#also think about volume over outline

[eevees-hobbies]

Nasty Girl (Fem!Reader x Ren Kaji) - NSFW

Author’s Note: I was sitting in traffic, and Lick or Sum by GloRilla started playing, and I thought, “this would make Kaji blush if it blasted through his headphones.” Anyway, GloRilla and Tinashe songs are referenced below, but you don’t have to know those songs to enjoy the story 🙂

Synopsis: New Fear has been Unlocked: not disconnecting your music from your boyfriend's headphones. Now, he just has to match your freak. 

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Ren Kaji. Sensory Deprivation (hearing), lyrics are explicit, Kaji imagines you giving him a lap dance, mention of Kaji smelling your sex, cunnilingus, p in v, dom behavior, dirty talk, use of the words slut and brat, ass smacking, talk of worshipping that ass, and technically a cumshot/creampie combo. Tis smut. Minors Do Not Interact. 

Word Count: 2.4K

Divider by @strangergraphics. Story banner by me.

If you and Kaji could add music sharing to the official list of love languages, it would be underlined, bolded, and highlighted as it serves as an integral part of your relationship.

You appreciate Kaji’s favorite genres. Some of your dates with him include attending concerts—hard-hitting drums and thunderous electric rifts from bands like Metallica, Slipknot, and Megadeth make up some of your fondest memories with him.

Kaji enjoys listening to you express your musical taste, too. You are most certainly not a monolith; your taste in music varies, drifting through the ebbs and flows of enjoying different beats and sounds as you float between different genres depending on your mood.

While some of the songs you like may not resonate with him personally, he’ll always nod along as you gush about your favorite artists. He adores how your face lights up, whether you’re talking about rock, metal, hip-hop, or everything else in between. So when you apologize because you’re "talking his ear off," he’ll shake his head and encourage you to keep going. “Please tell me more about Megan Thee Stallion’s new album.”

Not only do you two exchange opinions on music, but it also isn’t unusual for you to borrow his headphones to listen to your playlist. 

One day, you were preparing to make dinner, so you reached for your cell phone to put on some motivational tunes to get you through the monotony of dicing vegetables.

As you pushed play on your phone, you tilted your head to the side. You didn’t hear lyrical prose coming from the speakers. Instead, you heard the distinct sound of deafening silence. You pushed the play button again, considering that maybe you hadn’t pressed the correct area on the screen.

Still, nothing. 

As you pick up your device to investigate whether the volume is on, Kaji, seated on the couch in the other room, scrunches his nose. 

The music from the band In Flames suddenly stopped and was replaced by what he assumed to be something you were attempting to listen to. 

His eyebrows furrow as he genuinely listens to the lyrics.

Lick on my clit, make this pussy cream. Do this motherfucker how you do them Russian creams.

Yeah, there’s no doubt that this is from your playlist, and it was certainly…graphic. 

Kaji rises from the couch and approaches the kitchen doorway, pausing under the doorframe to admire you. His eyes wander over your shape, your ass jutting out a bit as you lean your elbows on the counter. 

The lyrics are still drilling into his ear, raunchier and more explicit than the first few lines he heard, but he can’t help but wonder if you’d be willing to sing these lyrics to him. He imagines your pretty lips mouthing filthy shit into his ear. 

His cock twitches, thinking about you dancing to the song, flirting your hips and ass in his lap as you tease him, letting his hands explore your body as you dip low and bend over, letting him see the way your ass eats up the fabric of shorts. Before he knows it, he’s rock hard, the outline of his dick protruding through his black skinny jeans. 

You still haven’t identified the problem, and right as you consider force-closing the application, you feel Kaji press his body against your back. You jump a little at his sudden presence and open your mouth to tell him to give you a warning next time, but before you can, he places one shell of the headphones over your ear, leaving the one closest to his mouth uncovered.

“Interesting taste you have. What did she say? ‘All over his breath like pussy flavored gum’”

Well, damn, then.

Your knees suddenly feel as though they may not be able to keep you upright, trembling and unstable, as if you’re a new babe learning how to walk again. You feel the warmth of his breath, sweet and cherry-flavored, on the back of your neck. 

Your boyfriend never talks like this. Kaji isn’t vanilla by any means, but he definitely doesn’t say things like GloRilla does in her song. 

You laugh nervously. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how hard he’s pressing your body into the edge of the counter.

“I didn’t realize that I hadn’t disconnected Bluetooth.” 

“No, looks like you didn’t.”

Kaji reaches up and places the other headphone shell over your ear—music drowns out any of the sounds in the kitchen, like the ticking of the clock on the wall or Kaji’s breathing in your ear. Instead, it’s replaced with the beginning of Tinashe’s Nasty.

I've been a nasty girl, nasty.

As she asks if anyone’s going to match her freak, you can feel Kaji’s hands tracing down your body, squeezing your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress, fingers lingering over your nipples despite the presence of your bra. He knows your body so well that he can locate them simply from memory. 

As he glides his hands down your stomach, you prepare for him to touch you where you need him the most. The drooling, twitching mess that she is needs him.

But Kaji’s hands move behind you instead of touching you where you ache. You let out an audible whine that earns you an unseen smirk. Yeah, he knows what you think you need, but he knows better. 

Need somebody with a good technique Is somebody gonna match my nasty?

He crouches down, hands lifting your dress; you don’t need a verbal command to know to kick up your feet so he can pull your panties down and toss them to the side. 

If you keep up with me I'll keep on comin' back

With his strong hands placed firmly on your ass, his fingers grip and fondle the plush flesh, earning a strangled moan from your throat. You wiggle your ass in an attempt to get him to stop toying with you and touch you. But all you earn is a searing smack to your ass cheek and Kaji’s eyes appreciating the way you jiggle for him. 

If you do it too good I'm gonna get attached

You yelp, your skin feeling a brief sting from his palm. You pout, but honestly, you only have yourself to blame, and you should absolutely know better. Kaji prefers it when you behave yourself, but when you are fervent about acting up? Fine, either a firm smack to your ass or clit, or a hand wrapped around your throat is quick to put you in your place. 

But he’s not cruel. Punishments are his last resort, and as he presses his lips to the tender spot where he smacked your ass, offering you a gentle peace treaty, you’re reminded of that. 

You once again jerk from his touch, feeling like something is pricking at your ass, but the kitchen counter and the way he’s keeping you held against it leave you with limited escape routes. 

Kaji licks the indentations his teeth made on your cheek, a low growl erupting from his throat.

Fuck, he wouldn’t call himself an ass worshipper, but he’d be willing to drop to his knees and press his forehead against the filthy ground on the street to pay homage to yours. 

Cause it feels like heaven when it hurts so bad Baby, put it on me I like it just like that

“Kaji, that hurt!”

The benefit of you being unable to hear is that Kaji doesn’t have to answer you. If he did, you’d probably hate the answer. A monotone “Good” from him would probably warrant an attitude from you. And he doesn’t want attitude—at least not at this moment—he just wants a well-intentioned taste. 

You gasp as he presses his face into your sex, nose nudging against your folds, inhaling all of you. His mouth is watering as his tongue licks up and down your already wet slit, your slick sticking to your folds in the way fresh honey sticks to a honeycomb. His fingers spread your cunt open, eyeing the way you already dribble like a slut for him.

Your eyes roll back as he delivers a peck to your pussy, then a longer kiss until his mouth forms in an opened-mouth make-out session with her, not being liberal with the use of his tongue. You begin to press yourself back onto his mouth, daring his tongue to be even deeper. And Kaji doesn’t fight you; you give a silent thanks that he’s allowing you to fuck his tongue. 

He brings his hand between your thighs, allowing the palm of his hand to rub against your clit as you bounce back on his face.

“You’re so messy,” he growls into your cunt as your slick drips down his chin and drenches his palm. And it’s the god-honest truth; your cunt is dripping, hot, wet, thick, and languid, coating his tongue and throat with your essence. You’re his favorite indulgence. When he has a sweet tooth, he doesn’t think of or crave candy; he thinks of you. 

As your cum cascades into his mouth, his tongue cleans up every inch of you, tongue sliding between your folds, over your clit, your clitoral hood, and even your inner thighs. By the time he considers it a job well done, you’re glistening in his saliva more so than your cum. 

Wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, he rises again to take his place pressed against your back.

“K-Kaji,” your moan is desperate as you press your ass against his crotch. “Need you so bad, baby!”

Kaji can’t help but keep his eyes on you as your head falls back to rest on his shoulder. You don’t realize how loud you’re being with the music playing in your ears, but he desperately hopes the neighbors can hear every single thing you yell. 

Each gasp and moan leaving your lips has him throbbing, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes travel down to your neck, watching you swallow so thickly, eyes pooling with desperation and pleading to have him, him, him.

He hikes one of your legs onto the counter, forcing you to knock over some of the produce you were planning to use for dinner. 

He’s not very patient, even in moments where he wants to savor you; he’s his own worst enemy and too eager to feel you around him. He’s already stretching your cunt apart with the head of his dick, and you lean over to give him a better angle. 

Kaji, ever the appreciative one, bottoms out immediately, stretching your hole to the thickest part of him.  

With each jerk of his hips, the headphones shift until they clatter onto the counter in front of you. The sounds you were unable to hear before overwhelm your senses immediately. You catch the end of Kaji sputtering your name so loudly that you’re surprised you didn’t hear him over the music.

“Fuck, why are you so messy?” He rasps out, breath shakey and labored not from exertion but from simply being so consumed by his desire for you he can’t help but suck in too much oxygen. 

“M-maybe it’s the way you just slobbered on my pussy?”

“Oh, god. There’s that fucking mouth. Headphones must be off.” You earn another smack to your ass and the quickening of his ruts into your sopping cunt. “Like you better when you’re too busy moaning like a slut to be a brat.”

You practically mewl in appreciation of being called a slut and a brat in the same sentence.

“Yeah, look at ya squeezing me tight, brat. Jerkin’ me off with your needy pussy.”

You bury your face into the crook of your elbow, moaning and face heating up because he’s fucking right; your pussy is wringing him, hoping to coax every last drop of his cum out of his balls.

Kaji hisses. Without warning, your cunt clamps down onto him, halting his rutting, “Fuck, pretty girl. Already?”

You whine because, really, what the fuck were you supposed to do? He should be praising you for holding on this long.

As your clenching stops, he has a bit more clearance to continue his thrusts, bottoming out into your tight, orgasming sex. The wet, squelching sound your pussy makes as Kaji hilts you are loud,  filthy, lewd, practically sounding of nothing but sin. He can’t help but think, “like those songs she likes,” as he whimpers at the thought.

“Fuck, well, I’m glad you’re feeling good. Gonna let me cum now?” He’s teasing you because, of course, he can cum. You aren’t stopping him—the more the fucking merrier. You try to utter precisely that, but he juts his hips sharply, knowing you were going to say something with that smart-ass mouth of yours, the tip of his dick drilling against your g-spot.

Your nails scrape against the counter, trying to grip and claw at something. “K-kaji, I’m…!”

You bite your lip, that all-too-familiar tightening overtaking you until it bursts, and another orgasm rips through you. 

Kaji groans and pulls out with urgency because there’s something he has to do. Call it a compulsion or whatever label you want to assign to it, but it’s something he’s compelled to do to you when the urge to cum inside doesn’t sway him.

He spreads your labia with his thumb, butterflying your pretty pussy for him. He’s giving himself solid pumps with his free hand, eyes never leaving your ass, loving the way it looks sticking out like this for him. He gasps, his moan raspy but so deliciously loud. “Fuck, fuck, fuck here it c-comes!”

His cum shoots out, splattering all over your waiting hole until it’s so covered by his thick, white seed that he can’t see your opening anymore. And the final part of the ritual? Smearing it all over your folds, the fleshy pink of you, and pushing it back in with the tip of his dick for good measure.

“What even is that fetish called?” you mumble.

“I don’t have a fetish. I just like doing…this.” He can’t tear his eyes away at how pretty she looks, covered in white.

He finally places a kiss on the back of your neck, his hand reaching around your fucked out and bent over form to grasp his headphones. “Forget cooking. Let’s order in.”

And maybe after this romp in the kitchen, you both had inadvertently conditioned yourselves to use certain songs to initiate sex. His dick automatically hardening when you play songs that bring him back to the moment in the kitchen, and him placing the headphones over your ears as he fucks you to the same music that celebrates getting your back blown out.

[beomiracles]

Hi bby Serene 🤭

For kinktober I’d like to request taehyun + voyeurism maybe also some kind of camera usage too so he’ll use it to stalk (?) or film them, reader being a girlie girl too tehee

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

DAY 19 : KANG TAEHYUN + VOYEURISM / CAMERA USAGE — Your face is the star of the show, and he always saves it for last. Wanting to catch you right on the edge, teetering on the brink of climax as your face flushes with pleasure. His hand cups your cheek and you nuzzle into his palm, sighing as he brings the recorder closer. — “Smile for the camera, angel.” And you do.

Voyeurism is the practice of gaining sexual pleasure from watching others (or oneself) when they are naked or engaged in sexual activity.

pairings taehyun x fem!reader warnings porn-making kind of, camera usage, scratching, unprotected sex + pullout, tiniest bit of nipple play, mentions of masturbation (m), softdom!taehyun.

#serene adds ✎ I also really really like this one heh. pt.2 of my moms birthday gift :3

EVENT POST

“Come on angel, look at the camera.” 

He urges as a pair of slender fingers hook around your chin, pulling your cheek to rest on the side of the soft pillow; your eyes easily falling on the small and red blinking dot, indicating that the device was recording. — With a shaky exhale you swallow as you will your gaze to stay trained to the camera as he’d instructed. Taehyun liked it the best when he could see your expression clearly, to rewind his favorite moments as your face scrunched up in pleasure. 

The room is dark, but not enough to where the outline of your perky tits couldn’t be made out on the recorder. They bounced with each thrust of Taehyun’s thick cock as he shoves himself deep inside of you; drawing as many high-pitched and strained moans from you as possible. — The pad of his thumb swipes across your bottom lip, gently tugging it down, making sure not to smudge your makeup. Red and bold lipstick, shining under the faint glow of the moon. You had picked it out carefully, knowing what he liked and what he didn’t, and most importantly; what showed the best on camera. 

Taehyun liked having you prettied up whenever he brought his recorder along. Getting ready was part of the foreplay; the way his hands would sneak down your sparkly skirt as you applied blush in the mirror. His eyes locking with yours as he presses wet kisses to your exposed shoulder and neck. The subtle point of his finger, indicating which eyeshadow he wanted you to use; and who were you to deny him. 

“Show me how good you feel, angel.” His voice is raspy, breathless, and you fervently nod, one of your hands cupping your tits as you pinch your nipples between your thumb and index finger. A whine passes your lips as your back arches off the mattress and Taehyun leans back to make sure the camera catches all of you. — “Fuck, you look gorgeous, angel.” 

He especially liked how you sounded on the recordings, the slight modification of your voice that came with the old device, the way it sounded when he increased the volume, when he replayed the sequence over and over. — The footage was for him to see, for him to use. It was sacred, it was his and no one else's. He would use them to get off, sometimes just to watch when he missed you, or when he was bored. 

With his hand on his cock, the other gripping the camera tightly, he would replay the scenes of your previous night together. Finishing all over himself when you turn toward the screen, watching him through the lens with lidded eyes as you tell him how much you love him. — Just thinking about what he would do with the tapes the next day got his mind reeling as he snapped his hips against yours, making you choke on your moans as your hands reached for his shoulders; pulling him down on you. 

Your nails scrape across his back, leaving red marks in their wake. Tilting your head to the side, you watch the way he looks on top of you through the small recorder. Even better is it when he sits up, one hand on your hip to keep you in place as he leans over to grab the small device in his hand, plucking it off its stand as he prepares to get close-up shots of your fucked-out expression. 

He starts where your bodies join, focusing on the way his thick cock slipped past your folds, wet cunt engulfing him like it was made for him only. His thumb circles your clit, the action makes you shudder, a hoarse whine escaping from deep within your throat as your thigh twitches. — “Such a pretty pussy”, he sighs, getting as many shots of your legs spread for him as possible. 

When he’s satisfied he moves to your tits, pinching and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers, letting the recorder capture it all, every rhythmic bounce; the way his hand gropes at the soft flesh. He makes sure to highlight the splotchy red marks his lips and teeth had left, the pads of his thumb tracing across them as he tells you how beautiful you are. 

Your face is the star of the show, and he always saves it for last. Wanting to catch you right on the edge, teetering on the brink of climax as your face flushes with pleasure. His hand cups your cheek and you nuzzle into his palm, sighing as he brings the recorder closer. — “Smile for the camera, angel.” And you do. 

Lips pulling into a shy smile before they part, eyebrows drawing together as you finish on his cock with soft cry; one that undoubtedly sounded heavenly on tape. Taehyun’s gaze flits from your face through the small screen and that of the one before him, torn between the two enticing sights as he feels you clench around him. 

“Fuck angel”, he grunts, hips jerking forward one last time before he pulls out. He tilts the camera down, making sure to capture himself spurting his release all over you throbbing cunt, coating you in a shiny layer of cum. — He drags it out for as long as possible, not until his cock has fully softened in his hand does he pan out, getting a full shot of your spent body. 

From your spread legs to the mess between them, your bruised tits and neck, your disheveled hair but so perfectly put together face, shiny lipstick sparkling as you smile for the camera one last time. — “Fuck you’d be famous like this”, he murmurs, leaning down to plant a soft kiss to your inner thigh and you giggle. 

But Taehyun wasn’t planning on sharing you, not now, not ever.

kinktober taglist (send an ask to be added) — @sweetpotatogyu @aduh0308 @joieouioui @inkigayocamman @bambammtori @hkplushier @gyusoulz @eliluvsjjunie @velvetmoonlght @izzyy-stuff @hwanghyunjinismybae @lunathewritingcat @ninitorih @run4gyu @beestvng @bamgeutsz

© all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[achilles-rage]

NSFW Alphabet

word count: 2.4k

A/N: thank you anon for suggesting this!! this was lowkey hard at first but i kinda got into it like halfway through and i had so much fun. if anyone wants me to do any other charcters let me know! enjoy<3

warnings: smut (obviously), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ Only

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After sex he helps you clean up, having a shower together most of the time before laying together on the couch/in bed. He might put on a movie on low volume, sometimes talking and other times just enjoying being close to you as you both half pay attention to whatever movie he puts on. Honestly I feel like half the time he's OUT like 10 minutes into the movie though, feeling so relaxed and content with you pressed up against him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: I think he likes his chest the most, but mostly because he's seen how much you like it. It drives him crazy when you run your hands up and down his chest, and it gives him a bit of an ego boost to see you staring so intently at it.

