sardines, making you think about the times where you could get to wherever you wanted on foot. It was safe to say that you had some forms of withdrawal symptoms, but you eventually got over it. Then university came. The workload was immense, the readings mountainous. It took you some time to figure out a way to efficiently cover all the content you needed to, but you eventually found your footing. You were in your last year now. Time was truly so fleeting, a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.
Now that you were back in this familiar place, a sense of comfort filled your being. Not much had changed over the course of your four year absence. Aside from the fresh coats of paint and increase in tourists, everything was just as they were when you left. 
The bookshop was teeming with life when you entered. You were pleasantly surprised. You remembered your uncle telling you about how good the winter crowds were, but you ever imagined it to be this good. You hurriedly removed your scarf and coat before approaching the counter. There, your uncle was busy packing book after book into paper bags. You hung your coat on the coat rack and grabbed an apron. 
“I’m back,” you said, taking your place next to your relative. Your uncle cast a glance towards you. 
“I’ll greet you later. Busy now,” he mumbled. You chuckled and tied the strings of your apron behind your back. 
It didn’t take long before you settled back into that old rhythm—Open, pack, take the bills. Open, pack, take the bills. It brought an odd sense of joy into your heart. You’d missed the monotony of this life. 
The bookstore closed a little later that day. You waited till the last customer had slipped out into the cold evening air to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”. Then you shut the door behind you.
“I should really employ a part timer,” your uncle mused. He beat his lower back with a clenched fist. “The crowds are only growing these days… I’ll need some help.”
Then he waddled over you. With a warm smile, your uncle pulled you into a warm embrace. 
“Welcome back, nephew. It’s good to see you again.”
You hugged him back. The usual old people's statements ensued—How have you been? You’ve grown taller! Jeez… You’ve gotten a little more plump! Have you been eating well? The same old questions were hurled at you. You were happy to answer them all. 
You helped your uncle close up shop for the day. To celebrate your return, he took you down to Mrs Han’s to have a barbeque. The restaurant owner greeted you with her wrinkly, warm smile and welcomed you back to town. The meat was fresh, well marbled and tender. Freshly imported Mrs Han had told you, they just came in today! You came back at the right time!
It was safe to say that your belly was filled that night. Mrs Han had kindly put the cost of the meal on the house, and your uncle hurried you out of the restaurant when you insisted on paying. 
“It’s rare for her to be this generous. Accept it while you can,” he told you. You rolled your eyes. He was as thrifty as always. 
Your uncle took you to the bridge that night. Proper lighting had been installed on it, small yet powerful lamps illuminating the path as you and your uncle stood side by side on the apex of the bridge. The river was frozen over, the trees around it bald and bare. 
“You should’ve came back in the spring,” he remarked, “there were more flowers this time. It was beautiful.”
“I can imagine that,” you replied. 
Your uncle sighed heavily, a sizable cloud forming before his face. “You know… She came back this spring.”
“Is that so?” you replied alarmingly calmly. Your voice betrayed your emotions. It felt like a small ball was caught in your throat. “How is she?”
“She seems alright, definitely grew a few centimetres,” he told you. 
“Is she healthy?” you pressed. 
“She definitely looked a little more plump in the face. She’s seemed a lot stronger,” your uncle replied.
Silence hung between the two of you. Then your uncle inquired, “You never managed to see her in the city, did you?”
You lowered your gaze to the frozen water. 
“No…” you grimaced, “I… I could never find a way to see her.”
The truth—It felt like fate was against you. You could never secure a ticket to any of her performances, nor could you ever get into any of her fanmeets—Online and physical. You never expected that you’d face such difficulty in trying to see Yuna, but you persevered nonetheless. When the university workload came in however, you found your free time had been stripped from you, tossed out to the wind as assignment after assignment plagued your days. Yuna couldn’t be your top priority no matter how much you wanted her to be. You didn’t know why the idea of getting her phone number never crossed your mind while she was with you. Then again, exchanging phone numbers could have landed her in trouble…
You told this to your uncle. He nodded silently.
“I guess we were never meant to be a thing,” you whispered dejectedly, “I was a fool to hold on to those memories”
Your uncle sighed and patted your shoulder. “Some memories never heal. Rather than fading with the passage of time, those memories become the only things that are left behind when all else is abraded…”
“Han Kang,” you muttered. It was one of the quotes from her book Human Acts. You had a paper on that book coming next term. Your time at the bookstore made you discover your love for books, hence you pursued a degree in Literature in university. 
“You remember,” your uncle chuckled. It was one of the first books that he’d made you read. “Your memory serves you well, nephew.”