Yours: Tits Eyes<333 He tries to be a gentleman, but this man loves your boobs. He loves when you wear low cut tops, fighting so hard to keep his eyes on your face lol. He also loves watching the way they move as he fucks you, loving to lean down and leave marks all over them. He also loves your hands, loving to kiss and hold them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I mean, he loves cumming on your chest, the thought of it helping push him over the edge. He also loves to cum on your plush thighs when he's not fast enough to pull out, loving how it drips down them and onto the sheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He cannot hold back when you wear your pretty little sundresses. When he sees you walk out in one, his eyes are immediately glued to you. His eyes slowly trail down from your face to your chest, how your tits spill out of the top a bit, then down to the outline of your soft tummy, then down to your exposed legs, your thick thighs. He needs you right then and there. He can't keep his hands off you. He can't help but think about how easy it would be to bend you over, pull your dress up, and have his way with you. It's only a dirty secret because he feels a little bad about it. The weather is warm, and you innocently put the dress on to keep cool, and because you love wearing dresses, but he can't stop his mind from going to how well you would feel wrapped around him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a few girlfriends, and of course a wife, so he knows what he's doing. At the same time, I don't see him as a one night stand type of guy, so most of his experience comes from catering to specific women's wants and needs. I think the first few times you have sex, he's trying to learn what does it for you, but he knows how to read people, so he's quick to learn.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I'm not saying he's vanilla or boring in any way, but I think his favourite is missionary, with your legs wrapped around waist, desperately pulling him closer. He loves to see your face as he fucks you, and loves having access to your tits, so to him, missionary is the most enjoyable. He also loves having one of your legs over his shoulder as he slides into you, loving the way you tilt your head back and whine for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think he's a generally serious guy, which translates into the bedroom. He's a little goofy sometimes, laughing softly and joking around when the moment calls for it, but for the most part, when he wants you, that is the only thing on his mind.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he keeps it trimmed, the carpet matches the drapes. In terms of his partner, he doesn’t really care, but I think he prefers a little effort to keep it at least a little trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think he's pretty intimate overall, lots of i love you’s whispered into your ear and his head buried in your neck to be closer to you. He's not super romantic about sex, as he's not really into the whole candle and rose petal thing, but he would definitely do it on special occasions like anniversaries if you're into it. He’s a busy guy with work and Christopher so when you have sex it's mostly when y'all have a spare minute, meaning he doesn't really have the time to pull out all the stops.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think he's a man that likes to follow a schedule, so I imagine he does it most mornings, unless you're with him and wanna help him out. I think he gets pretty pent up if he goes too long without release, so every morning that you're not with him, he's in the shower looking for a quick release.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Authority: I think he loves to be in charge, loving the way you look up at him with those pretty eyes when he tells you what to do, nodding and being so good for him. He loves that you trust him enough to follow his lead like that, allowing him to do whatever he wants. He loves the shiver that runs down your spine when he lowers his voice, giving you an order, and the way you whine softly when he praises you for it.

Innocence: This and the last one kinda go hand in hand, but I think he loves how you look up at him with your wide eyes, blushing as he whispers something dirty in your ear. I think he'll whisper dirty things in your ear when you're out in public, loving the way your head snaps up, face getting hot. While he doesn't exactly like you being completely innocent, he loves the way you act coy when he whispers in your ear, pretending you don't want him as bad as he wants you. He loves watching you squirm.

Lingerie: This man LOVES seeing you all dressed up for him. He's not picky about colour or style, he just loves seeing you feeling cute for him, the way you walk up to him slowly, hands behind your back as you stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. As much as he would love to rip it off of you, he loves worshipping your body when you're wearing a matching set that you picked out with him in mind. He'll run his hands up your thighs, grabbing your hips tightly as he pulls you closer, looking up at you with a dark look in his eyes. He'll move his hands slowly up your torso, kissing your stomach as he holds your waist, humming softly, wanting to get you all worked up before he finally slides it off your body slowly.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves some good shower sex, maybe a little round two when you get in the shower with him to clean up. You're already in there, so why not? He loves the way you look all relaxed in the shower, closing your eyes as the water runs down your body. He can't help but put his hands on you, pulling you closer, kissing down your neck slowly before turning you around quickly, pushing you against the shower wall to have his way with you.

He also loves taking you on the couch, although it doesn't happen unless you're home alone. Maybe it starts one day with you cuddling on the couch, your hand trailing down his chest to his stomach, going lower as you innocently watch tv, trying not to look at him, fighting back a smile. Next thing you know you're on your knees in front of him, his hands pulling on your hair slowly as you take him in your mouth. It doesn't take him long before he cums, and you're quickly getting up and onto his lap, grinding against him, still fully clothed, as he whines softly, twitching under you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves the idea of being a family, so seeing you fit into his life so easily really gets him going. Seeing you in his kitchen, making dinner for him and Christopher, or seeing you come home with a random piece of decor you saw and thought would look nice in his house. He loves seeing you acting like a part of his family, longing for someone to share a life and grow with.

He also loves when you come workout with him. Maybe he offers to teach you some self defence, explaining how important it is for you to be able to defend yourself. You roll your eyes, but agree, since you know it'll give him peace of mind. The lesson starts off well, but then he notices the way your ass looks in your leggings, the way your thighs move as you punch and duck, and he's a goner. Now he's mostly focused on the way your body is moving, the thing layer of sweat on both of you, the way your breath is becoming heavier. He drags you out of there pretty early into the lesson, taking everything in him not to bring you into the change room and take you right then and there. Safe to say that he invites you to workout with him much more often.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not into age/pet play, and he doesn't really like the idea of gags or blindfolds. I think he would much rather hear you moan for him, and be able to look in your eyes when he's inside of you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he likes receiving better, although he'll never turn down the chance to go down on you.

He loves the way you look up at him through your lashes, closing your lips around him, humming softly as you move. He loves to grip your hair, letting you control the pace, but still helping you move your head slightly with his hand.

He also loves going down on you, kissing up your legs slowly before pulling your body closer to the edge of the bed, before diving in, holding your hips down as you start to squirm.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think it really depends on the day, and the time of day. I think in the morning he's more into slow and sensual, still feeling a little sleepy, but still wanting to see you come apart for him before getting started with the day. At night, he's more into fast and rough, especially if he's had a hard day. We all know this man is a little wary of talking about his feelings, so a lot of the time, he buries his feelings, instead opting to bury himself inside you, forgetting about his problems for a short time.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn't mind them, especially when all that's on his mind is a quick release. He loves going slow, taking his time with you, but sometimes there just isn't time with your busy schedules. If the choice is between a quickie or waiting, he'll choose a quickie every single time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I think he's willing to experiment, although he wouldn't bring up anything too out there to try. If you brought up something to try that he's unfamiliar with, he'll hear you out, and will probably try it once, unless he's completely against the idea. I think he's a bit of a risk taker, but for the most part, he'll stick with what he's comfortable with.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think he's got 2-3 in him, but most of the time it's 1 or 2, about 10-15 minutes each.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think he owns any, he doesn't know much about them so he kinda stays away from them. With that said, he'd definitely be willing to try them on himself or you, if you asked. He wouldn't necessarily seek them out, but he would be open to them if you showed him what they were and how exactly they work prior to using them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man is a fucking TEASE!!! He loves to watch you squirm, trying to act normal as he gives you less than innocent touches, and whispers what he wants to do to you in your ear. Once you finally get him alone he loves using his fingers and his mouth to get you close to the edge before pulling away completely, smirking up at you as you whine and squirm under him. To him, teasing you is one of his favourite games, playing with you until you can't take it anymore, begging him desperately to let you cum.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I think most of the noises he makes are quite grunts and moans in your ear, trying to keep quiet in case someone hears y'all. He loves dirty talk, but he doesn't do it all the time, instead picking and choosing the best time to whisper something in your ear to make you squirm. He loves when you talk dirty to him too, and loves when he has to cover your mouth to muffle your moans when you start getting a little too loud for him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This man is SUPER possessive of you, but he kinda loves seeing how much other people want you, he's a little confused about it. If you're out at a bar and he sees someone checking you out he gets kinda smug about it, knowing that he's the one taking you home tonight. At the same time, he also has to fight the urge from grabbing you and taking you there, right in front of them, showing everyone that you're his. Instead of actually doing that, as much as he wants to, he'll instead opt for coming up behind you, grabbing your hips tightly, kissing your neck softly. He loves watching you melt against his touch, slowly turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, your attention focused only on him as you lean back against his chest, giggling softly because after so many times, you know why he's suddenly being so clingy.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6 inches, average size.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's pretty average, not too high, not too low. He'd never say no if you wanted him, but I think he loves spending time with you almost as much as he loves having sex with you. He's ok with going a few days without sex, but he would also love having sex every day if you wanted to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think he's either up for a while after, somehow feeling more energized than before, or he's really tired and you have about 10 minutes before he's peacefully passed out beside you.

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[ranchstoryblog]

Ranch Story Community Q&A Volume 3: Igusa Matsuyama Returns!

Igusa Matsuyama, the legendary artist behind the Story of Seasons series since the original 1996 game has once again agreed to a Q&A featuring questions from fans from around the world! A big thank you to all the members of the community who helped make this possible.

Some aspects of the text have been altered to match localization people are familiar with. (Japanese names to English names, for example: Bokujou Monogatari (牧場物語) was formerly localized as Harvest Moon and is now localized as Story of Seasons, etc). Images were not part of the original text and have been added as a visual aid. Though we translated as many questions as we could, we did not include questions involving personal information or regarding unannounced releases. Please understand.

If you would like to read our original correspondence (in Japanese), that will be provided in a separate post.

Additional cosplay photo provided by Foxface from our community Discord.

Translations: @artycharmy (correspondence, outline) Editing and Clean-up: Jerome, @artycharmy, and @regularcelery

——— Anonymous asks: What is the relationship between Jamie and the Harvest Goddess?

Igusa Matsuyama: Jamie was treated as a fairy or spirit. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if there's any points that link them and the Goddess.

Editor's note: the term Matsuyama uses is "妖精."

Tomato asks: I would like to ask about what their inspiration was for the outfits designs in the original release of harvest moon another wonderful life. Since I got reminded of the girl clothing brand Mezzo Piano when looking at the I love Kuma/I love bears outfit.

Igusa Matsuyama: I remember the only thing I thought of was using Spring-like colours! (All designs were made with seasonal colours In mind) When I knew that Daachan, who was planned to be used in a lot of events, wouldn't actually play a big role in the game, I put him on the T-Shirt so he could at least get some attention as a mascot-like existence.

Pansy asks: If you were able to create your own game for the Story of Seasons franchise, with no rules or limitations whatsoever, what do you think it might look like?

Igusa Mastuyama: Since I love dogs, I'd like to try making a Story of Seasons that's set in a world just full of dogs. Though that dream of mine probably won't come true.

Anonymous asks: The look of Story of Seasons has changed a lot over the years! What would you say is more challenging to create - simple designs, where you have to work with very little space, or complicated designs, where you have to consider many little details?

Igusa Matsuyama: A long time ago there were a lot of things you weren't able to replicate in video games. There were constraints for things like the number of colours and patterns for hair styles and clothes. It was difficult to work around those constraints, but at the same time a lot of fun. Nowadays, it's the complete opposite. Now we can design anything with hardly any constraints. And unlike a long time ago, now I'm asked to make more complicated designs, like patterns and decorations. However, if it's a big request, sometimes I run into quite a lot of trouble when designing. They each have had their own difficulties.

Anonymous asks: Hello, Matsuyama! Thank you for bringing the worlds of Bokujou Monogatari to life for many years. Your art has had a huge influence on me!

One of my favorite candidates is “Rock” from “A Wonderful Life.” I’d love to know any particular influences for his character design from 21 years ago, and his new design for the remake.

Igusa Matsuyama: I was told that he was a young, wannabe playboy, so I somehow ended up with that sort of design. For the remake, I made his clothes a little looser without changing his design, so he'd look even more playful. I, too, wanted to avoid changing him as much as I could as there are other people among the staff that also like the original for his “Rockness”. So, he got that makeover after everybody shared and checked their opinions with each other.

Jerome asks: On page 130 of the "Special Comic" manga there's artwork of Super Famicom characters that have never been printed anywhere else. Do you or Marvelous still have these? It would be great to see them in more detail in the future some time.

Igusa Matsuyama: They're all characters that appeared in the SNES version of "Harvest Moon." Nina's parents, Ellen's mother, Ann's father, Maria's parents (The mayor couple). I'm sorry. My SNES illustrations have gone missing...

Raven Bloom, Ryan, and Moth ask: How did you feel when your designs for the men in A Wonderful Life were repurposed to be bachelors? What do you think of the changes made to the bachelors in the remake of A Wonderful Life? I miss the “Bruce Campbell” look Matthew used to have.

Igusa Matsuyama: Matthew (マシュー) is Masshu (マッシュ) in the Japanese A Wonderful Life (Editors note: Charmy made a careless mistake when translating the questions, sorry Matsuyama san 🫣) When I first heard this name, the first thing that came to mind was Evil Dead's protagonist, Ash. You're right. I designed him after Bruce Campbell. I still love Bruce Campbell today. When Wonderful Life was under production, I had heard they weren't going to make a girl version, so I designed him not as a love interest, but as a quirky character. Knowing that he'd appear in the remake as a marriage candidate, I redesigned him as a character that would be liked by many. I hope you can enjoy the game for its nostalgia, as well as for being a shiny, brand new release.

Salmon Axe and Anonymous ask: I personally adore Doraemon x SOS game. Are you interested in working directly with or collaborating with other franchises in the future? And is there a series outside Story of Seasons you would like to work with now as a guest artist? (Could it be Pokemon?)

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved Doraemon manga since I was a kid! Working as a guest artist? Hmm, I'm happier being the main illustrator, so nothing in particular comes to mind. I enjoy a lot of games in my free time, such as Fallout, Far Cry and Border Lands.

Anonymous asks: Even though we never see his face, was there ever a concept of how Woofio would look without his costume?

Igusa Matsuyama: I designed Woofio as the being that is Woofio, so there's no design of him without his costume.

Idris asks: Your style has upgraded a lot over the time to match the trends. Do you think you will ever go for an old school look (early HM) for a SoS game again? What do you think is the secret to your art’s charm?

Igusa Matsuyama: What I'm particular about when designing for Story of Seasons is making characters with head/body proportions and an atmosphere that go well with that release. First, I listen to the client's request then think of a design according to that. These days, game visuals have gotten fancier and fancier, so there's not many opportunities for characters with short proportions to make an appearance. To me, what's important when designing is "playfulness." More so than "pretty" or "cool" and such, I get attached to the character, have fun making the character. I find joy in character creation itself.

MacGyver asks: Yasuhiro Wada has shared some interesting stories about how chaotic the original game's development was. Is there anything interesting you remember from around that time? 

Igusa Matsuyama: Now it's a memory I can look back on and laugh about, but I'm not sure how much I can talk about it so please forgive me. If Wada hadn't been there back then, then "Harvest Moon" wouldn't have become a thing.

Toyberb and Anonymous ask: There’s a lot of different cow designs now, which is your favorite to draw?

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved drawing animals since I was a kid, so I love all of the cows. Although the easiest one to draw is the cow with the big nose.

Anonymous asks: Were there any games where you made designs for protagonists of genders that did not end up available to play as? (Like a girl protagonist for Save the Homeland/Hero of Leaf Valley or a nonbinary protagonist for any game before A Wonderful Life)

Igusa Matsuyama: There's so many designs that got scrapped, but as far as I recall, there's not really many where that character's setting itself was scrapped. (Excluding Thumbelina, mentioned below)

Koharu asks: Were there ever any character designs made for other older SNES characters like Ellen for 64? Some magazines had Marie with blue hair, like the SNES character, so it made me wonder if she (SNES Maria) was meant to also be there at some point.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm not in the position to make settings or scenarios where characters from other games appear, so I can't say, but I like the idea of older characters making an appearance!

Amina/k0iisu asks: Hello! I really love Hiro’s design specifically. Could you tell me a few facts about him/his design that might not be well known information? Thank you so much! I love your art :D

Igusa Matsuyama: Thank you very much! Hiro is a future doctor, so I tried to make them look as much like a doctor as I could. Also, to make him look friendlier, I designed him as your average everyday boy you'd see in the neighbourhood. He doesn't have a flashy face or hairstyle, but he's one of my favourite designs, too. I wrote this in the guidebook too, but what I like about him is the Asian flair I added to his clothes and the spot of colour around his feet.

Bunbun asks: I'm excited for the Nendoroid that was announced of Claire! I hope there will be ones of HM64 designs too. Since you have a lot of figures on your blog, how does it feel to be able to add one of your own characters to your collection? Are there any of your other characters you hope will get figures of?

Igusa Matsuyama: A nendoroid of Claire! I'm looking forward to it too, but when is it going to be released? If it's possible, I'd like one of Woofio.

Editor's note: Preorders are open for Nendoroid Claire now!

Chickee asks: A purple-haired princess character was rumored to have existed in Harvest Moon 64, but she didn't make it to the published game. Did you create a design for this character?

Igusa Matsuyama: That's probably Princess Thumbelina. Wasn't she Incredibly small? What I designed didn't end up being used. Speaking of HM64 characters, I pushed for them to include a pet turtle, but in the end it only appeared as an ornament. For A Wonderful Life, I asked for a turtle to be included again and designed a tortoise with a scarf, but it didn't make it as a pet and appeared only as a wild turtle that walks around the pond. I'm waiting for the day they finally include a pet turtle in the game.

emery flower147 asks: omg  I saw the pics where the AWL girls are in a team and Muffy has a shotgun and stuff? Do you think any other characters would work in a cool team like that?

Igusa Matsuyama: For the Friends of Mineral Town guide book, I had the five girls, Popuri, Marie, Ran, Elly and Karen work hard as Harvest Sprites. Also, for the guide books, I drew Pete (The old male protagonist), Sarah (The GB version female protagonist), and Claire doing whatever I wanted them to. I don't know if you can call it cool or not, but it was fun being in charge of that.

Ixur asks: A lot of the PoOT character designs for the regular villagers seem more popular than the marriage candidates in my region. Is that something that's been noticed by you/Marvelous in Japan? Lars, Clemens, Beth, and Misaki for example.

Igusa Matsuyama: Marvelous doesn't really talk about that sort of thing so I'm not sure if they're aware of it or not. I don't do social media so I'm also not sure which characters are popular. I'm happy as long as the characters are liked. The design on Lars’s shirt is modeled after my beloved dog, so I’d be especially happy if you like his shirt too.

Anonymous asks: What do you think about people cosplaying your designs?

Igusa Matsuyama: It makes me very happy! I'm no good at sewing, so I really admire people who can make their own clothes. It's an honour having the designs I made be made into real clothes, and I think it's great to have fun acting out the characters.

Afro Fae asks: When creating designs for characters, how do you settle on a specific color palette? Do you take color meanings into account with a character's personality or do you go purely off of feeling?

Igusa Matsuyama: I keep in mind the overall colours the client asked for while designing. Sometimes I propose a new colour when I think there's one that fits better. I'm also careful when choosing colours and everyone's traits to make sure it's easy to tell which character is which when seen from a distance. However, in the cases of families and such, I do the opposite and give them all a common colour to give them a sense of kinship.

———

From all of us at Ranch Story, we'd like to thank Matsuyama from the bottom of our hearts for answering our questions again! Whether a fan has only just discovered the series or has grown up alongside it, so many people have loved these characters and worlds that Igusa Matsuyama brings to life, so it feels truly special to be able to have this opportunity. We'll end this article with Matsuyama's own words, as well as a parting gift.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm so glad I could answer your questions again. I'm the one that should be saying thank you. It means the world to me knowing that everyone enjoys my illustrations! I added an illustration as thanks. I'll keep up the hard work!

[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

you never thought your humble, little podcast would ever touch somebody's soul like it did one kim sunwoo's.

▷ genre, warnings. s2f2l, mutual pining/crushing, college au, fluff, minor angst, humor, comfort, swearing, i actually know very little about anything going on w their majors tbh LOL 💀, uhh sunwoo's a simp but wbk, the outline of sunwoo's abs but if u read too fast u will miss it, kissing, low-key miscommunication trope (im sorry i hate those too), rip sorry yangyang, uhm they're kinda cute i *guess* :/, if there r typos then whoops i don't like editing !!

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

this is the fifth installment of the love in unity series! this fic can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to the main plotline and all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. ALSO, the second episode specifically has a direct reference to a scene from flight risk, but the rest of the fic won't need any other outside context!

a/n: for @justalildumpling and her chopsticks <3 i dragged myself out of writer's block, pls reblog :'))

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): RHAPSODY… LIKE THE BOHEMIAN ONE?

THERE was something about general education requirement courses that felt too much like a university scam. Why was it required to learn more about things that wouldn’t help one’s chosen career path in the long run? Sunwoo hadn't necessarily been thrilled when he wasn't able to get one of the lower level English classes to fill his requirement, but the 300-level literature class had so far turned out to be… actually interesting. Well, the literature itself was interesting enough. The professor?... Not so much.

There was one thing about this class that he could safely say kept him sane though. And it was more so a person than a thing.

The discussion classroom wasn't terribly full as he strolled through the door with his hoodie thrown over his dark brown curls and headphones, a pretty voice flowing through the ear pieces as he took his usual seat to the side of the room.

"...and we're back! Hope you all enjoyed this week's song recommendation. It's been a favorite of mine ever since my dad introduced it to me when I was a kid. An absolute road trip banger—"

Sunwoo's eyes flickered up to see that the TA for the discussion wasn't yet here, but he lowered the volume on his headset slightly in case.

"—kudos to all the songwriters out there. Writing relevant stuff that transcends time is hard, man. I can't even make meaningful conversation with my graduate student supervisor."

A small smile curled the corners of his lips upward. Just as he anticipated the segment on the host geeking out about her favorite oldies music picks, he heard instead—

"I can't even make meaningful conversation with my other grad student supervisors, you know?"

Wait a minute. Confusion flickered across Sunwoo's face as he checked and lifted one of his headphone ears. That can't be right…

Somebody sat down in the seat beside him, almost startling him because he had his back to the door. It was you, the pretty second-year who he had met on the first day of this discussion a few weeks ago. But he was peering at you now in a whole new light as a smile lingered on your face from your conversation with the class’s TA.

When you felt his eyes on you, you flashed him a bright grin. “Hey, Sunwoo.”

He cleared his throat, fumbling to turn his headphones off and follow your lead in taking out the materials needed for today’s discussion. “Oh, hey, Yn.” It occurred to him just how creepy he was probably being just then…just watching you. But the thoughts in his brain were flying around like mosquitoes around his head—had he been hearing things?

“What’d you think of the reading?” You asked him pleasantly.

The reading from the past week had been the first third of a novel called The Stranger, a version translated from its original written in French. Sunwoo sucked in a breath, grimacing, “It’s not my favorite,” he drawled. “I have no idea what the point of his character is, to be honest.”

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. “Yeah, he’s a little… flat,” you chuckled.

“Is this supposed to tie into the theory that professor was talking about last week?” He asked then, in an effort to actively shift his brain’s focus away from your awfully familiar voice and sayings, and to the present.

“Something about how he doesn’t fit societal standards. I think it’s existentialism and nihilism. Well, at least I think it is.”

Huh. Interesting. Sunwoo gave a little bob of his head, and this was just when the TA turned everyone’s attention to a class discussion about the novel. He definitely hadn’t thought of those terms specifically when reading, but at the same time, he did understand where you were getting that sentiment from. He just couldn’t articulate his view of literature quite as well as you could. That had made you somewhat intimidating to him in the beginning, besides your very cute smile, but he was hoping he could learn something from you nonetheless.

You weren’t even a literature major, he realized as he listened to you offer your thoughts to the group. It was cool, though—you were cool.

— ✶

The Songbird Station was a podcast, radio-esque show that Sunwoo had discovered over summer break, a few weeks ago. The podcast was hosted by an anonymous host who dubbed herself “DJ Dove.” She definitely didn’t mind talking about a few of her personal life experiences; it was easy to simply bar the names and identities. Sunwoo had binged all two seasons so far of the podcast, happily tuning in as a silent listener and admirer of hers for awhile, and he had always wondered where she went to school or who she was, but it hadn’t invaded his thoughts like this before.

Sunwoo laid in his bed the day after the literature discussion, his hands resting on his stomach and his expression turned up toward the violet-red LED-lit ceiling of his room. His phone sat on the edge of his nightstand as it played a playlist of songs that Dove had recommended to her listeners—or well, he wondered if he could safely assume that what he heard yesterday was correct, and that you were DJ Dove.

It would make sense, he thought. You were a sound and music production major, had great taste in music (from the brief conversations you struck up with him while in class), and you literally said the exact same thing that Dove had said over the podcast. It couldn’t have just been a coincidence. And now that he thought about it, your voice really did sound a lot like DJ Dove’s. There was a sort of friendly warmth to both of your voices, and—and—

Knock, knock— “Aye, Sunwoo! I'm going to Juyeon's place now. Are you sure you don't wanna come with?"

Oh, right. He had nearly forgotten that Eric had planned to head over to their new mutual friend's apartment tonight to watch a sports game. Juyeon was a friend of a friend of a friend—the connections ran long in their friend circle, he supposed. Sunwoo stole a peak at his phone screen for the time and his joints ached at the sight of 8:53 on the face. His face screwed up as he replied to his friend and roommate, “Nah, I think I'm still just gonna chill here tonight.”

He grabbed his phone fully off the nightstand this time and turned onto his side.

“Oh, okay. Don't burn the apartment down and don't steal my ramen!”

Sunwoo squished his face down into his pillow, raising his voice slightly since his words would probably be muffled, "I'm not going to steal your ramen!" This guy.

He heard Eric grumble something under his breath from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of footsteps moving farther away from his room. When he heard the front door close, he let out a breath and turned back to his phone. To his surprise, he had managed to absentmindedly navigate away from the playlist screen and to the Songbird Station homepage, filled with a collection of all of your links. One of these links was for listeners to submit song recommendations or ask questions, and most of the time, they were all anonymous with their own little nicknames.

He had never fully considered doing it… but that didn’t mean he hadn’t ever partially thought about it. He definitely imagined becoming one of Dove’s more frequent anonymous submitters and becoming friends with her—on a level that one could consider oneself friends between two anonymous users, at least.

But up until now, he hadn’t thought that he could do it. Well, because Dove was Dove; he was one of hundreds of listeners.

“But she’s Yn,” he thought aloud to himself, turning back onto his back to speak to the ceiling, as if the layer of plaster above his head could possibly give him a viable answer. “There’s probably a reason she doesn’t use her actual name,” he pondered further, expression contorted into deep contemplation. “This feels wrong!” He groaned.

There was at least one person he could count on to deal with his bullshit.

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

“Well, screw you, too,” Sunwoo huffed as he swiped out of his and Changmin’s text chain. Out of all the times Changmin said “no” randomly, it had to be this time.

It didn’t matter much anyway though. Sunwoo went back to the links page and clicked on the anonymous submissions. He was met with a customized greeting page from the hostess herself, as she thanked her listeners and asked what they’d like to contribute to the show.

Sunwoo moved to sit up against his headboard as he racked his brain for something to say. He had tons to say, but the first message had to be perfect, right?

“It’s fine,” he said out loud, thumbs flying over the keyboard to type out the first thing that came to mind. After all, it was completely anonymous, so it wasn’t like she would—or you would—even know it was him.

He probably read over his little paragraph about a hundred times before attempting to figure out an anonymous name to sign off with. He hugged his knee to his chest when he couldn’t come up with something cool, charming, or unique. Maybe he would stay completely unknown for now. Maybe he wouldn’t even have the courage to submit another message after this one anyway!—

"Rhapsody," he said aloud. Rhapsody was a cool word. Rhapsody anon? Was that who he would sign as?

He did the most logical course of action: look up the word. He asked the internet for its most basic definition, then somehow ended up in the rabbit hole of etymology of the word rhapsody. It described one who stitched verses or songs together—something of the sort. It sounded cool, at least.

It would have to do… and even if you—or DJ Dove—thought it was stupid, no one would know it was him.

Before he could psych himself out of it, Sunwoo pushed the submit button and launched his phone away from him onto the bed like it was explosive. There was something thrilling about anonymous submissions, but incredibly anxiety-inducing, as well. He could only hope that you would be pleased to read it.

— ✶

It was Wednesday when the next episode of the podcast dropped, and Sunwoo was swift to don his headphones on his way out the door of the apartment. The walk to campus was a good fifteen or so minutes, which would get him about a quarter of the way through the episode, but usually the line in the campus cafe was long, so he had plenty of time to listen.

“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and today, I went to my Groupon singing lesson and realized that I think my teacher is having an affair with her neighbor…?”

Sunwoo let out a snortish laugh, covering his mouth with his hoodie sleeve in slight embarrassment as he passed by somebody else going in the opposite direction. Usually, there would be anonymous submissions sprinkled throughout the episode, most of them having to be diverted to later episodes because they were song recommendations. Sunwoo wasn’t super optimistic about his chances of being featured in this episode, but a guy could dream, couldn’t he?

The sky was a pleasant shade of crystalline blue, even as the seasons shifted from summer to fall. There was a slight breeze wafting through the air that brought in the telltale autumnal chill.

"...and luckily the rest was history. My voice was completely dead and my throat is still a little sore, haha, so we'll do a couple more anonymous submissions and recommendations today! This is supposedly a radio show-esque podcast, after all. This one's from a new friend—Rhapsody Anon!"

Sunwoo nearly tripped over the flat sidewalk and sent a nervous smile to the other person waiting at the stoplight with him. Did you just say what he thought you said?

There came a soft laugh from you. "Ooh, like Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen? Such a classic, by the way. Rhapsody says: Hi Dove! Hoping you're doing alright and that songwriting is going well. I'm a relatively new listener but a fan from first listen—awh, wait… that's kind of like love at first sight but for the voice version, isn't it?"

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

"Anyways, that's really sweet; thanks so much—there's a bit more of the message that I'll post on my story later so we can save time, but Rhapsody, thank you for tuning in and interacting with me. Your message sounded so heartfelt to me? I dunno," you chuckled and he swore he could hear the smile in your voice, "maybe I'm a little biased 'cause I love your song rec, too. Speaking of which, Rhapsody recommends Painkiller by Ruel! An immaculate choice, if I do say so myself…"

Sunwoo couldn't help but smile to himself at your warm reception of his anonymous submission. He wished he could have gotten your full reaction to his entire message, but he understood that you needed to account for all the other things you had planned.

Even so, an acknowledgement from you would have been enough. He hadn't thought it was possible, but he thought he just became even more attached to this DJ Dove persona.

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

THE curtains in Sunwoo's room were yanked open, the sound of metal rings against the metal bar scratched at his eardrums and made him grimace. It definitely did not help the pounding in his cranium, and—wait, was he in jeans? There was a disgusting after taste in his mouth, something akin to alcohol, and when he lifted his hand to rub his eyes, he felt dried tear tracks on his skin.

Eric stood at the foot of his bed with a scowl and his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm mad at you."

Sunwoo smooshed his face into his pillow in a sorry attempt to hide his eyes from the blinding overcast sky outside. "What's new?" He babbled incoherently.

It seemed his friend and roommate was not pleased with his answer and moved to tower over Sunwoo right beside him. "You couldn't have waited ten minutes before barging in? I was so close to kissing her!"

"Huh? What the hell are you…" Sunwoo's voice trailed off as the events of last night were slowly coming back to him.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. Ugh. He remembered making plans to go to some singles party with Changmin and Chanhee, and that Eric was bringing EC!Yn over to woo her or something… yeah, he got all that. So why did Sunwoo drink so much and why couldn't he…

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

The emotions from last night came rushing back to him like the tide to shore. Horror contorted his face as his brain raced to string pieces of last night together. He released a groan as he brought both hands up to his face. "Oh my god," he muttered into his palms.

The distinct feeling of devastation and disappointment sank into his gut. No wonder he had thrown all caution to the wind last night and gotten himself drunk off his face.

"How bad?" He asked.

Eric still had his arms crossed. "You cried on EC!Yn like a whale and asked why women were perfect and why you couldn't have this one girl." By the drone of Eric's voice, he hadn't been pleased or amused by last night's events. Whoops.

"I'm—"

"You are going to be forever alone, by the way."

Sunwoo dropped his hands from his face and leveled a scowl up at Eric. Now, that he remembered saying, too. Unfortunately. "Hey! I'm still tender from last night."

Eric's smile was sarcastic and he said nothing as he made his exit from Sunwoo's room and left the hungover man to fend for himself. Left to his own devices, Sunwoo pushed out a harsh exhale as he stared up at the ceiling.

He remembered receiving the notification from the Songbird Station Twitter account and excusing himself to go to the bathroom to hear your voice memo. And when he'd finally found an empty bathroom and played it back, he learned a devastating piece of information.

Guys, I went on a date… updates in the next episode. That was what you had said, essentially—you, Yn Ln, the girl Sunwoo had met in his literature course last quarter and whom he had figured out was the anonymous host of the podcast Songbird Station under the pseudonym DJ Dove.

And he had gotten drunk over the fact that you'd gone out on a date, and said date hadn't been him.

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

He couldn't believe he had gotten so off his rocker by this news. It wasn't like he knew you or liked you or—well, maybe he had grown an affection for you over the span of time he listened to your podcast and interacted with you via his own pseudonym, Rhapsody Anonymous.

But he was just another fan to you, and you would never know his identity.

A guy could dream though, right?

A thought suddenly occurred to him as he rolled over to go through the copious amounts of notifications on his phone he had. There were lots of messages in his group chat with Chanhee and Changmin that he would deal with later, lots of social media notifications, emails, and…

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

Sunwoo cursed. You were definitely uploading the episode today then.

He bit his lip as he sorted through the notifications to find one about the podcast. Sure enough, there it was: I Went On A Date? was the title, and he pretended like that didn't make him want to play Lany's Valentine's Day on loop—

The bedroom door opened and Eric poked his head into the room. "I made hangover soup."

Sunwoo blinked in surprise. "Oh. Thanks, man."

"Yeah, don't mention it," Eric mumbled, shifting on his feet. "Seriously, don't mention it."

— ✶

For the next couple of days, Sunwoo left the notification at the top of his phone, pretending like it wasn’t there. It had worked for about five minutes, but the remainder of time he was stubborn, he allowed his imagination to get the better of him. Although he no longer needed to take a literature course, he found himself deeply considering the vague title you had provided. Well, what could you mean by that question mark at the end? Had it not gone well? There was no way it could have, since your tone didn’t really scream “OH MY GOD I WENT ON A DATE!!!” (not that Sunwoo had imagined what he would have acted like post-date with someone like you or anything…). He didn’t even know who you had gone on a date with, and that made his stomach churn.

The curiosity devoured him alive over the two days he managed to torture himself with his overthinking. No one knew he listened to the Songbird Station podcast, and he planned to keep it that way. It would be the absolute death of him if any of his friends found out.

By Saturday morning, Sunwoo had had enough of his own stubbornness and caved. He donned his headphones, grabbed his bag, and headed out the door to do some work in a cafe located on the Ave. There was one that his friend Jacob had recommended to the group awhile back, and Sunwoo hadn’t looked back since.

As he tuned into the episode, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, shivering against the cold, winter winds. February weather was a doozy, and a hot cup of coffee or hot chocolate sounded so very sexy right this moment.

“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and you’re probably wondering what the title of this episode even means, or why I sent that weird, cryptic voice message the other night.”

The traffic light turned green, and Sunwoo began to cross the road, the coffee shop in sight. His hands were beginning to get clammy in his pockets.

“Don’t riot, but friends, it means exactly what it says—” As you exhaled out a breathy kind of laugh, Sunwoo inhaled sharply.

“Helpful,” he muttered under his breath as he pushed into the warmth of the coffee shop. He shook the cold out of his body before hopping into the line to order.

“ —I did actually land myself a date yesterday. Honestly, I’m not really much of a dater; I never really had time with it over the past years because I would, uh… well, I would rather stay in and do music, y’know?”

The corners of Sunwoo’s lips curled up into a smile. Maybe he had been nervous before about this episode’s topic of choice, but he should have had more faith in you. Rather than speak about the date the entire episode, you always managed to worm in a discussion about your passions, and that was the kind of talk that had first gotten Sunwoo hooked. There was something so attractive about hearing or witnessing a person gush about their passions and ambitions—the way their eyes lit up, their posture righted itself, how they smiled so big that one could hear it in their tone of voice.

He was happy that you went out on a date, because you deserved to meet someone who treated you as special as you were. You were a good person, and it wasn’t fair that he was being so salty about it, especially when he was too chicken to—

“Sunwoo?”

His soul practically fell out of his body. “Shit—” He swore, yanking his headphones down with eyes as wide as the earphones. He whirled around to greet you with a flushed face, red like the old Christmas decorations still hanging up from the crown moldings.

You were standing right behind him with a mildly amused look on your face, your lips pressed into a smile and eyes crinkled in absolute delight. You were similarly bundled up like he was to no doubt shield you from the cold on your way here. “Sorry I scared you! I probably should have, like, tapped your shoulder or something, huh?”

Sunwoo let out a nervous laugh and cupped the back of his neck, the skin there warm to the touch. “Oh, uh, no problem at all. I just kinda…”

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

He huffed with a sheepish sort of smile. “No, no that’s not it. I—I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.” Inwardly, he winced. The fact that he was listening to your voice in his ears, and you just happened to say his name at the same time and appear in the same exact coffee shop as him. Weren’t there fifteen of these places on the block? There was no way you just happened to choose this one at this moment.

You chuckled, playing along. “Ah, I see, I see. We haven’t seen each other since fall quarter though. How have you been?”

You and Sunwoo inched up with the line, so the two of you now stood side by side. Sunwoo was trying everything he could to calm the racing of his heart. Play it cool, dude. “I’ve been okay…ish,” he grimaced, re-thinking his answer. “You know winter quarter is always the worst.”

“For sure,” you replied. “It’s so cold and dreary—nobody wants to leave their apartments, especially me,” you joked.

Sunwoo was about to chime in on how he could totally relate to that, when you popped the question: “And then there’s Valentine’s Day. Crazy how it never seems to rain on Valentine’s Day, though, so people can go out. Did you do anything for it?”

Sirens commenced their screeching in his head. WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO! Don’t let her know how much of a loser you were! He coughed, reaching up to scratch his head. “Uh, nothing special in particular, if that’s what you mean. A couple of my friends and I just went to this singles party.” Would that give you the wrong idea? Probably not, right? Why was he so bad at this, he thought, wasn’t he supposed to be a communications major?

You inched up in line. “Oh, that’s cool. I think I went to one in freshman year at my old uni,” you said.

Before he could stop himself, he said, “I almost forgot you transferred this year.” He knew that one from the podcast when you talked about the struggles of being a transfer student and having to almost “redo” your entire first year experience, social-wise. But you had also told him that when you and he had worked together in your shared class last quarter; it was just that the two of you didn’t really talk much about your old university much after that.

“It’s okay,” you smiled, nudging his arm with yours as a gesture for him to order first. “Not many people remember.”

Sunwoo wanted to protest, maybe to reassure you that it wasn’t that easy to forget something like that, but he was forced to switch gears and order his hot beverage first before he could say anything else to you. After he said goodbye to five more dollars, he stepped aside and made his way over to the pick-up counter to wait for you and his drink.

When you were done, you sidled up beside him, hands tucked into the folds of your coat.

Come on, say something, his inner voice chided. “So, uh, how was your Valentine’s Day?”

He immediately regretted it. Out of everything he could have asked, he had to go with the one topic he really didn’t want to hear about. However, it had been one of the logical progressions of the conversation, and who knew? Perhaps it wouldn’t lead to him feeling like he’d been shot down with lightning? (Was he being a little dramatic? Yes. Did it matter? Not when no one was going to hear him, no.)

You let out a small laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It was okay,” you replied.

It was… it was okay? What was he supposed to do with that answer—

“I mean,” you continued with a smile that looked more like a grimace, “it was—fine! It was fine. Uhm…”

Sunwoo’s thoughts came to a slow, teetering stop. Worry began seeping into the cracks of his brain as new scenarios formed. “Hey, if you’re uncomfortable talking about it, then we don’t have to talk about it.” All of the nerves and envy from before was becoming something softer in concern for your response.

“No! No, it’s okay. I promise,” you reassured him. The look you gave him was earnest, and he felt the fist tucked into his pocket gradually relax a bit. “It’s just weird putting it into words, y’know? I kind of chickened out of talking to my friends about it, and even to—” You stopped yourself short, and he could see you backpedaling in your brain. “Anyways, it just felt weird? I think it would have been a really nice night if I actually saw him in that light. But at the same time, I kind of want to try and give it a chance. Does that make sense?”