The quote he’d recited could be interpreted in many ways. In the context of the book, the protagonist spoke of their memories in the bloody Gwangju massacre in 1981. The sights, sounds and horrors left them scarred for life, so scarred that they’d take them to the grave—hence the usage of heal in memories never heal. Healing meant forgetting.
For you, healing meant forgetting too. The only difference—You didn’t want to heal. You wanted to keep those memories carved into your brain, make them a permanent part of your being. You wanted to ingrain that smile in your vision, keep that voice playing on loop in your ears. You were more than willing to take those memories to your grave. 
“First a breakup, now this,” you muttered, “am I not built for love, uncle?”
“Everyone is built for love,” came his instant reply, “it’s just a matter of finding the right person to receive love from.”
The right person… 
Your parents were meant to follow you on this visit back to the town, but last minute work held them up in the city. They’d found an Airbnb house in the town for the three of you, but now you had it to yourself. As you laid down on the bed, you found that the silence was deafening.
Silently, you wondered what’d be like to date a girl like Yuna. She felt like the right person.
Maybe all of those emotions were just teen hormones. Maybe the feelings were just bright out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you didn’t actually love her, maybe it was more of an infatuation. It all sounded logical and reasonable to you. 
Yet when you saw her again, all of that no longer seemed to make sense. 
There she stood in the cold winter morning, scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs atop her head. In her gloved hands, a bright pink tote bag, a bouquet of flowers sticking out from the opening. She stood before the store, staring at the closed shutter, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hair—Red when you first saw her—Had been returned to its natural colour. She was as beautiful as the day you said goodbye to her. 
You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. When she turned her head, you were convinced that her jaw dropped open as wide as yours when the two of you locked eyes.
Then in the next moment, she was in your arms. She had her ear pressed to the left side of your chest, as if she needed to hear your heartbeat to verify that you were truly there.
“Hey,” was all you could manage.
“Hi,” she whispered back, “it’s been awhile.”
Her eyes gleamed with the same childlike wonder. Her smile was as genuine as you’d remembered. You wanted to kiss her to see if her lips would feel the same, but…
When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there…
She did give you the freedom of choice to kiss her when you reunited, but you decided against it.
Catchup was done in the warm respite of the bookstore. With aprons adorning your bodies, you filled each other in on what you’d missed in each other's lives. This was all done to the backdrop of filling in shelves and rearranging stacks of books. Lunch came and your uncle left the two of you on your own. You got some tteokbokki with her from Mrs Han’s—to go of course—and hit your old spot. 
“Even without the leaves, this place is still so stunning,” she mused, staring out at the frozen water.
“I still prefer it in Spring,” you told her, “I like it better when the trees are less… Bald.”
She laughed at that. 
When the sun started to set on the small town, your uncle made the executive decision to close up early. The sun may be gone, but the night is young he told you with a wink. You gave him a grateful smile and took off your apron. He let the two of you go off early that day.
Dinner that night was once again at Mrs Han’s, and she wasn’t so generous that night.  A walk around town was what she asked for afterwards, both of your footsteps seemingly synchronised to produce rhythmic crunches in the snow. At one point, she’d stopped walking to gather up a handful of snow, forming a hefty snowball to chuck at you. You didn’t hesitate to fight back. 
“University sounds tough,” she mused, munching on some grapes from Miss Cho’s.
“I think it’s just my course,” you remarked, “the rest of my batchmates seem to be having a relatively good time.”
“Literature is demanding,” she agreed, “but what do you wanna do with it in the future?”
You sighed and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I’m still figuring that out…”
“Maybe you can become a writer,” she suggested, “write some screenplay… Make it different from the usual stuff.”
“I’d probably need to save up some money before I do that,” you chuckled, “I have a degree that guarantees a higher chance of living on the streets than living on someone’s couch.”
She laughed at that too. Then she said, “hey, maybe you should come work for my company when you’re done with university. That way, we can see each other more often too.”
You chuckled. “That’s a possibility… I’ll try and keep that in mind.”
“I’ll make sure to vouch for you,” she declared, “the big boss likes me enough to listen to me…”
You laughed and nodded. Silence hung between you two. 
Then it was time for the hard question. 
“So are you seeing anyone?” you asked her. Yuna licked a grape seed off her lips before answering.
“I’d like to think so…”
Your heart sank, but you still cocked your head in feigned curiosity, “oh? What do you mean?”
Yuna bit down on her lip. “I mean… I like him, but I’m not sure if he still likes me.”
“Ah,” you mused.
“Yea…” Yuna sighed. She looked up at you and asked, “what about you?”
You took a moment to formulate an answer. “I think… I’m just waiting for love as of now.”