He nodded, tension falling out of his shoulders. “It does. I mean, sometimes there’s just no spark, y’know?” He added. “I was just worried he did something to make you uncomfortable or something.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. You don’t have to worry.”

“Okay, that’s good,” he murmured, licking his lips. “I’m just curious—” he piped up, “—and you don’t have to tell me, but who did you go out with?”

One of the baristas from behind the counter called your names, and the two of you both stepped forward. Sunwoo took a long stride to get there before you, and handed you your cup for you.

You murmured a “thanks” to him first before stirring in a packet of sugar. “Liu Yangyang. Do you know him?”

Did he? Yangyang was one of the people Sunwoo recognized from not only around campus, but as a person who made music online, too. Even if Yangyang was in the same year as him, Sunwoo always admired the man’s flow and way with words. It made so much sense that Yangyang would pursue you, someone equally talented and charismatic, especially if the two of you were the same major.

A tightening sensation creeped into Sunwoo’s chest as he marinated on the revelation further. If you couldn’t see someone like Yangyang in a romantic light, then where did that put himself?

As Sunwoo let his intrusive thoughts get the best of him, you finished preparing your coffee.

“I’ve gotta run now,” you told him with a soft-cornered grin. “It was nice seeing you, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo managed a smile back at you, head bobbing in some semblance of a nod, before you were exiting the shop. He stood there for a moment to gather his wits, his thoughts, and his dignity.

“Did that really just happen?” He muttered to himself. He took his coffee with him to find an empty table and retrieved his study materials from his bag. Technically, he didn’t even have to listen to the rest of the podcast, but… who was he kidding?

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

“YOU’RE coming with me to the practice rooms, right?” Ji Changmin trailed behind Sunwoo as the two of them shouldered into Sunwoo and Eric's shared apartment with their bags and leftovers from today's lunch. It had been about a week and a half since he had bumped into you at that café and he had been feeling over the interaction since.

Sunwoo popped open the refrigerator while his friend perched on one of the breakfast bar stools, his duffle bag dumped at his feet. "Uh, yeah. 'Course, hyung," he said, shifting some groceries from JC!Yn around to make space for his white plastic container.

A thought occurred to him, and he groaned. "But you're gonna have to go first—without me," he clarified. He grabbed the carton of orange juice out to pour himself a glass, facing his friend's curious look.

Changmin's brows furrowed. "Wait, why not?"

It was a reasonable question, as it went against Sunwoo's normal pattern of behavior. Usually, Sunwoo would tag along with Changmin to the practice rooms at the back of the performing arts building. Changmin was a dance major, and with the highly anticipated winter dance showcase just around the corner, it was important that he got that practice in. Plus, with Eric out of town for an away game, Sunwoo was left alone in the apartment, which wasn't exactly his favorite thing. He would much rather go out and be around other people… unless there was something else occupying him.

Today, that certain occupation came in the form of your first live podcast session, something you were trying out. It was just going to be a live audio stream, so you could stay anonymous with your pseudonym, and answer people's submissions live. You had been advertising it for the past week, having excluded the weekly podcast in order to prepare for today.

Sunwoo was excited as you were and wanted to support you and be one of the people tuning in live. This was important to him, and he had even gone so far as to plan out his day.

"I just have something I need to turn in before the day ends," he said easily, shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. He lifted the glass of orange juice to his mouth for a languid gulp.

Changmin made a teasing noise of disappointment. "Aye, you know if Chanhee were here he'd be on your ass, right?" He chuckled, the dimple of his smile pressing into his cheek.

Sunwoo pouted when he lowered the glass. "If Chanhee or JC!Yn were here, I wouldn't have admitted to procrastination. I have self-preservation skills."

"And you don't think I'd be on your ass?" Changmin gasped dramatically with a hand pressed to his chest.

With tongue in cheek, Sunwoo grinned amusedly. He shook his head, adjusting the hood pulled over him. "Hyung, you can't ding me for procrastination when you procrastinate religiously. Remember that one time you had to beg Professor Ka—"

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

Sunwoo's chuckle turned into nervous laughter as Changmin reached across the island with a claw-shaped hand. "Ah! No! You stay away—go practice!"

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

Soon after, Changmin indeed took his leave to head over to the performing arts hall. Sunwoo drained the juice in his cup and refilled it before making a beeline for his bedroom.

The livestream was projected to last for an hour, about the length of a usual episode, but you did say the timing wasn't set in stone. Sunwoo set himself up at his desk, signing into the platform you always used. Over the past couple of months he was Rhapsody, he'd become one of your regulars, suggesting new and old songs from his music library, talking about his day or week or something the last podcast had reminded him of. He liked to think that the two of you were friends—parasocially.

A guy could dream, right?

He was on his phone when the waiting room faded and became a split screen: one half with a sketched sign that read "ON AIR: COMING TO YOU LIVE!" with a little dove in headphones, and the other half was a live chat feed that people who were tuned in could use. There was both a public and private feature, and Sunwoo kept his on the public chat, unafraid of what a bunch of other people behind anonymous names and screens could do to scare him.

"Oh! Woah, I think that worked," came your voice, loud and clear, through his laptop speakers.

He smiled to himself, reaching over to settle his fingers on his keyboard. A tingling feeling bubbled up inside him, starting from his toes and rocketing up through his chest. He could actually talk to you in real time today.

You clapped lightly on the other side, relief pouring through your voice. "Thank god. I'm supposed to be good with some computer programs, but this livestream feature is kind of new. How're we doing, everyone? It seems…" A couple clicks from your end, "... We've got some more people rolling in. I'll give it a couple minutes, but let me know who we've got here today! It's so cool seeing you guys live!"

Sunwoo was swift to type out a greeting message: Dovey hi!! He paired it with a little, hand-waving emoji.

The small gasp of delight from you had him giggling to himself. "Oh my god, Rhapsody! Hi, best friend, welcome in! We might actually be able to hold a conversation for once," you chuckled.

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

rhapsody anonymous: did u have a good week? it felt weird without an ep from u 🤧

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

He rushed to type as you continued with answering his question: No no! Don’t worry, I don’t blame you or anything lol it’s just something I look forward to every week.

“...Ah,” you said after skimming over his message. “Understood—and aw, I’m glad it’s something you look forward to every week. That makes me really happy to hear… oh! It looks like the numbers are becoming a little stagnant, so I’m gonna get started. Hi, everyone! Welcome to the live edition of Songbird Station. I’m your host…”

— ✶

An hour later, Sunwoo ended up seated at the kitchen counter, drinking orange juice straight out of the nearly-depleted carton, while the livestream continued on. The whole experience had been one of a kind, and by the way you were able to seamlessly speak and engage with your audience for the entire time made Sunwoo feel warm and fuzzy. He was glad this was working out for you.

There was a gradual lull in conversation, however, and you were just wrapping up your last topic to bring your first livestream to an organic stop.

“...wanna thank you all for being here, of course. 57 people listening to my voice for over an hour is kind of crazy, but this was a lot of fun!...”

Sunwoo was just about to start typing up a message to you when his phone buzzed on the counter beside his laptop. He startled, fumbling with the device and grumbling under his breath until he saw who it was and picked up the call.

“Hyung?” He squeezed the phone between his ear and shoulder, attempting to finish his private message to you. I was wondering if I could…|

Changmin’s voice came out breathy and panting like he had just finished a run-through. “Hey, are you done with your assignment yet?”

I was wondering if I could hang back for…| “Huh?” Why couldn’t he multitask, for god’s sake? I was wondering if I could hang back for a minute? If it’s weird though, then it’s no problem…|

No, that wasn’t weird, right? Totally not. He pressed the 'enter' key, satisfied with the message.

“What were you saying?” Sunwoo asked and picked up the phone with his hand. His eyes flickered back to his laptop screen to find that you had sent him a private message back.

Changmin let out a grumbling sigh. “I was just thinking—”

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

He could hear his friend’s eye roll from here. “When you get here Kim Sunwoo…”

“Okay, okay, okay!” He chuckled as he read your message and silently punched the air in celebration. “What do you want? I was in the middle of something.”

“Rude! And I was calling you because I was thinking about you,” Changmin huffed. “Anyway, I was just going over some of the movement for Juyeon and my ‘Light a Flame’ duet, right? And I came up with this combo that would be perfect for three people—”

Sunwoo sucked in a breath. “Oh, nonono!”

“But!”

“No!” Sunwoo protested. “Hyung, you know that I don’t… y’know, I can’t dance up there with you and Juyeon hyung! That’s way too much pressure; you’re both so good at dance.” He pressed his finger against the edge of the counter and began mindlessly dragging it along the surface. There had originally been plans of Sunwoo joining Changmin and Juyeon’s dance partnership for this year’s winter showcase performance, but Sunwoo backed out. The winter showcase was far too large of an event for Sunwoo could even fathom participating in, let alone dancing with two of the best dancers he knew. There was just no way.

Changmin sighed from the other end. He’d heard this argument before and he’d argued against this argument plenty of times. “Okay, fine. See you in how long?”

Sunwoo placed his phone onto the counter again so he could tell you that he was still here and hadn’t just left you hanging. “Uh, give me like, thirty minutes.”

“Alright. I better see your ass here in thirty minutes, Sunwoo.”

“Yeah, I know. See ya, hyung.” He hung up then, shoulders sagging slightly from the conversation. It wasn’t like he had to participate in the winter showcase—he was no dance major, nor was he a dance minor. He technically hadn’t even decided on a minor, and had only been focusing on getting this degree finished. Whether or not he had chosen a minor yet was not his parents’ favorite discussion when they visited him, but… it would get done when he had the energy to. He didn’t want to bring up the idea of a dance minor—he saw what it did to Changmin and his parents’ relationship and—well, it was just better this way, for now.

Having finished with his phone call, Sunwoo returned his focus to you, where, god bless, you were still waiting for him in the livestream room.

rhapsody anonymous: omg i’m SO sorry!! >< a friend of mine just called and turns out i am awful at multitasking

“No worries,” you laughed. “I figured that was the case. Everything okay, Rhaps?”

The corners of his mouth curled up at the thoughtful ask. Even when the two of you had been classmates, you were new to the school, but still made him feel like the two of you had known each other for longer than simply a few weeks. It only made sense that you were the host of this podcast, the very thing that had been his source of comfort as of late.

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

rhapsody anon: i just have this friend who’s doing the winter showcase and i was supposed to go to the practice room with him

rhapsody anon: actually, i was going to dance and perform w him too but ig i kind of chickened out

He didn’t know why he was telling you all of this; this wasn’t even what he originally intended to talk to you about.

He heard you make a soft sound of understanding. You shifted in your seat. “I see… the winter showcase is a big event though, as I’ve heard from peers and friends. It's probably really intimidating to even perform in the pre-show, you know? Are you a dance student, by chance?”

rhapsody anon: i’m not, but i’ve taken the intro to hiphop course my freshman year and i usually dance for fun w my friend

rhapsody anon: i think i’ve just always been kind of insecure in my abilities to keep up w him?

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

Sunwoo leaned back from the laptop and took his hands off the keyboard. He settled his chin onto his folded arms as he listened to your reply.

“Well, I don’t think you should compare yourself to a dance major, right, Rhaps? I mean, it’s not fair to expect more from yourself when he’s clearly had more experience. And if you enjoy dancing, then I don’t see what the harm in trying to perform or even just being satisfied with private practice sessions is!” You paused for a second to gather your thoughts. “What I’m saying is… is that, I can understand where you might feel insecure, and that’s normal, y’know? And if you’re feeling a little unprepared for this year, there’s always future opportunities.”

Sunwoo peered up at his screen as if he could see you on the other side, speaking to him. He sat up to type out a response. Thanks for hearing me out, it’s nice to feel validated. Sorry this kind of took a downer tone haha it wasn’t my intention, I swear!

You giggled and he swore he was smiling a little too wide now. “No worries, really! I’m glad I could be of help, even if it’s to make sure that you know your feelings are valid. If I’m being honest, one of the few reasons why I even started this podcast thing was to kind of just put my experiences out there in search of validity.” You sighed, “I dunno. It’s a story for another time. I am curious, though, as to why you originally wanted to hang out with me after the others left.”

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

rhapsody anonymous: this isn’t really a song rec, but ig it kind of is… i feel like superstar by taylor swift reminds me of u

He held his breath after he pressed the ‘enter’ key.

“Oh…” your voice was soft in surprise, and it made something like giddiness spike in his chest. “That’s really sweet, Rhaps. I… I’m not sure what to say, but thank you. Genuinely.”

rhapsody anonymous: u don’t have to say anything!! really haha ur work and ur words have touched a lot of people

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

And even after you and he had said goodbye to one another and logged off; even after he was well out of the apartment and on his way to campus, that giddy feeling in his chest still hadn’t left him.

EPISODE FOUR: SHOT THROUGH THE HEART! [AND WE’RE ALL IN PAIN]

DEAD week was not typically something Sunwoo had to worry about, as fortunate as that sounded. There were, obviously, classes that made his stomach queasy and made him feel like the world was crumbling into Hot Cheeto dust, but his classes this quarter had been merciful to say the least. The week before finals week was always something that could be visibly observed on campus: students either manifesting like zombies or zooming around to claim seats in the library; grades rising and falling like the housing market; and snacks and coffee being more commonly consumed than any other moment of the quarter.

It was always a hot pile of shit, no matter the student or major.

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

“—it’s not like we’re the root of all of his problems! I’m just trying to graduate!” Eric halted in the middle of the hallway, causing Sunwoo, whose face was nose-deep in his phone screen, to ram into the baseball player’s back.

“Ow!” He hissed, furiously rubbing the place at his forehead that had collided with the nape of Eric’s neck.

“You’re not paying attention,” said Eric, flatly. He turned to Jacob, who also wasn’t paying attention. “Hyung!”

Jacob’s head lifted from where he was busy smiling down at some orange cat video. “What? Nacho’s learning the periodic table—” He flipped his phone around to show Eric, his face immediately lighting up as he forgot about why he was even mad in the first place.

The three of them were currently in the front half of the performing arts building, heading inwards from the main hall to the backstage area where a couple of their friends were already hanging out. Sunwoo had bumped into Jacob and Eric on his way from one of the campus libraries, and with nothing else better to do (than to study), he tagged along to go find someone to bother. (Jacob and Eric were both STEM majors though, which was weird to Sunwoo since… well, shouldn’t they be bunkered up somewhere trying to survive this quarter’s dead week? Anyways…)

Sunwoo sighed and brushed past his two friends to venture deeper into the building. He could already hear somebody’s music blasting from the sound booth as they rehearsed onstage. Over the past several weeks, everyone had been busy preparing for the winter showcase happening at the end of finals week, right before spring break. Ever since Sunwoo’s talk with you over livestream, he had felt a little better about not joining Changmin and Juyeon on stage this year. Plus, from what he could tell when he watched them practice, they already looked pretty much perfect with just the two of them.

Though, there would always be a part of him that wished he really had the courage to go up there and show the audience what he was made of.

Sunwoo wandered into the main auditorium with his hands tucked into his pockets and the doors closing softly behind him. There was indeed a group practicing their number on the stage at the moment. He could even make out the shapes moving from behind the curtains in the wings as other tech members and dancers rushed to and fro to get to where they needed to. Somewhere in that mass of chaos were his friends.

A familiar voice had him lifting his head toward the sound booth. His eyes widened when he recognized you standing in the booth with Bang Chan, one of the more prominent sound and lighting directors working here at the performing arts center. However, it looked like you were leaving, your hands clumsily wrestling with the zipper on your bag while you continued your conversation with Chan, and while attempting to walk backwards out of the sound booth.

Oh my god, you were going to trip on something if he didn’t help—

Both Sunwoo and Chan pounced toward you as the thought occurred to both of them at the same time.

“Yn, careful!” Sunwoo yelled, as he dove for your phone.

Chan steadied you at the bicep, and you hugged your bag to your chest with a flustered grin. “Oops?”

Chan ruffled your hair as he let you go, nodding his hello to Sunwoo, then ducking back into the booth. You stepped out into the main room and shut the door behind you. “Thanks,” you said to him sheepishly, accepting your phone from him.

The two of you naturally fell into step with one another and Sunwoo let you lead him back out towards the main entrance again. “I didn’t know you worked behind the scenes here,” he told you, cupping the back of his head. If he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall hearing about it from your podcast either. “This is the second time I’ve seen you here,” he chuckled.

You stopped for a minute in the middle of the hallway to get a hold of your things. You had to hike your knee up to properly zip your backpack before hauling it over your shoulder. “Oh, that’s right! Just a couple days ago you were here with your friends, right?”

He gave a bashful sort of grin. He had been here a couple days ago when he came to bother Changmin, and ended up hanging out backstage while Hyunjae’s best friend hosted auditions for her play. It was then that he had seen you hustling about with the Lee Jihoon about lights. He’d been caught so off-guard by seeing you; it was a miracle he managed to even get Changmin to forget about that whole interaction. “Yeah, sorry I was kind of… weird. I didn’t expect you, that's all.”

“Lots of surprise run-ins with us, huh,” you teased, the side of your arm bumping with his as you walked.

Us.

“It’s nice to see you more often though.”

You nodded. “The feeling’s mutual, Sunwoo. Thanks for warning me earlier; I’m usually more careful with my stuff, especially when I’ve got special cargo.” As you said this, you reached back to pat your backpack affectionately.

Sunwoo lifted a brow, opening the door for you as the two of you stepped out into the lobby. “Oh? What kind of special cargo?”

The smile on your face widened. “It’s, uhm, a recording mic, actually! I’ve been coming by to intern around the tech side of things here, and Chan and Jihoon give me some tips about music production, too.” You trailed off, an idea taking hold in your head, and that wide beam from just seconds ago became this shy, little thing. “Hey… would you maybe be up to listening to something of mine? I mean, it’s kind of a weird request, but your music taste from first quarter was top notch—”

“Yes,” Sunwoo said, without even waiting for you to finish your rambling.

You paused, and he rejoiced in the pure delight on your face. “Really? That’s—this is great. Wait, I’m so excited! We’ll need to find a private place to listen, but—”

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

Coming in from the front lobby doors was none other than Han Jisung, a fellow second-year whom Sunwoo was familiar with. He was bundled in a massive, puffy cream jacket with his head shoved into a beanie, and his nose was reddened from the cold. Jisung tucked the earbuds in his ears away into their case, waddling over to you both with the joy of a baby penguin. “And Sunwoo! Woah, it’s so cool to see you, man. What’s up?”

Sunwoo clasped his hand in his. “S’cool to see you, too, dude. Yn and I were just on our way out.”

Jisung moved over to you and pulled you in for an affectionate side hug. “Oh, well, that’s nice to hear,” he snickered, wagging his eyebrows at you while you sent him a pointed look.

Wonder what that was all about…

“Anyways,” continued Jisung, “I just came by to bother Channie-hyung. Is he in the box?”

You bobbed your head in affirmation. “Yup. There isn’t anyone else with him right now, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty of space for you to bug him.”

“Nice,” he grinned. As he walked away in the direction from which you and Sunwoo came, he sent a wave. “See you both around!”

“Bye!” Both you and Sunwoo called back before resuming your walk out the front entrance.

“So how do you—” The two of you laughed when you both started talking at the same time, saying the same thing. Sunwoo gestured toward you, insisting that you ask the question first. You did: “So how do you know Jisung?”

Sunwoo snorted at the memory. “I, uh, saw him in the hall once and smacked his ass, then asked for his number.”

You had to stop to double over in laughter, clutching your stomach while Sunwoo looked on in flustered amusement. Your face had heated up considerably, and you barely managed to follow him down the steps toward the bus stop. “You what?” You asked, once you could get out anything other than wheezes.

He chuckled, shrugging. “Okay, well, I actually know him from this music summer camp we both went to in high school. I didn’t realize he came to this uni until I saw him last year and… well, made my presence known to him.”

You clapped your hands together and collapsed onto the bus bench. “I was gonna say—that’s one hell of a hello.”

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

The two of you shared a laugh for a moment and Sunwoo took a seat beside you, his knee bouncing up and down as you waited for the bus to come by. He nudged your shoulder with his. “So what about you then? How do you know Han?”

“Hm? Ah, I just know him ‘cause we share the same major-ish. I’m sound and music production, and he’s just a general music major,” you explained. “We also share a composition class, as well as a writing course. Did you know the guy is a fantastic poet?”

Sunwoo’s eyebrows arched upward. “I would not be surprised; the guy’s an ace.”

“Totally agree.” You fidgeted with your phone between your hands. “He was also one of my first friends here after I transferred. He’s kind of shy, but he’s one of the good eggs you can meet.”

A nod. He glanced over at you, his eyes breathing in the far away look on your face. “Yeah, he is. But hey, at least you got to befriend him then, hm? Maybe some things are just meant to be.”

You met his gaze and Sunwoo felt his heart stutter into a gallop. “Yeah,” you murmured, “I think so, too.”

— ✶

You and Sunwoo ended up in one of the booths of the restaurants on the Avenue. It was a cozy, little hole in the wall with soup that tasted like home and made your belly feel warm and content. You had set up shop at your table, your laptop with the audio file pulled up and your wired earbuds plugged in. You had to power all of your will into not showing Sunwoo how nervous you were for him to listen to this—your fingers shook slightly even as you passed him both of your earbuds.

In an attempt to pass off as cool, calm and totally collected, you brought your glass of water to your mouth to sip on. You'd thought to order food first, then let Sunwoo listen to the file.

"Let me know if you can't hear anything," you blurted out just before he put the buds in.

He paused, then smiled. "I got it," he assured you warmly.

Once the buds were fitted and the song started playing, you could only wait and watch to gauge his reaction.

At first, his eyes widened a smidge. Then he slowly began nodding to the beat, eyes falling closed as he soaked in the electric guitar chords mixed in that Jisung helped you out with. You watched him lean back in his seat… saw the smile bloom on his face, wide like a flower opening its petals to greet the brilliant sun.

And that beautiful smile… oh, he was so pretty when he smiled.

It was a couple minutes later that his eyelids finally fluttered open, and yet that smile on his face remained ingrained there. He passed you your earbuds as you awaited the verdict. "Girl, you've got pipes," he said with emphasis, his face screwed up in an expression one could only describe as appreciative. "Like—oh my god, I want that bridge tattooed on my forehead," he groaned and leaned forward to bury his face in his palms.

Your heart could fly, soar, literally ascend to fucking space! You smiled, big and wide, as you wrapped up the wire chords around three fingers. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Liked it?" He perked up, then melted to the table as he mumbled into his hoodie sleeve, "I could kis…" You didn't catch the end bit of his sentence as his voice dissipated into the fabric of his shirt.

"What'd you say?"

When he lifted his head, his cheekbones had flushed a shade of rose gold. He cupped the back of his neck with a nervous laugh, "Nothing! It was nothing. I just—I just love it, Yn. Really, I mean it. I'm not just saying that because we're friends—"

"Ah, so we're friends?" You jested, even as your heart skipped like a pebble across the surface of a lake.

Sunwoo blinked, lips pursed. "We're not friends?"

"No, I'm only kidding!" You said and leaned your cheek against your fist. "Your reaction was cute though."

You swore something shuddered across his face, but you didn't have much time to analyze it when you felt a presence make himself clear at the head of the table.

Yangyang appeared in a warm-looking jacket and scarf, his eyes flickering curiously between you and Sunwoo. You suddenly felt an anxious spike in your chest at the thought of what this might have looked like to him. That was, until he saw the laptop, of course. You saw the relief in his shoulders, the ease in which he smiled now. "Hey Yn-ie, didn't know you'd be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo scratch his jawline, then scoot forward and offer his hand to Yangyang. "Hey, I'm Sunwoo. You're Yangyang, aren't you?"

Yangyang clasped Sunwoo's hand good naturedly with a typical gummy smile. "Yeah, that's me. It's nice to meet you."

"I was just showing him the project," you said next, drawing both of the boys' attention to you.

"Ah," your friend nodded. "How'd you like it, Sunwoo?"

Sunwoo lit up. "It was—incredible. I don't even know how to describe it, y'know? If it was on my Spotify, it'd probably be on my Wrapped."

There went your heart, goodness. You and Sunwoo locked eyes across the table, and you wished you could convey how much his words meant to you by just a look.

"Totally agree," Yangyang nodded. "My Yn-ie's got a gift and she knows how to use it." He gave your head a gentle pat, and heat rose to your cheeks from the bombardment of attention. It hit you subtly, an epiphany—

Yangyang cleared his throat then and returned his hand to his side. "Anyways, I'll leave you two to it. I'll talk to you later?" He asked you as he was already taking a step backward.

—the heat wasn't for him. It simply wasn't.

"Yeah! I'll shoot you a text later," you promised. You realized then that you had barely even spoken to Yangyang since your Valentine's Day date ended several weeks ago. There had just been a lot of mixed feelings churning around in your head that needed time to be sorted out. (And it was currently being resolved.) With a slight inward grimace, you turned your focus back to the guy you'd brought here in the first place.

Sunwoo slid your laptop over to your side of the table. "Soooo… you and Yangyang, huh?" He laughed, and you weren't certain, but it sounded a bit unsteady.

You played with the hem of your sweater sleeve. "I mean, kind of? Not really? We went on that date a while back, if you remember, but that's about it."

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, and we also haven't had time to really properly talk since?" You winced. "I guess it's not really as bad as I make it sound. It's just that, we've pretty much known each other since primary school. He had just moved from Taiwan, and we were pretty good friends. And he would move back and forth between here and this one town in Germany, but we would always—" you made a vague gesture, "—find each other? Is that the word?"

You let out a breathy sort of laugh. "I'm sorry, I dunno why I'm telling you my history with this guy. It's stupid."

Sunwoo frowned and shook his head. "It's not stupid, Yn."

You inhaled, then chewed on your cheek. "It's just that I always feel like people don't really stick around, at least for me. But Yangyang… he's been one of the few constants in my life, and I'm really grateful for that."

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' with this."

You indulged him. "But I'm starting to think that maybe I can't really see him as that kind of constant, if that makes sense." Your brows furrowed in thought. The boat you were on rocked roughly with the waves, the water turbulent and unsteady, as if at any moment it could throw you off. But you were used to the rocking, and you weren't sure why you should be so used to it. Settling for Yangyang even though you were beginning to realize that he probably wasn't The One? That was like staying docked in a home port you'd grown used to when you yearned for the horizon.

You heard Sunwoo crack his knuckles, and perhaps there really was a certain sheen to his eyes then. "I don't want to put words in your mouth," he drawled carefully, "and I can't imagine how exactly you feel and I don't know your whole story. But it has to be hard when it feels like, I don't know, like people are moving on without you." The earnestness in his eyes made his dark brown eyes deeper and richer. "And maybe it's comfortable with Yangyang and you want to try with him because you know that you two will always somehow find each other again."

"You kind of put what I was thinking into coherent sentences there," you mused, the corners of your lips curling upward.

Sunwoo reflected your expression. "That's good to hear, because I was pretty sure I sounded arrogant."

You laughed then, shaking your head. "No, I appreciated that. And you got it right." Breathing a sigh, you saw a waiter coming by to drop off the food the two of you had ordered. "I think it's just taken me some time with myself and with—with other people to make me realize it."

He glanced up with thanks as the waiter passed you your meals, and you swore you saw his hand make a move to reach for yours across the table. But he stopped short, and instead, helped move your hot bowl of soup over to you. "You never know," he said sheepishly, "The One could be right under your nose."

— ✶

eric 🤨: dude where did u go??? cobie hyung and i looked up and u disappeared into thin air

eric 🤨: omg jisung said u went somewhere w a GIRL??? IS THIS THE GIRL U WERE GETTING ALL DRUNK AND SAD ABT 👀

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

Sunwoo made a face around his toothbrush as he spat the frothy white into the sink bowl. “For the millionth time, yes.” Through the mirror, Sunwoo watched Eric’s face as his roommate perched himself atop the kitchen counter and went quiet, his face pensive. After coming home to Eric’s confrontation, Sunwoo promised to explain it all in the morning to him.

It was unfortunately the morning, meaning Sunwoo had spent the past hour bringing Eric up to speed on his nonexistent love life. Fortunately, it was also a Wednesday morning, which meant you had just posted your newest episode of the podcast, and Sunwoo could force Eric to listen to it with him. A part of him was tense at the thought of no longer “gatekeeping” his little secret that he had kept for the past several months, but this was Eric, one of his best friends. Maybe this would lift a weight off of Sunwoo’s chest by finally telling someone.

“...I’m still in the thrall of dead week,” your voice blasted from the speaker of Sunwoo’s phone at high volume, “and it’s come to my attention that next quarter will probably be a lot for me. I guess this is me forewarning you all that I might be late with some episodes because I’ve got this new internship thing.”

Sunwoo dunked his face into the sink bowl as he splashed water over his lathered foam cleanser. “She’s talking about her internship at the performing arts center.”

“How do you—never mind, forget I asked.”

Sunwoo patted his face dry, then opened the medicine cabinet for all of the skincare products he used to start off the day.

“...It’s been awhile since I’ve recommended something myself, so today, do enjoy ‘gone too long’ by lullaboy with me.” The song began a few seconds after you queued it up, and the apartment was then filled with muted vocals and strings.

Sunwoo straightened. He and Eric went quiet for a while as they both let the song sink in. Sunwoo continued to slather sunscreen on his face and neck, and Eric had started up the stove to make a batch of ramen for the both of them.

A peculiar sensation draped itself over Sunwoo’s shoulders, a blanket of something that wasn’t quite calm and wasn’t quite jittery. He didn’t know how to pinpoint or label the weird tightness in his chest. The song was strangely intimate, as almost all the music Sunwoo listened to was, but when it came from another person, it was always a whole new level of intimate. Whenever someone recommended a song, it was a way to view a piece of them—perhaps not a large piece, but a piece nonetheless. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then music was the viewfinder.

Maybe he missed you. But that didn’t make sense—it… it couldn’t make sense. He saw you yesterday, and he was listening to you now. How could he miss you?

“She has good taste,” Eric murmured as the song faded out.

Sunwoo nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah. She does.”

“...Hopefully when you miss me you’ll play that song,” he heard you say in a lighthearted tone, even though he felt almost like the complete opposite. “On that note, Rhaps sent in a message asking about the dance showcase coming up! ‘Are you planning on going, and if so, any acts you’re looking forward to? Isn’t it crazy that we could be sitting next to each other and never even know?’ —”

Eric perked up, his head peering over his shoulder to look at Sunwoo as he came out of the bathroom to join Eric in the kitchen. “That’s you? Rhaps?”

“Rhapsody Anonymous,” Sunwoo corrected. “And don’t judge me!” He added with a pointed look, finger jabbing in Eric’s direction.

Eric shook his head with a giddy sort of grin. “I didn’t say anything.”

For a moment, the two boys went quiet with only your voice and the sounds of the stove keeping them company.

A thought occurred to Eric though, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Does it ever feel like lying?” He asked and gestured for Sunwoo to grab a couple of bowls from the cabinet.

Sunwoo walked over with the soup bowls, then leaned his hip against the counter next to Eric. “Does what feel like lying?”

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

Well… Sunwoo idly scratched his jaw. “I guess I never thought about it like that,” he said. All this time, he’d figured it was probably better that he didn’t bring it up to you. After all, you used a pseudonym for a reason and didn’t show your face. Maybe this was just supposed to be your secret passion project that you used as a safe space. He didn’t want to burst your bubble by confronting you with that information. How would he even go about doing it? Oh hey, by the way, I’ve known that you’re this podcast host DJ Dove for a very long time? That probably had ‘awkward’ written all over it.

Eric passed him a pointed glance. “Something to think about then.”

— ✶

Finals week had come and gone, a hurricane of destruction in its own right. But when the storm passed, it gave way to the beautiful cherry blossoms blooming in the quad. As per university tradition, the quad was filled to the brim with students, staff, and tourists alike gathering to pose in the falling pink petals that marked the coming of Spring Break. This was no different for Sunwoo’s friend group who was dragged out to the event by none other than Choi Chanhee. In an effort to appease his friend in some aspect, Sunwoo had come dressed in something decently presentable: black cargo pants, blue denim jacket, and his face fitted in a pair of dark frames (that were definitely not just frames or missing the lenses…).

He shoved his hands into his pockets after taking a peak at the time on his watch. The group had been here for about ten minutes thus far, and half of them had already split off with their significant others to take their own rounds about the quad. They weren't the only ones—in fact, there were probably as many couples as there were people taking grad photos and cosplay photos.

And wait, someone had come in their wedding dress—nothing spelled out Sunwoo's singleness more potently than a couple getting married.

He took a panoramic glance and accidentally watched another couple go in for a kiss. He looked away with a slight frown, blowing a curl out of his eyes. "I hate this more than Valentine's Day," he grumbled.

From beside him, Kevin Moon sighed as he tested a shot with his camera and had to adjust the settings for the right exposure. "You're telling me." When he raised his camera up again, he immediately had to bring it back down with a deadpan expression, "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."

As the group's self-proclaimed Dad, Lee Sangyeon, summoned the attention of the boys who were present for a partial group photo. Sunwoo smiled for it, then returned to his frown. Chanhee had his camera held up as he attempted to take a selfie shot since he had been staking out this one tree trunk that a group of people had just left. Sunwoo had to admire the way Chanhee wordlessly swooped in like a vulture over a dead carcass.

"Aye, Kim Sunwoo," Chanhee exclaimed and beckoned Sunwoo over with a curl of his two fingers. Chanhee's head scanned the immediate area and his nose wrinkled when he realized he was missing someone. "Where did Changmin go? He was literally right… ah."

Chanhee's voice trailed off and a sly, little grin when he located the man in question. "Look."

Sunwoo followed Chanhee's gaze across the field to where he was sneaking up behind a familiar person. Sunwoo had met this girl twice, once when he and Changmin had gone looking for Jacob and the other when he went with Changmin to go see her for moral support. Both times, strangely, had been at the lab. Huh, did she even go home…?

But then Sunwoo observed the way Changmin and CM!Yn looked at each other. Though Sunwoo had seen Changmin's eyes light up before, this was a different sort of twinkle, something softer. There had always been a cloud hanging over Changmin when it came to this girl, always some kind of bittersweetness that held him back. It made a smile crawl onto his lips at the sight of Changmin so happy.

"Wah," Chanhee murmured in awe. "They really mended their relationship well, don't you think?"

Sunwoo pursed his lips with an indulgent nod. "Yeah, I'd think so."

His friend sighed. "Oh, well. Looks like it's just us two then."

Sunwoo stepped forward and took Chanhee's phone from him, swiftly changing it to the forward facing camera. Chanhee struck a few poses beneath the blush pink trees as he soaked in the golden hour sunlight streaking across the lawn. Eventually, Sunwoo turned the camera back around to take shots of both himself and Chanhee.

He adjusted the phone so that the selfie mode could capture both of them when he spotted Chanhee scuttling back over toward him with a pile of pink petals collected in his palms.

Sunwoo's eyes went wide and he leapt backward away from his grinning friend. "Hyung, come on, let's talk about this."

Chanhee cackled and inched forward still. His hair was the exact same color as the flowers cupped in his palms. "Sunwoo-ah," he sang, "I think your hair needs a bit of color."

"I just did my hair this morning!" He whined and pleaded desperately. The last thing he needed was to be plucking stray petals from his curls later tonight. When Chanhee still wouldn't quit, adrenaline began to pump through Sunwoo's veins in anticipation for what he needed to do next. "Chanhee hyung! We can be civil about this."

"Civility is overrated!"

Just as Chanhee pounced, Sunwoo swerved on the ball of his foot and made a mad dash toward the other side of the quad. Chanhee's giggles filled the late afternoon air like the twinkling of bells, and though it was probably an amusing sight for onlookers, Sunwoo was running for his life.

Sunwoo pumped his legs furiously as he weaved in between people standing and taking their pictures, screaming out apologies for photobombing them as he went. And when he nearly tripped over someone's dog, he managed to lock eyes with yours.

You. Oh my god, you were here.

He had little time to fully comprehend what he was about to do, but he made a beeline for you.

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

Sunwoo grabbed your shoulders and careened himself behind you, his face partially hidden behind yours. "I'm sorry, but—" he screeched, "—he's threatening to ruin my hair!"

Chanhee laughed as he stopped in front of you and Sunwoo. His pale cheeks were dusted with the color of the flowers in the air. "Ah, well, hello. This isn't very gentlemanly of you, Sunwoo. Who's this?" He threw Sunwoo a look over your shoulder.

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

Sunwoo laughed sheepishly and let go of your shoulders to clasp the back of his neck. It was only then he realized you were wearing a delicate, pastel sundress with cherry blossoms littered in your own hair. A gentle breeze wafted by and through your skirt and brushed back a few strands of your hair too.

Pretty…

"This is," he stammered, snapping out of his daze, "Yn. Yn-ie, this is one of my close friends, Chanhee."

"It's nice to meet you," Chanhee said with a warm smile and slight bow of his head.

You gave a little wave. "Nice to meet you, too, despite the circumstances."

"I would wave back," Chanhee gestured with his hand of flowers, "but this is a nice pile, don't you think?"

To your credit, you played along. You laughed, "I totally agree. It definitely should not be wasted on giving me a wave. Though, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to get back at Sunwoo." You turned your head and cocked a brow at him, to which he smiled back boyishly.

Chanhee considered you again for a moment. "I like your style. I guess I'll just… leave you to it then," he drawled and sent Sunwoo very pointed glances with his eyes toward you. Something about the way Chanhee's eyes narrowed minutely made Sunwoo want to hide behind you again.

Chanhee whistled a merry tune as he went on his way, leaving you and Sunwoo to your own devices as he probably went to go find his next victim.

"I'm so sorry about that," Sunwoo lamented as soon as Chanhee was out of ear shot. "I did not mean to make you a human shield."

You chuckled. "It's okay, dude, really. Definitely didn't think I'd find anyone I knew in this mess, so it's nice seeing you out here."

Sunwoo gave you yet another once over and felt heat crawl up the column of his neck. "I—you look really pretty," he said, gesturing to your outfit.

"Oh, thank you," you chirped. "You clean up quite well yourself."

The two of you shared a smile then and for a second, Sunwoo's mouth went dry and no words leapt from his tongue. They all remained lodged in his throat where his heartbeat went pitter-patter.

He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with you for a moment.

You made a vague nod toward one of the open benches lining the perimeter of the quad, an invitation. "Wanna come sit with me?"

"Do I?" Yes. The answer was yes.

When you and Sunwoo were seated side by side, centimeters separating your arms and legs from touching the other, his heart still had not settled. The adrenaline, in fact, also had her to dissipate. With wide eyes, he soaked everything in.

"Did you go to the winter showcase on Friday night?" He blurted, turning to you.

You met his gaze. "I did. It was such a cool experience, especially since it was my first time. Did you?"

He nodded, locking his lips. "I did, yeah," he murmured. "I had a couple friends performing, so we all went to cheer them on. It's always a really great time though; I'm glad you got to go."

"Oh, that's nice. I always find dancers so impressive," you said with a wistful gleam in your eyes. "Do you dance?"

He found himself fidgeting with Chanhee's phone that he still held onto in his lap. "A little," he admitted bashfully. "I took an intro to hip-hop class last year, and I sometimes dance with my friends. Just—not in public," he said.

For a second, something flickered across your face. But he must have been dreaming because it was gone as quickly as it came.

"So music and dance? You're a multi-talented threat, Sunwoo."

"Aw, not really," he giggled. He wanted to hide his burning face in the collar of his jacket, but there was something about you that also made him unafraid to show you this side of him. Actually, you made this side of him come out. He wasn't usually so terribly shy, always tumbling over his words and doing diction cartwheels… communications major, his ass. "What about you? You're literally a musical genius. You should be on my Spotify Wrapped, Yn."