“Ah,” Yuna parroted, “well… I wish you the best in that then.”
There was a sudden tension in the air. It was like your respective cryptic messages had conjured a rubber band of the mind, pulling it out to its maximum length as you continued your silent journey down the street.  Perhaps your hopes were set a little too high—You’d expected her to remember the love that existed four years ago, run back into your open arms so that you could shower her with kisses. But you’d forgotten—No… Chose to forget what she’d told you on the bridge that night. 
I love you. I know that it’s too late for this, but I love you. I’m sorry we can’t love in the same way others do, but do know that deep down, I wish to love you in the same manner that you love me. It’s confusing, I know… But my life doesn’t allow us to share the life we want to. I’m sorry.
It was a painful thing to hear, but you still kissed her right afterwards, and you still kissed her the morning after. You now realised that perchance, you’d gambled a little too much, gone all in with the chips of your heart only to lose. You didn’t understand why she couldn’t date freely, be with someone that truly made her happy. She was a human, a human deserved to give love and be loved.
She got a call a few minutes later. It’s my manager. I gotta go now. 
She gave you a small wave, handed you the last few grapes from the container. Then, with a it was nice seeing you again, Yuna turned on her heel and walked off. The grapes felt oddly heavy in your hands. Again, she was to disappear from your life. Like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy, she spilled through the gaps between your fingers once more. This felt like a scenario you’d read in books a thousand times over, and frankly, it sucked.
But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today. 
Osamu Dazai had said that. You weren’t sure why you thought of it as you watched her back get smaller and smaller by the second. 
Hoping faintly for happiness? Is that what I’m meant to do? You asked yourself. She was getting further by the second. Hoping faintly for a chance that she’d turn back, you stood there. She never did.
Hoping faintly…
No. You wouldn’t settle for that. 
The grapes fell from your hands as you ran towards the girl that you’d so hoped to see again. Four long years you’d tried and failed. Now, with the opportunity right in your grasp, you were certain that you had to make something out of it. 
In three more bounds, you were right behind her. Yuna you called, grabbing her by the shoulder. You didn’t give her time to say anything before you turned her around and planted your lips on hers. She yelped, her body tensing as you held her cheeks in the cradle of your palms. 
A quiet smack resonated when your lips parted. Yuna trembled in your grasp, teary eyes gazing into yours. 
“I’ve been waiting for your love Yuna,” you admitted to her, “for four years, I tried to see you again but I just never could. We said that we wanted to sort out what we meant to each other when we met again, but we failed to do that today. Tell me Yuna—What am I to you?”
She let out a shuddery breath, the smell of grapes saturating the air. 
“I-I have to go,” she muttered.
You were tired of waiting.
“Yuna please,” you begged.
She looked away, as if contemplating if she should give you her answer.
“You… You are who I want to love,” she whispered, “I-I thought that… Maybe I was too selfish to ask you to keep loving me for all these years. I-I guess I didn’t expect this selfishness to be rewarded.”
“It isn’t selfish,” you corrected her, “it’s… It’s human Yuna. The desire to want someone to keep loving you, that’s human.”
Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Right… I can only feel like a human when I’m with you.”
Suddenly, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. You pulled her in once more, holding her as tight as she did on the day she left your life. You kissed her, tender and passionate as she gripped the fabric of your jacket. Her perfume was sickly sweet, intoxicating and lulling you deeper into her body as she reciprocated the kiss. Her hair, cold and slightly damp from the snowball you threw at her, was silky, smooth to run your fingers through. The repeated dying of it had definitely affected its quality, but only in the slightest.
Her voice was strained when your lips parted, but you could clearly make out what she’d said. 
I don’t want to go back tonight. I want to be here with you. 
When the first teardrop rolled down her cheek, you didn’t hesitate to wipe it away. 
“You’d be breaking some rules won’t you?” you questioned.
“I’ve broken them before. I can always break them again,” she replied, “humans were made to break some rules after all…”
With a smile, you let your hand slip into hers. It was warm, just like any other human. In her eyes, there was a gleam that every other human could possess. In her smile, there was a sincerity and joy that any other human could show. Sure, the Dispatch article that posted the photo of you kissing Yuna did call it the unexpected relationship between a top idol and a civilian. 
But in your eyes, Yuna was as human as anyone could ever be.
Dried things and humanity—An unlikely combination for a love story, but it was certainly fit to start the first chapter of your story with Yuna.
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Hello! A rare, smutless Yuna fic has mad its way onto my blog. I know it'll disappoint a lot of you guys, but this is what I wanted to write, so here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this one. Take a break from the horny and have some simple love <;3.
~Lots of love, Nichuuu
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