This time, he could relish in making you flustered. "Aye, you can't say that and expect me not to wanna…" You lost your own words, biting your tongue.

He didn't know what got into him, but he leaned forward closer to you. "Expect you not to what?" He asked lowly, teasingly.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and he swore his own rapidly-beating organ was going to come flying out of his chest.

"Expect me not to—steal your glasses!" With a high-pitched squeal, you snatched the lensless frames from right off his nose.

Sunwoo gasped in scandal, diving to grab them back, but you had already stood up from the bench. "Yah! Those were expensive frames!"

Your face lit up as you donned them. "You'll have to take it off my face then!"

"Bet!" And he lurched after you as you took off into the setting sun.

Your voices echoed across the quad: "Jisuuuuuung! Jisung, save me!"

"Jisung can't save you when he's scared of me!"

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

"It's not a date!" Sunwoo stopped abruptly in the middle of his living room where he had been wearing a hole in the wood floors from pacing. He whirled on his sock-clad heels to face his sofa of judges, Changmin and Chanhee. Eric was out with his girlfriend watching the newest action movie that had come out over Spring Break. "She would say if it was a date, right?"

Chanhee smacked his palm against his forehead with a puff of air. Changmin, however, leaned back on the couch with a ponderous look on his face and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "She probably would. She seems like she has more balls than you."

"Hey!"

Changmin grinned. "Just saying." He then leaned down to pick up his duffle bag sitting at his feet. "I've gotta run now, but let me know how it goes."

Sunwoo leveled a scowl at him as he passed by to go to the door. "I hope CM!Yn trips you in the practice room."

"Into her arms!" He hollered back, which was swiftly followed by the front door slamming shut.

While Changmin was headed out to meet CM!Yn at the practice room for her first time returning to dance after three years, Sunwoo and Chanhee were left to prepare Sunwoo for today's agenda. Yesterday, you and he had traded numbers, to which you had immediately asked if he'd wanted to hang out with you some more over Spring Break. The answer had been as easy as counting to three.

Now the only problem was to not freak out over it.

"You're picking up lunch, aren't you?" Chanhee asked as he shoved Sunwoo into the bathroom.

Sunwoo nodded shallowly and picked up his round brush and blow-dryer. "Mhm. I'm meeting her at the performing arts building, and we're gonna take the metro up to Lake Anchor. Ever been up there?"

Chanhee fixed the collar of Sunwoo's white button-up, then snatched the brush and blowdryer out of his hands to do it for him. "Nope. Heard it's nice up there though."

"Yeah," Sunwoo muttered, nearly dropping the serum bottle in his hands. "She said her friend Sieun recommended it."

"Ah."

It wouldn't have felt like a date as much if Sunwoo hadn't searched up Lake Anchor when you'd texted him about it last night. The place was gorgeous, a certified calendar-worthy landscape with purple mountain majesties in the back and shores lined with emerald green hills and willow trees. It didn't help that the Reddit pages all deemed it a "couple's picnic spot you can't miss." Oh, he wasn't going to miss it, all right.

Thirty minutes later, he found himself outside the doors to the performing arts center where you said you were currently taking a tech lesson from Bang Chan. He had a paper bag of snacks and sandwiches from the local convenience store in one hand and the other tucked away into his pocket.

He wondered if he could go in and see you, but he'd already texted you he was waiting outside, and you'd replied you were on your way out.

Just as he was about to go sit on one of the benches, one of the doors at the entrance opened. You emerged out into the late spring morning with the breeze in your hair, a tote bag slung over one shoulder, and a ukulele case hanging from the other. You smiled wide at him and waved.

Sunwoo's lips parted into a grin. "Hi. I got us snacks," he said and lifted the brown bag in his hand.

"Sunwoo, you didn't have to," you pursed your lips fondly, adjusting your bag straps.

"I wanted to." The two of you fell into step in the direction of the closest metro station. It would be a short walk from here into the university Avenue, and down a block to the station. Everything was conveniently placed in the name of accessibility. "Plus, I didn't really eat breakfast," he admitted.

"Me neither." You cupped half your face with your palm. "Aish. I always forget I have, like, yogurt in the fridge, y'know?"

Sunwoo chuckled. "Yeah, I get that. My roommate and I always forget that we have groceries in the fridge because we always see the ramen packets on the counter instead. How was the lesson with Chan?"

The two of you stopped at the intersection to wait for the light. You hugged your ukulele to your chest. "It was good! He's always really helpful and knowledgeable—and patient," you mused. "I hope you don't mind me bringing my uke along though. I thought it would be a nice form of entertainment once we got up to the lake."

"I'm not entertaining enough for you," he gasped melodramatically, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.

You laughed, and the sound made him break his pout and smile. "I thought I would be the entertaining one for once. D'you know how to play?"

The crosswalk sign turned on for you, and you both made your way across.

"I know some guitar," Sunwoo answered, "but just the basics. They teach you a bit at summer music camp." As he walked by your side, he felt his hand brush against the back of yours. "My hyung—Jacob—he plays guitar pretty well. He's good at singing, too, like you."

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

"He did it to woo his girlfriend," he jested, sticking his tongue in his cheek when he remembered how JC!Yn brought him and Haknyeon up to speed last quarter about her love life antics.

You chuckled. "That's a shame you know the trick," you said with an impish twinkle in your eyes, "because that was exactly my plan."

Sunwoo came to a screeching halt in the middle of the walkway, and when you realized he was still staring wide-eyed at the sidewalk, you let out a laugh and went back to drag him along to the station.

— ✶

The view was something out of a magazine, the kind that took one's breath away. You and Sunwoo had claimed the shade beneath a willow tree and settled down across from each other with the brown paper bag flattened out to display the feast he had purchased. There were other small groups of people around, as well, all of whom seemed to have the same ideas as you two as they soaked up sun, read books and napped in the shade, and picnicked along the grassy shoreline. There was even a small booth a mile down the bank that rented out swan-shaped paddle boats and canoes for people to take out onto the water.

You and Sunwoo had pretty much demolished all of the goodies he brought with him. The conversation had been flowing, simple and organic, and you felt at peace—that was the best way to describe it. Maybe it was the location, the circumstance, the company, or all three.

You picked up your ukulele from where it laid in its case by your side. "Any suggestions?" You queried, taking the instrument out and checking that it was in tune.

Sunwoo brushed his hands of crumbs and braced his palms on the grass behind him. It was the visual of him in that white shirt, his sleeves rolled up and collarbone exposed, jawline clean and sharp as he gazed out at the view that made your heart race again. "Hmm," he hummed, "what did you first learn on it?"

"I think I taught myself Lemonade by Jeremy Passion," you said to him and scoured your brain for the right chords. You strummed a G-flat minor, and when it sounded about right, you shifted to B, until you managed to jog your memory of all four chords.

He watched you with softened eyes, his knees pulled up to his chest now as he leaned his cheek onto the tops of his knees. "That's a good song," he murmured.

"Do you know the lyrics?"

He chuckled, shaking his head and flicking his wrist. "Oh, no, no. I don't sing."

"Doesn't sound like you can't," you quipped back with a teasing tilt in your smile. You swayed a little as you played the tune over and over again. "A little shy, are we?"

You could see the smile peeking from his lips even when he tried to hide it in his arms. "I don't sing a lot."

"If I sang the first verse, would you join me in the chorus?" You offered as a compromise. You wouldn't push after this if he still refused, but there was a part of you that felt like you needed to hear this beautiful man sing for you.

He balked for a second, toeing at the dirt. Then, "Okay. I'll join in at the chorus."

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

You were a little shaky going in yourself. Though you had definitely practiced this song more times than you could count, performing it for someone else was always like playing it for the first time. And you wanted Sunwoo to enjoy it, and to be impressed by you. You wanted to do well for him and to be able to encourage him.

As he said he would, you heard him join in at the chorus—softly, at first, until he was the main vocal and you could bolster him with the harmony.

His eyes met yours, all smiles, as the song continued on. The ending verse… dear god, you could fall over from pure giddiness at the way he nailed the runs and you could do a little showing off with your strumming. Shivers, just plain shivers.

"She's exactly what… I need," he crooned, fingers playing absentmindedly with a strand of grass.

You let the vibrations of the strings linger in the spring air for a moment. It was like the two of you were encased in this bubble all by yourselves; and it was beautiful. It was perfect.

"I knew you could sing," you said to him. "I just had a feeling."

He hung his head, but the smile on his face could not be suppressed. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For encouraging me," he shook his head. "Believing in me."

You pursed your lips together thoughtfully and you wished you could pick his brain without risking total invasion. "Do people not believe in you often?" You asked quietly, shifting to move yourself around the pile of rolled-up trash and to sit next to him.

He followed your lead, scooting himself next to you until you were no longer opposite, but adjacent. "Not people, just me, I think."

"Ah." You could empathize.

He gave a shallow nod. "Do you ever get scared of making a mistake so you don't—I dunno—go for it? And then you end up thinking that maybe not taking that risk was the mistake?"

You set your ukulele down in the case beside you and mirrored his position, arms looped around your legs. "I do. All the time actually, and it's a scary feeling."

"Yeah," he exhaled. "Sometimes I wish I had just gone into music, full-on. I mean, a communication major is useful and all, but there are times when I wonder where I would have been if I had nurtured that passion."

His words resonated within you. There was a reason why you transferred to this university and decided to leave your original plan behind. You had gone into college with an intent to major in Computer Science, but less than a year in, it had become abundantly clear to you how unhappy you were. Leaving wasn't just a choice, it had been a need.

You turned to look at Sunwoo and you felt your chest tug toward him. You bumped his leg with your knee. "You still have time," you said. "It's not too late to still see where that goes."

But you knew the conflict that warred in his head; you knew it all too well because you had experienced it firsthand. It was much more complicated than simply chasing after one's dreams. There was obligations, expectations, fears, and physical obstacles that made the situation more complex than it seemed at first glance. You didn't know his family situation, didn't know the whole story of why he hadn't taken his summer music camp experiences and translated it into his current college career.

You didn't know it all… but you wanted to. You wanted to know everything about him.

"You said you don't have a minor figured out yet, right?" You asked suddenly, an idea coming to you.

He hummed. "Yeah."

"Well, why don't you choose music as your minor?" When he didn't answer right away, you added, "You obviously don't have to decide right this second—it's just something to think about."

(It seemed he had a lot he needed to think about lately.)

Sunwoo rose up and leaned back onto his palms again. When he turned to look at you, a sense of calm had come over him this time. "I really appreciate you."

You broke into a smile. "I appreciate you, too."

"No, really," he laughed, then bit his lip. "I'm sorry for screwing the mood—"

"You're not! Really," you insisted. "I don't mind. I like having meaningful conversations with people who mean a lot to me."

He didn't even have to say anything, because there was this look, one you simply could not ignore. It made your stomach feel like it was swarmed with butterflies and that you were walking on air. It was like watching him smile while listening to the song you wrote, like walking out of the performing arts center to see him waiting for you. He didn't have to say anything because you knew—you had to. There simply could not be any other explanation, right?

EPISODE SEVEN: WHAT IF SOULS FEEL FAMILIAR FOR A REASON?

YOU had been keeping a secret.

"So what you're saying is that you know that he knows, but he doesn't know that you know that he knows?"

You nodded, arms crossed. "Yeah, pretty much."

Jisung made a face and rested his temple against his palm. "My brain hurts."

From where she was perched on a stool, Park Sieun reached over and patted Jisung's nest of hair. "It is a little confusing. Why don't you just confront him about it?"

"I don't know," you huffed and fell back against the wall. The three of you were holed up in one of the private studios on campus. There weren't many buildings opened since it was still Spring Break, but many of the performing arts facilities were. Jisung had offered for you and Sieun to meet him in the room he had snagged and had been currently occupying in order to bust out as much creative energy as possible. (Newsflash, it was not going well, hence, yours and Sieun's invitations.) Studio rooms were pretty much soundproof, so they were good for those in the music programs who wanted a private space to practice or record things.

You had just brought them up to speed on your latest outing with a certain Kim Sunwoo up to Lake Anchor, as Sieun had so graciously suggested to you the other day. After your outing, however, you'd come to one very solid conclusion.

Well, and there was the matter of The Anonymous Situation.

Just this morning, you had opened your inbox to find another submission from one of your regular anonymous listeners whom you affectionately nicknamed Rhaps. Rhapsody Anonymous had begun to pop up in your inbox just last quarter, and it wasn't until recently that you figured out who it was. At first, it seemed completely implausible for Sunwoo to be the face behind the name, because there was no way out of a whole internet of people that he had managed to stumble across your podcast.

To make matters more complex, you had an inkling that he also knew that you were the host of Songbird Station. He had sent you something along the lines of: "Hey Dovey! I stumbled across this song recently that I haven't heard in awhile. It's called Lemonade, and I realize that I've only actually heard the ukulele vers. LOL anyways, I hope you're not too busy this Spring Break and that you've had time to relax. I've always wondered though… have you ever met someone who feels familiar to you? Not like in a 'I've reunited with you after five years' kind of familiar, but like… something more like kindred spirits……"

The whole message had the same amount of sweetness he always used to contact and interact with you, but the recommendation of the song Lemonade simply could not be a mere coincidence. You just couldn't accept that.

You had pondered this for a long time—the possibility of confronting him about his anonymous persona. And of course, there were several things that held you back from doing so. "I mean," you began, pushing off from the wall to slowly pace the little room available, "I don't want to scare him, y'know? Like I'm sure there's a reason why he goes by a pseudonym like I do, and I don't want to burst that bubble.

"Plus," you continued, "what if I'm just thinking about this all wrong? What if I've read the signs completely out of proportion and he's not actually Rhapsody Anonymous? That would just be embarrassing."

You stopped in front of your friends with your hands positioned on your hips and your head quirked to the side in thought.

"Would it really be so bad if you brought it up, like, even subtly?" Sieun asked you, her pink-tinted lips pursed slightly.

Jisung piped up, too, "Yeah, Sunwoo's a pretty cool guy. And based on what I've seen between the two of you and what you've told us, I don't think he would laugh at you or anything."

"I don't think he would laugh at me either," you confessed. "It's just kinda scary."

The two murmured their agreement. Though Sieun was your trio's only extrovert, you actually had no idea how you'd come to be decently close friends with these two. You chalked it up to all frequenting similar social circles. The music program was always a good way to make friends, and you were glad that it had yet to fail you, even in college.

Sieun made a vague gesture with her hand. "I think you should try, though. I'm sure you'll find a way to slide it in," she chuckled.

Jisung snorted. "I have never seen that man so flustered in his life."

"Yeah, he has to be whipped for you, Yn-ie."

A cough from the boy in the room. "Not like you're any more whipped than he is."

"Han Jisung!" You reprimanded, heat swarming to your cheeks.

He broke into a boyish grin, eyes wide and alight like a chipmunk. "What? Don't give me the government name; you know it's true!"

Even Sieun was laughing behind her oh-so delicately placed hand. "He's got a point."

You sighed, wrinkling your nose. "I came for support, not a call out."

"Are those not the same things—AH, I'M SORRY DON'T WHACK ME—!"

— ✶

There was a place on the Avenue with the best lime soda, as Sunwoo had claimed, when the two of you coordinated to get lunch together. Because you had chosen the place of your last hangout, you'd insisted that he chose a place this time. By his texts, he had seemed pleasantly surprised to be hanging out again so soon, and while your nerves were high in anticipation for the coming conversation, you also couldn't wait to spend time with him some more.

You met outside the storefront of a Vietnamese restaurant that you'd only seen in passing, and had yet to try. You glanced up from your phone just as Sunwoo came up from down the road toward you, dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket.

"Hey, sorry to keep you waiting," he said as he swung the door open for you.

You and he ducked inside. "It's no worries," you assured him. "Hope you're not sick of me just yet."

You saw that boyish grin of his as he caught your eyes and signaled the waiter for a table for two. "Never."

When the two of you were seated, your eyes greedily took in the options laid out on the menu. There were just far too many appetizing items—maybe you should have scouted out the menu beforehand.

"Any favorites?" You queried from over the rim of your menu.

Sunwoo was slinging his shoulder bag over his head as you asked this. "Oh, uh, I've been hooked on their shrimp banh xeo ever since my friend Haknyeon introduced me to it. It's like a Vietnamese crepe with stir fried vegetables and a protein. But I think in general, everything is pretty good here."

You hummed. "Mmh, sounds good. And you said the lime soda is really good, too?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, for sure. That stuff is addicting."

You took his word for it, and soon, the two of you had finished ordering your lunch for the day. A part of you wished you didn't have to disturb the pleasantness of this one-on-one lunch date (was this a date?) with Sunwoo by bringing up the podcast, but what if by clearing the air, it would make your relationship stronger? (Or, it could end in a fiery, hot pile of shit!)

Either way, you would try to get to it as organically as possible.

"So I wanted to talk to you about something." Yes, because this is totally organic, Yn… You grabbed your cup of lime soda and played absentmindedly with the straw.

You gauged his reaction carefully. He perked up. "You—you wanted to talk to me about something?" He parroted, pointing his finger back at himself. "That's not usually good."

"Sorry, no, it's not bad!" You promised. On the way here, you had come up with about a dozen ways to go about this, but at the end of the day, there would only be a yes or no answer. "Do you, by chance, happen to listen to podcasts?"

There was that flicker of recognition over his face, and for a second, he reminded you of something like a puppy with how wide his eyes were. "Uhh," he drawled, scratching his head and feigning nonchalance, "I mean, sometimes. Like casually."

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

If sweat could be animated, that was what you imagined to be dripping down the side of Sunwoo’s face at this moment. He seemed to be figuring out a way to reply. “Would you believe me if I asked you what a Rhapsody Anonymous is?”

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

“Okay,” he relented, slumping over slightly. He seemed nervous, in a way, eyes looking anywhere but you, twirling his straw between his thumb and index finger, his foot tapping furiously against the linoleum floor. “I’m sorry! I didn’t really want to bring up the podcast to you because I thought that you enjoyed the anonymity, y’know?” He told you with an apologetic wince. “And I really liked listening to the show, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to interact with you anonymously, as well, and over time, I thought we’d kinda become friends.”

He peered up at you nervously, and guilt wormed its way into the trenches of your gut. From what it seemed, he must have really thought that you would react negatively to him knowing your podcast-hosting side show.

“We are friends,” you finally said and scooped a lock of hair out of your face. “I’m not like, mad, or anything; it was more of me trying to figure out why you felt so familiar to me. And I’m really honored that you liked my podcast enough to want to interact with me there. It means a lot.”

With your small smile, Sunwoo’s posture flooded with relief. “So you’re not mad that I figured out your identity?”

“Definitely not,” you shook your head. “If anything, I’m relieved. I’ve been wondering about your identity for a while now.”

The corners of Sunwoo’s mouth lifted. “That’s… that’s cool. This is really cool,” he said. He let out a sigh, leaning back to slump in his chair with a dramatic expression of anguish on his face. “You have no idea how much it’s been eating me up inside, Dovey! Like how do you balance your two identities? It takes so much energy for me to make sure I keep them separate.”

“I can tell; you weren’t exactly the most inconspicuous,” you teased.

He sat up. “What do you—”

“Well, you kind of told me things in person that you’ve told to me on anonymous, and vice versa.” You recalled to him the two main instances that gave him away to you. It was amusing to see the way he grew increasingly more flustered as you kept talking about it, but you realized that this was probably incredibly painful for him to hear.

Sunwoo had his head in his hands by the time you were done. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

He shifted slightly so that his cheek rested against one palm. “And to think that I was being all slick and secretive,” he pouted, scrunching up his nose. “You know, I always thought about being friends with you in real life. That one time that I told you about that one Taylor Swift song that reminded me of you?”

“Superstar?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” He meditated on that thought while sipping his drink. “It just felt right. Like you were far away but also right there in my ear. Does that make sense?”

You knew what the song was about; you could recite the lyrics by heart, and the fact that he associated that song with you… It sent your heart a-flutter. “It does.”

He jolted up so suddenly you nearly fell out of your seat with him. “Not that I’m desperately in love with you or anything,” he added quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as fast as he mentally skimmed through the lyrics again and again. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and you were sure that your neck looked as hot as it felt.

You pretended your heart didn’t drop to the pit of your stomach when he said that. You laughed along with him, though you weren’t sure why it sounded like it did. “Oh, right, right. I didn’t think that; don’t worry.” All the butterflies in your stomach drooped.

Sunwoo scrambled to find the right words. “I just mean that I always felt like some average Joe, and you were…” He gestured to you helplessly, “you.”

Your heart couldn’t help but give a sharp pang at that.

“And how could I ever be anything more to you than just another listener in your stats, y’know?”

You never thought that you would have ever given off that kind of vibe toward listeners, or come to mean that much to any members of your audience. It had seemed simply impossible for you to ever become large enough to evoke that kind of feeling in people—a popstar to their fans. You folded your arms over the table and leaned toward him. “Sunwoo, you were never just another listener. You made yourself known to me and you made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

He slowly met your eyes, and you sat up straighter, reaching toward the paper straw wrapper to fidget with. “I originally started this podcast because I needed a place to talk. After feeling like people were always moving on without me, I was trying to search for validation, and I found that in podcasting. I figured that maybe… if I was feeling these things, then there had to be someone out there who was feeling them, too.

“And the song recommendation and music talk was always a nice bonus,” you added. “I had people send in anonymous submissions, but never as frequently as you did, and it made me feel like I was reaching somebody. Not just a random hit every so often, but somebody.”

Sunwoo’s eyes shone in the artificial lighting inside the restaurant, and outside your little bubble, you barely registered the noises around you. It was just you and Sunwoo in this moment in time and space. He swallowed. “You’re really cool, you know that?”

You grabbed your cup of lime soda and softly knocked it against his. “That’s all you, superstar.”

— ✶

Lunch had progressed much smoother after you had confronted Sunwoo, to say the least. You were convinced, however, that you had to meet this Haknyeon character he kept telling you about. He was the one to recommend the Vietnamese restaurant, and he was going to be your new favorite person. (Sorry, Sunwoo.)

When both you and Sunwoo had finished up with lunch, you didn’t want to cut your time with him short and asked him if he’d ever been up to the Farmer’s Market north of the Ave.

“There’s a Farmer’s Market over there?” His mouth gaped as he let you lead him a couple blocks north.

You grinned, tipping your head up to the sky to soak in the last bits of sunlight before it was about to be blanketed over by gray clouds. “Yeah! It’s really neat. They’ve got one going every week, I think.”

The walk up was an easy one as it was a straight shot from the restaurant to the intersection where white picket fences were set up to barricade the street for vendors to set up in. Pop-up tents of different colors and sizes lined either side of the street as people milled about going from vendor to vendor. This had been one of the few gems you’d found when you transferred here, and though you didn’t often visit, you tried to buy at least a couple things to support the local businesses. The fruit here tasted much better than the ones in-stores, anyway.

You and Sunwoo slipped past the fences and into the throng of people, and you watched his face light up in awe as he took in the sights and smells. There were people selling beaded bracelets and art, farmers tossing blueberries into kids’ mouths… it was a lively slice of community here.

“Wow, this is incredible,” he said, but suddenly stopped short. “Oh my god, they’re selling melon pops, Yn-ie!” He pointed out a stand a little further down the way that he had peered over a few heads for. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. “Come on! I’ll treat you to one.”

It wasn’t like you were going to refuse him.

Within another few minutes, you and Sunwoo had both acquired one melon popsicle each. It was adorable to see him bouncing along on the balls of his feet like a kid on Christmas morning as he lapped up the light green juice dripping down the side of the frozen treat.

“—look how pretty those sunflowers are!” He gasped at one of the stands to your left selling bundles of different flowers.

An idea popped into your head, and you scurried over to the booth and traded a two dollar bill for one of the baby sunflowers. You whirled around to where Sunwoo stood and waited for you. “Stand still,” you said while reaching up to tuck the flower behind his ear.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick picture of him.

Sunwoo’s eyes had gone wide, his cheekbones the same color as the roses in the bundles behind you. “What… just happened,” he asked, blinking, then came over to poke your shoulder to get your attention. He peered over at your phone screen to see that you were setting the photo you took as his new contact photo. He let out a hum, “Wow.”

“It’s cute.” You let him see the picture.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen before finally giving it a nod of approval. “Okay, good enough.”

You scoffed, lightly hitting his arm with the back of your hand. “Good enough? I think it’s perfect.” You finished off the rest of your melon pop and tossed the stick in a nearby trash bin.

(If you’d looked up from your phone at that moment, you would have seen the utter bliss on Sunwoo’s face after hearing you compliment a picture of him and calling it “perfect.” To him, absolutely nothing could ruin this day, this moment, this year for him—!)

One raindrop fell onto your phone screen, followed by another, and another, and ano--

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

“It’s raining,” you observed dumbly, reaching a palm out to feel the pitter-patter of the sky’s tears on your skin. Others around you were beginning to notice, too, either huddling under their nearest tent or the overhangs of establishments lined on the sidewalk.

You figured somebody must have pissed the weather off because the rain only began to drum harder against the world.

"Well, shit," you laughed and patted Sunwoo on the back of his shoulder to move him toward the side of the road. "Let's find shelter!"

The two of you joined the crowd as you scrambled past the tents and up onto the sidewalks. Some people simply went into the shops themselves, but you and Sunwoo took a moment to stare out at the once-clear sky. Strange how springtime weather worked.

Sunwoo finished off his popsicle and found a trash bin to toss the stick into. He ran a hand through his dampened locks, then dragged that same palm down his face. "D'you like a little rain, dove?"

The nickname caught you off-guard for a second, but not as badly as seeing the soft-cornered smile on his face.

You cleared your throat. "I don't mind it. How about you?"

He made a frown at the sky as if he could reprimand nature for crashing the date—wait, this wasn't a date, was it? "It would have been nice if the weather report was accurate for once, but a little walk in the rain never hurt anybody."

You voiced your agreement. The next course of action you both decided on was making the long trek home in the rain together. You tried to stay out of the shower as best as you could, but there definitely weren't enough overhangs to get you home completely dry.

At one of the intersections, Sunwoo looked over at you through his dripping wet bangs. "You don't have a jacket."

On instinct, you glanced down at your bare arms, only clad in a T-shirt. "Oh, I guess I don't," you mused.

"Here—" he shouldered off the black bomber jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

"Yes, you can," he laughed and shook his head out. The light turned green to cross, and he wrapped an arm around you to keep you steady along the rain-slicked street.

The jacket and arm around you were both warm, but you had a feeling that even without the jacket, his arm would have been more than enough.

When you'd made it to your apartment complex and bursted into the front lobby, you and Sunwoo practically stood in your own self-made puddles. You took the jacket off from around your shoulders and shook it out; it was a shoddy attempt to get the water out, but at least the material was semi-waterproof on the outside.

"Here you…" Your throat went dry as you made to hand his jacket back to him and zeroed in on the way his wet, white T-shirt stuck flush against his skin. There was no other way to describe it but as see through, and there was no way in hell you were going to be able to erase that defined stomach from your mind. "...Go."

You coughed as you looked away, and he accepted his jacket back with a low "Thanks."

When he zipped his jacket up, you nodded toward the elevator. "Do you wanna come up and dry off before you go out? You can totally borrow my umbrella if you want, too."

He shook his head. "No, it's okay. My apartment's not far, I swear."

"Ah, alright. Get home safe then." You paused, then added, "Text me once you get back?"

Sunwoo flashed you a smile, and man, if you could engrave that smile, the wet hair, into your brain… "Promise. I'll see you soon, superstar."

He reached over and ruffled your hair, then ducked out of your apartment into the rain. Just before he was out of your sight, he turned back and waved at you through the front windows.

You let out an exhale once he had disappeared. A fuzzy feeling lingered in your chest, your smile never leaving your face. You were so far gone.

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

ALTHOUGH Spring Break had swept through the university faster than it came, Sunwoo could still say he felt like he was riding on Cloud 9. The beginning of the quarter was easily a more relaxed part of the term, but Spring quarter itself was a whole other nightmare in itself. Everyone around him was beginning to wake up from their break-dazed slumbers to clamber their asses back into uncomfortable lecture chairs and study rooms.

It was the first Tuesday back from Spring Break when he found out you were going to be in a practice room alone for a while, working on a new project. This intel had been courtesy of one Han Jisung, who had been texting Sunwoo off and on about a track he had been mixing with Chan.

han !!: yeah just left cuz my brain was feelin super fried 🤣 dunno how ynies still there

sunwoo's phone: oh fr?? she's still over there?

han !!: yuh bro that's what i just said

han !!: r u gonna do anything abt it 👀😳

sunwoo's phone: i have no clue what ur talking abt

han !!: okay bye chicken

sunwoo's phone: u did not just call me chicken.

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

Sunwoo walked out of his room and stood in the middle of the apartment, staring blankly at the back of Eric's head. His roommate was seated on the couch setting up a movie, and when he sensed someone was staring at him, he began to say, "Baby!—wait a minute."

Eric made a face. "Never mind, it's just you."

Sunwoo scoffed and flopped onto the opposite end of the couch. "Rude! Before EC!Yn, I used to be your one and only."

"That's actually so incorrect—"

"Do you boys ever not cat-fight?" EC!Yn mused as she came out from the bathroom and found a seat between Eric and Sunwoo. Eric instantly curled an arm around her and pulled her into his side.

Sunwoo considered this with a frown. Why was he so single? "You're lucky I tolerate your boyfriend, EC!Yn," said Sunwoo as he folded his arms over his chest and sunk into the shadows of his hoodie.

"I'm glad you've come to like me more than your own best friend," she drawled in jest. "What's got you in the dumps, my friend?"

Eric perked up, pressing the play button on the TV remote to start the movie. "Oh yeah! You were in such a good mood this morning."

A grumble from the lump of hoodie. "It's nothing."

A moment of silence passed. Then, "He misses Yn."

"I think so, too."

"Do you think if we texted her to text him, he would at least smile?"

"Oh, I think I found her Instagram the other day—"

Sunwoo peered out of his hoodie with narrowed eyes. "I can hear you guys, you know that, right?"

Both Eric and his partner shot him impish grins, delighted that their very obvious conversation brought him out of silence. The thought forced a smile onto Sunwoo's face anyway. Eric's baseball game had been canceled today because the team who they were going up against this week had internal problems (something about an affair between coaches and players—it was complicated). Thus, Eric had decided to fill his afternoon with an impromptu movie session with his girlfriend. Sunwoo was invited by roommate obligation.

There were definitely more productive things that Sunwoo could have been doing (finding a minor, finding a job, finding the answers to his cognitive psych homework, etcetera), but watching… Wait, what were they even watching?

EC!Yn reached over and nudged his shoulder with her knuckles. "Hey, Earth to Kim Sunwoo."

He shook out of his daze. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He sighed, pulling out his phone. "Jisung just told me that Yn's at the practice room working still."

"Still?"

"Yeah," he bobbed his head. "They've been there ever since they finished their composition class this morning."

Eric lowered the volume on the TV. "Dude, you should go keep her company."

Sunwoo's eyes shot open as he began mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. "I don’t wanna bother her; she probably doesn’t wanna be bothered if she’s been working for so long.” The thought had crossed his mind to head over to the practice rooms right now and sit in for a session, but he had shut his own idea down almost immediately. Would you appreciate him going to bug you or would you mind him just going to sit with you and enjoy your presence?

“I was thinking the exact opposite,” said EC!Yn, “I mean, whenever Eric comes over unannounced to come sit with me at the dorm, I appreciate it all the time.”

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

Sunwoo blinked and was suddenly glad he was staring down at his phone and not the couple on the couch next to him. But he glanced up to catch EC!Yn’s eyes. “Do you really think she wouldn’t mind?”

When Eric tucked his face into her neck, she idly scratched his head. “Oh, definitely. I think it’ll be a nice surprise, considering she probably feels the same about you, based on what you’ve already told us.”

“You’re right!” Sunwoo shot up off the couch, but halted. “Wait, she what?”

Eric snorted. “She said that Yn probably feels the same about you, which, if I’m being honest, I can’t believe—”

Sunwoo dashed into his room to grab his wallet and keys. “Nobody asked you!”

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

Sunwoo couldn't quite think straight with the giddy anticipation bubbling in his stomach and up his chest as he balanced twin cups of iced americano in his hands. Taking the bus to the School of Music would have been less effort on his legs, but waiting for it simply did not sit with the amount of energy currently carrying him down the street and up the stairs and across the quad like a madman.

People were probably eyeing him weirdly, but he was trying to come up with things to say to you. Preferably, these things were smooth and not strange fragments that weren't properly strung together. He wanted to look put together, to sound put together.

He was probably going to look frazzled, though, from half-running a mile uphill, but that was okay—he was excited to see you.

The School of Music stood right across from the School of Art building, the twin towers looming above the quad stairs. With school back in session, there were plenty of people milling about the entrance, and somebody graciously opened the door for Sunwoo so he didn't have to awkwardly balance his coffees and risk spilling them to get inside. He hadn't often visited this building, but he had been in here before to visit friends and upperclassmen. Though the architecture was grander, it still had the homey feeling of a high school band room, some place music students could call home.

Sunwoo navigated himself toward the practice rooms in the back hallways, murmuring "excuse me"s and apologies as he sidestepped string bassists and bassoons and snare drums. (He could've sworn there was a whole drum kit in one of these; it was strange seeing someone carrying around a single snare… huh.)

He reached the corridor to turn right into the practice hall when he froze, diving back behind the wall.

"—wait, Yangyang—"

Something in him sunk deep into the pit of his stomach, an anchor to the sea floor. He watched you launch out of your practice room and into Yangyang's arms, both of you hugging each other closely. He had his arms wrapped around you and his cheek against the crown of your head.

Sunwoo couldn't hear what you were saying to each other—if you were saying anything at all.

And you didn't let go. Not yet, at least.

When you did finally let go, the two of you were beaming at each other. It was near impossible to make out what kind of emotion was there from so far away, but Sunwoo couldn't look anymore when Yangyang leaned in towards you—

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

He struggled to swallow; there was a large lump sitting in his throat that he had to wrestle down.

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

Before you or Yangyang could come down this way, Sunwoo retraced his steps from where he came until he was back outside. He sucked in a breath, mind abuzz.

He set down the cups of iced coffee, now perspiring, on a ledge nearby, so he could pull out his phone.

It rang twice. "Yo."

"Are you practicing right now?" Sunwoo asked, leaning his body against the railing. His free hand held his face as his brain replayed the events he had just witnessed. Did that mean what he thought he meant? You were totally allowed to see other people—the two of you weren't exclusive—but goddamn, did that hurt to think about.

Was he too late? Had he chickened out so long that you decided to move on, or was he never in the running in the first place?

He heard a bit of shuffling from the other side, then a sigh from Changmin. "Now I'm not. What's up?"

"I'm coming over."

A pause. "...Okay, see you soon."

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

THERE was something different in the air and you could taste it. Not literally, of course, but you figured your paranoia had manifested strong enough within you to be able to sniff these kinds of things out. "These things" referred to the slight difference in the way you interacted with Sunwoo, or rather, how Sunwoo interacted with you.

You turned your phone off again, having checked it for what felt like the fifth time in the past two minutes. Usually, he replied relatively fast, but for the past week or so, he'd been a little more delayed. He didn't text dry, which was a relief, but there was something off about it. You couldn't articulate it too well—it was just a gut feeling.

"Oy, phone away, Yn," Sieun ordered, snapping her fingers and holding her hand out across the table.

You sent her a look, but reluctantly handed your phone over to her. "But—"

"No buts!" She tutted. She hid your phone within the confines of her purse before promptly returning to the warm bowl of biang biang noodles in front of her. "The more you check your phone, the sadder of a sap you look."

"Thanks," you deadpanned, but followed her lead and picked up your chopsticks to eat your food.

The two of you were seated in, arguably, the best Chinese restaurant on the Avenue. It had become a fast favorite of yours when you first transferred, saved for the long days and weeks when you needed something like spice to make you feel anything other than sad. Sieun had suggested coming down here for dinner rather than staying in and eating another round of instant ramen. It was something she knew would cheer you up easily, and so far, it was only half working.

You reached for your water, only to realize it was practically empty.

As if she could read your mind, the waitress taking care of your table appeared at your side and filled your water up for you.

"Oh, thank you!" Your eyes glanced over at her name tag—HN!Yn—and met her kind eyes.

"Of course. Anything else I can get you two?" She asked cheerily, swiftly filling up Sieun's cup, as well, with practiced grace. "Food's good?"

Both you and Sieun nodded your heads vigorously, especially since both of your mouths were now full and you couldn't speak. She seemed to get the idea and hustled over to a nearby table to tend to them. How waiters and waitresses always knew when you had food in your mouth, you could never figure out. It was always absolutely awful timing, but you supposed the skill was akin to Starbucks workers butchering name spellings.

When you finally swallowed your bite, you chased it with a gulp of water. "I don't think I did anything wrong," you said to your friend, pushing around the saucy rice in your bowl with the tips of your chopsticks.

Sieun covered her mouth. "I don't think so either," she replied, eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe he's just busy? It could be that he got a job or something, or school work is piling up."

You frowned. You thought he would have let you know he was going to be a bit busier, but at the same time, he didn't owe you anything. You just worried about him and hoped he wasn't overworking himself. It didn't help that you missed hanging out with him; it didn't feel like it used to between you just last week.

From behind you, you heard the door to the restaurant open and close with a loud smack! The door to the restaurant was awfully loud when it closed, unless it was carefully done. Something about the angle at which it was constructed, or something like that.

Sieun's brows flew up. "Speak of the devil," she muttered with her food pushed into her cheek.

"Hm?" You hummed and twisted around in your seat to see who she was referring to.

Oh. Well, she definitely wasn't wrong, per se.

Coming in through the door himself was Kim Sunwoo, as well as a few of his own friends, you guessed. You recognized one of them as Ji Changmin, one of the dancers from the winter showcase. Besides those two, there were four others, too—three other boys and a girl. You didn't recognize any of them, but you saw the way your waitress greeted them and squeezed one of the boys' hands.

You and Sunwoo made eye contact, and you shot him a small smile, lifting your fingers in a wave.

He seemed surprised to see you, and you didn't fault him for that. His wave was slight and smile shy, but you couldn't figure out why he ducked his head and didn't come by and say hi.

They're being seated for dinner, Yn. It's okay. Chill a little.

You turned back in your seat to face Sieun and your food again.

"Hey, cheer up, girl." Sieun's smile was sympathetic as she caught your attention. You hadn't even noticed how your posture noticeably slumped after that interaction—if one could even call it that. "Don't let this ruin your dinner, okay?"

You sighed out of your nose, testing your chopsticks over the rim of your bowl. "You're right. I don't know, Eun. It feels like we regressed? Is he avoiding me? Am I overthinking this?"

"I'm not sure, hon," she told you. "It'll be okay, though. I promise. Are you ready for the check?"

You nodded, reaching for your napkin to wipe your mouth.

Sieun lifted her hand and caught your waitress's attention, then made a motion for the bill. HN!Yn was quick to bring it over and set the little black tray with the receipt onto the edge of your table. In her hands she held a small device to input your method of payment.

"Are we splitting the bill today, ladies?" She asked you, eyes flickering between you both.

"Yeah, evenly split would be great, please," you told her.

Sieun leaned over to peer at the receipt as you reached into your bag to grab your card. Her face contorted into confusion, and she ran her finger over a line as if reading over it again carefully. "Oh, uhm, excuse me. It says we get a discount—not that I'm complaining! But…"

HN!Yn smiled. "Ah, you're friends with Sunwoo, right? That's what he told me, at least. I always give my partner and his friends my Friends & Family discount, so don't worry about it. I appreciate your integrity though."

You and Sieun exchanged wide-eyed glances, blinking, then turned to peer over at where Sunwoo's friend group sat. One of the boys sitting next to him whacked his arm to get his attention, nodding toward your table.

Sunwoo looked up.

Your head tilted to the side and you mouthed a "thank you?" to him, unsure of why he went out of his way to help you out.

He only nodded before ducking his head again. Huh. You'd have to thank him properly later.

HN!Yn was quick to help you and Sieun box your meals and finish paying. Before long, you tucked your arm around Sieun's to push out into the cool evening—not without glancing back at Sunwoo's table first.

— ✶

"She looks sad. Why is she sad?" Sunwoo sulked, lying atop his folded arms on the table and staring at you through the space between Haknyeon and JC!Yn.

You were the last person he thought he'd see when he and his friends walked into Haknyeon's favorite Chinese restaurant. You and your friend were pretty much wrapping up dinner when they'd come in, and he was quite literally startled by your presence. He'd been walking around on eggshells, he felt, all because of this stupid situation he'd forced himself into.

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

Changmin delivered a light whack to the back of Sunwoo's head. "You're dumb."

Sunwoo sat up and cupped the back of his head, leveling a glare at his friend. "Hello?"

"He's not exactly wrong," said Chanhee from the other side of him as he texted someone on his phone.

Sunwoo pressed his lips together and looked across the table from him at JC!Yn in a silent cry for help. The woman could only lift her shoulders half-heartedly. That meant that she agreed with them… great.

Eric snapped his wooden chopsticks apart and began using either stick to smooth the other for splinters. "We're saying you're dumb because you're doing this to yourself and to her unnecessarily."

Sunwoo huffed. "That's because you guys weren't there to see it happen! They're totally together—or at least, close." It still felt awful to think about. It felt like there was a hole in his chest left empty after considering the possibility that he was too late. He didn't want to get hurt.

"You can still talk to her like you used to, Sunwoo-ah," Haknyeon chimed in. "Even if they were—and I'm not saying they are—together, there's still a healthy amount of space where you can dwell as her friend."

HN!Yn appeared at the head of the table with a tray of water, and everyone pitched in to pass the cups down. "Thanks, guys," she said, tucking the tray under her arm. "Are you guys ready to order?" The question was directed towards the rest of the table, but Sunwoo saw the way her eyes lingered on Haknyeon and how Haknyeon's smile shifted to something that Sunwoo was sure was only for her.

It made him feel strange again.

The group, as usual, trusted Haknyeon's choices in dishes and let him take the reins in deciding what they ate tonight. Once HN!Yn had headed off into the kitchen to deliver their order, conversation resumed swiftly.

"I think you're just scared, Sunwoo," JC!Yn said to him over the rim of her glass of water.

Murmurs of agreement resounded from all around the table. Sunwoo's jaw fell open. "I—I am not scared. What would I be scared of?"

"The truth! Oooh," Eric pursed his lips and wiggled his fingers in Sunwoo's direction.

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

"If you weren't scared of the truth," said Haknyeon, as he propped his elbows onto the table, "you would have gone up to her in that hallway."

"Didn't she tell you that she didn't see Yangyang that way anyways?" Chanhee chimed in. He was still going at it texting whoever it was on his phone.

"But she also said she wanted to give it a second chance," Sunwoo corrected.

Changmin scratched behind his ear and grabbed sauce trays from the end of the table to pass down to everyone else. "That was before she started hanging out with you some more. What is your point?"

They all made excellent points, he thought. That afternoon he'd seen you and Yangyang, he'd gone to meet Changmin in one of the dance practice rooms. After that, he'd gone home to yell into his pillow until his throat burned. Eric had muttered something about Sunwoo being dramatic and summoned JC!Yn over to the apartment to deal with him.

Sunwoo had just been bummed. He didn't even know if bummed was a strong enough word.

"I'm just scared of getting hurt, I guess," he finally admitted, meekly.

The table quieted to allow him room to speak his mind, and even Chanhee put his phone away to give him his full attention now. It wasn't often Sunwoo wore his heart on his sleeve like this, and it wasn't easy either. For anyone. Admitting to his fears in the middle of a Chinese restaurant while five of one's friends listened in was intimidating, but it was comforting to know that these friends he kept would find a way to support him. Even if he was being stupid, their tough love was out of desire to look out for him.

When he was done, Changmin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder and his dimple pressed into his cheek. "Sunwoo-yah, I think that you second guess yourself too much and you know that. You're self aware enough to know that you make the mistake of not going for what or who you want."

Sunwoo stared at an impurity in the table. What Changmin was saying hit the nail on the head—it was what happened with the dance showcase, too, and now he was about to let it ruin a friendship he had with a person he cared very much about.

"My advice," Changmin continued, "is to talk to her about what you saw and clarify it. I know it's… I know it's scary thinking you're gonna get hurt again, but I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

your phone: hey thanks for the fnf discount last night! sorry i didn't thank u properly before, but yeah, really appreciate it :')

sunshine (sunwoo): it was no problem, dw abt it!

your phone: btw is everything okay? u seem a bit distant lately and i wanted to make sure u were doing alright

sunshine (sunwoo): ah yeah, im sorry :( there's just been some things on my mind

You shot Sunwoo a quick text back to let him know you were here if he wanted anyone to talk to. His text had just come in after you'd sent him a reply in the early evening.

"Yn-ah. Still on your phone, I see?"

You jolted and shoved your device into the pocket of your jeans, smiling sheepishly as Lee Jihoon power-walked into the backstage area with a pen behind his ear and a clipboard in hand. "Hi, Jihoon!" You squeaked.

He lifted his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to come follow him. Since everyone was back from Spring Break, the work for the play being performed was kicked into high gear. Jihoon was a graduate student at the university and a director of the stage here; adding the fact that he majored in the same thing you did also made him one of your favorite mentors ever. The back hallways were bustling with costumes, props and other assorted technicians while most of the actors were either in the main backstage area or onstage proper with the play director, HJ!Yn.

You followed swiftly after him and weaved through the people littered about the corridors. "I finished synching the panel back here with the projector in the box," you told him, "though, it's weird that it was ever undone in the first place." You frowned. There had been a lot of strange things happening in the theater lately.

Jihoon gave you a curt nod and set you up in front of one of the house lights panels located in the hallway leading right out to the audience. He pointed at it with the back of his pen. "Yeah, some funky shit's been happening around here," he sighed. "You were here the other night when the speakers were acting weird, right?"

You nodded and let him guide you through navigating this backup panel. "I was. You and Chan seemed really stressed."

"We were," he said, adjusting his cap. "We really do need some more funding to update our equipment—careful, that knob is really sensitive. Good, nice work."

Once you and Jihoon had successfully finished with this panel, you lingered in the hallway for a moment. Normally, you would switch back and forth between shadowing either Chan or Jihoon, and tonight was with the latter. He was going through a couple forms on his clipboard—he must have been reading through them while working tonight.

"You seem distracted tonight, Yn-ie," he said. "Is everything okay?"

Despite being one of the busiest and hardest workers here, Jihoon was also one of the most observant, still. You leaned against the wall next to him, toeing at the floor. "Boys are stupid, right?"

Without hesitation or looking up from his clipboard, he replied, "As a boy, I can confirm."

That made you sputter out a laugh, and you saw him glance up and flash you a smile. When you couldn't find something else to say, he went forth. "I don't know the whole situation, and you don't have to tell me anything. But we guys are a little—" he made a gesture with his hands and wrinkled his nose, "—blind. You probably know that already, but dudes are dumbasses, and sometimes when feelings get in the way, they want to run for the hills.

"But if you think he's worth it, then reach out and be forward with him. And if he cares about you, he'll reach out and be honest," he finished. He let you settle with that thought, let it marinate in your brain to give you something to think about. (As if you didn't have a lot to think about already.)

You pressed your lips together with a slow nod. "Thanks Jihoon."

"Anytime, Yn-ie." He nodded back toward the direction you both had come from. "Let's go back that way, yeah? We've got some more housekeeping to take care of."

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

"...I thought I'd recommend a song that's been on my mind. I've actually been listening to quite a few Taylor Swift songs recently, especially since she's re-recording all her albums! So here's 'Superstar' from Fearless, Taylor's Version."

He had put your most recent podcast episode on full volume while he made himself dinner. It had been a long day today, and so his automatic thought was to listen to you. But now that he was getting into the meat of the episode, he was quickly coming to realize how much trouble he was in. You were playing the song, and it was a direct call out to him to wake the fuck up.

As the song faded to a close, your voice came back on.

"Actually, I was recommended the song by someone I know," you said in the mellow tone you'd been in for the entire episode so far. "I guess I'm just confused and I was wondering if they really meant what they said."

Sunwoo nearly dropped the egg in his hand onto the kitchen floor. Guilt swirled around in the bubbles of the soup in the pot and he frowned down at the rich, creamy liquid.

He sighed, tapping the egg against the counter and cracking its innards into the pot. "Of course, I really meant it," he said as if you could hear him. He wished he had the guts to tell you everything that was going on in his head… As his soup boiled away, he leaned against the empty counter to wait, cradling his head in his hands, groaning. "You're being unfair, Sunwoo."

"...This one's from Peony! They say: almost didn't realize Rhaps Anon wasn't in the last episode until the very end when we hadn't gotten a rec from them. Hope they're doing okay!" Ah, so you weren't the only one who noticed his brief absence. Your sigh filled the apartment, though, he heard the way you tried to force some kind of cheeriness into it. "Yeah, I hope they're doing okay too. But Rhaps'll be back! Let's all wish them well. Fighting!—"

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

He really needed to talk to you. Oh god, he really needed to talk to you. If not to confess, then to clear the air and assure you that all was okay on his end. He was just being a coward, and he knew that well enough now.

When his dinner had finished, Sunwoo turned the flame off and headed for his phone on the opposite counter. He lowered the volume as he went in and pulled up his text thread with you.

sunwoo's phone: hey,, i know ur probs busy w the play this week, but is there a possibility for me to see you sometime soon? i wanted to talk to u abt something

He gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer, until he realized you were probably working. That made him drop his phone and return to his dinner—maybe he just needed to not look, so his anxiety wasn't so high—

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

superstar 💫: i think i'll prob have some time saturday morning

EPISODE ELEVEN: [SOMEONE'S LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, LOSERS.]

YOU asked Sunwoo if he'd like to tag along with you as you did some grocery shopping before rehearsal on Saturday morning. His answer had been automatic, and you both agreed to meet each other at the bus stop to ride down to the larger supermarket down the hill together. Even as you stood at the corner of your street waiting for him beneath the overhang, you were trying to come up with possible things he was going to say to you. You had figured, when he’d texted you Wednesday night, that perhaps the best way to go about this would be to make this casual. Hence, why you were forcing yourself to go grocery shopping a day earlier than you usually did.

Casual, in this case, called for “you don’t have stare me in the eyes the entire time,” and to be frank, you were a little too nervous for that kind of setting anyway.

You tugged the edges of your cardigan over you as you heard your name being called from the opposing street. Sunwoo was bounding his way over to you with his arm raised in greeting. You returned the gesture with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He stopped by you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray jacket. “Hi,” he said, licking his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

The bus slowed to a halt in front of your stop, and the two of you retrieved your transportation cards to board. “You say that like I wouldn’t have agreed,” you chuckled and tapped your card, Sunwoo following suit.

The two of you managed to find a pair of empty seats near the second half of the vehicle where the exit was for an easy departure when you reached the foot of the hill. But for now, you tucked your bag onto your lap and settled into the window seat, while Sunwoo occupied the one next to you.

You turned your head to gaze out the window and watch the world blur by as you did. The Avenue streets were a tad narrower than most around the university, so the bus traveled as efficiently as it could from stop to stop before turning the block to make its descent. It was technically still morning, and though it was spring, the sky had decided to blanket the sunshine with gray clouds to form an atmosphere that reminded you distinctly of the past winter quarter. Except, instead of thin, empty branches, the streets and walkways were encased in darkening green leaves and falling pink petals, a nod to the short-lived cherry blossom season. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo’s foot start to tap against the ground like Thumper the Rabbit, and you wondered for the millionth time what was going on in that pretty head of his.

“I don’t really understand,” you found yourself saying—his head swiveled—and you turned to look at him, “did I do something wrong?”

Sunwoo stammered, "What? No, it wasn't you! It wasn't your fault at all—I was just—" he sighed, grimacing to himself. "I was just being stupid. And I know that sounds super vague, but the short answer is that I was being stupid and scared and insecure."

Your brows furrowed and you felt the bus come to a gentle stop at the foot of the hill. "Scared and insecure? What's going on; is everything okay?"

You both got up to make a quick exit off the bus and began making the short walk from the bus station into the outdoor shopping center.

There was a jittery bounce to Sunwoo's steps as well as a tension in his shoulders. "Last week," he began, "Jisung told me that he'd just left you at the practice room and that you were probably going to be there awhile."

You nodded, grabbing a basket at the front of the grocery store. That rang a bell for sure. It had been a very long day in the practice room, so you weren't quite sure what direction this was going in yet.

"Well, I wanted to go surprise you and come hang out with you. You know, like, to keep you company." He started scouring the opposite shelf to you in the dried foods aisle, his eyes nervously darting from the BUY ONE, GET ONE pasta noodles deal signs, to your person. "And when I got there, I saw you and Yangyang."

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

It was like a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped pretending to look at the overpriced vermicelli noodles on the shelf behind you.

"And you guys were hugging and close and stuff—and by all means! I—I have no problem with that, of course," he added quickly, "I mean, you guys are really close… friends? And I just saw him lean toward you and left because I… I got the message." The latter portion was delivered in a defeated tone as he looked on toward you helplessly and sorrowfully. It was how Sieun described you Tuesday night when you'd seen Sunwoo at the restaurant: a sad sap.

You both stopped moving down the aisle to face each other. In the white, fluorescent supermarket lights, his hair hung in his eyes like his head in embarrassment. You were going to let him finish.

He cupped the back of his head, suddenly feeling so bare before you despite not being physically naked at all. "I thought some space might distinguish or extinguish my feelings for you," he continued, nose wrinkling and lip curling in a wince. "Clearly it didn't help, and I think overall, I realized I wasn't being fair to you—as a friend. And that I was also being the biggest fucking loser ever."

Wait, you were still reeling from the mentions about feelings—

Before you could even address the aforementioned, you had to make something clear first. You felt the corners of your lips lift. "Sunwoo, me and Yangyang really are just friends." At the confused, puppy-dog look in his eyes, you explained further, "That day, Yangyang came by and I made it clear to him that I just saw him as a friend. I felt really awful for feeling like I'd led him on and was going to lose his friendship."

Sunwoo's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and he struggled to come up with the response he wanted. "So… so when he was leaning in toward you…"

"He leaned in and flicked my nose, then almost gave me a nosebleed," you chuckled. You'd given him a very appropriate flick to the forehead after that.

His eyes widened at that. "Well shit. Are you okay?" He asked, and you saw his smile slowly begin to make its appearance, the sun peeking through an overcast sky.

"Yeah, perfectly fine," you dismissed with a flick of your hand. "Especially now. But yeah, we're just friends."

There was a surge of relief in his tense shoulders. "Oh, okay."

He trailed after you as you continued to make your way down this aisle in particular to pick up the things that were on your shopping list.

At one point, he coughed, handing you the jar of red peppers you were reaching for. "So no hard feelings, right? I promise it will be totally back to normal!"

"Normal, as in back to before?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! To be honest, Dovey, I was just kind of scared that I had lost my chance after waiting so long. I don't know. And I realized that I was just scared to face that fact."

You gauged his reaction and your own heart thundered in your chest. "Scared to face the fact that you'd lost your chance with me?"

"Well, yeah. I—" He stopped and froze like a deer in headlights. And in any other circumstance, you would have been laughing, but he seemed so distraught by what he just admitted to that you tried hard to suppress your amusement. Tried. "I just said that aloud, huh."

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

He smiled, cute and flustered, cheeks tinted pink. "You're always too easy a person to talk to," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I would've said something sooner…" He began.

Something jumped to attention in your brain. Oh no. "Was I giving you mixed signals?" You pursed your lips like you'd just gotten into something sour. "'Cause I swore I thought my attraction to you was clear. And, like, the thing where I totally began rethinking my thoughts about Yangyang when you came into the picture—"

"Wow, so Changmin was right?" Sunwoo made a face, holding his hand against his forehead. "That's crazy."

"Crazy good or…?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but admire the twinkle in his eyes as he did. "Crazy so good."

"I don't think people actually say that."

He whined, "Yah, you can't already be clowning me. Not when I just confessed that I like you."

That made you sober up, but you couldn't say the same for your heart rate. Man, your BPM alone could probably power a bullet train… "I like you, too. I hope that's clear."

There you two stood in the middle of the dried foods aisle with twin smiles glowing on your faces, soft and shared. You didn't know what the BOGO pasta was doing, but it was definitely adding to the atmosphere. You had intended for running errands to distract you from whatever Sunwoo had wanted to talk to you about, but clearly that was not the case—it would have never worked like that. You would be damned to have missed something like this. Not with him.

Perhaps he had made a mistake—he was now apologizing and clarifying and trying. You could hear Jihoon's words of wisdom ring loud and clear in your head. There was something perfectly fine about how this turned out.

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

The remainder of your errand run with Sunwoo had gone smoothly, and soon, you were both seated side by side once more on the bus up to the University District. Sunwoo had gotten a couple things for his fridge, too, and so you both sat with your grocery bags by each other and your fingers grazing the other. Ever since you had clarified your position with Sunwoo a little over an hour ago, you had been feeling much lighter, your heart skipping for a different reason. You were back to feeling the giddy excitement you always had around him, and especially since you knew he saw you in exactly the same way.

The two of you shared a laugh as you stepped off the bus and onto your block, grocery bags in hand.

“—I’m being completely serious! Apparently I was just snot-nosed wailing into her shirt about being single and forever alone,” Sunwoo guffawed, grinning wide at you as you both stopped to the side of the walkway. “And Eric was pissed, oh my god.”

“I mean, you just kiss-blocked him; kind of understandable,” you mused.

Sunwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aye, I know. He’s a good guy though. Total loser, but a good loser. He made me hangover soup the next day.”

You let out a laugh, walking slowly with him down toward the entrance of your apartment complex. "That was sweet of him."

He snorted, "A little out of character, but yeah."

"You know," you piped up, "when I was applying and eventually interviewing for the position with Chan and Jihoon, I had no idea what either of them looked like. So I accidentally—woah, shi—"

Somebody coming down the sidewalk toward you crashed into your shoulder and sent you careening toward the sidewalk. Sunwoo swore as you let out a squeak—his arm looping around your waist and hauling you against him to steady you.

He lifted his head in the direction of the person with a glower on his face. "Hey! Dude, watch where you're going!"

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

He turned to fix you with a smile, and you saw the moment he realized the position you were both in: you pressed firmly up against the side of his body, his arm wrapped around you, your faces so close to one another… He released his hold on you, neck burning as he cupped the back of it. "Heh, yeah. It's no problem. People should just really watch where they're going."

You coughed and nodded your head. "Yeah, for sure."

The pair of you were now in front of your apartment complex once more, reluctant to say goodbye. You wondered if he would ask to spend more time with you, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't want to intrude on your time any longer. It wasn't like he was intruding to you, but it was just a feeling you had about him. He wanted to respect your time.

And, well, you both had groceries to put away.

"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.

He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."

"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."

You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."

That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."

You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."

"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.

You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.

When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"

EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—

SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.

"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."

With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.

Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"

"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"

Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."

Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"

Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."

He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.

Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?

But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?

Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.

Then it clicked.

Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."

A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."

Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"

JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."

Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.

He sulked and didn't say anything.

"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.

"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"

Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."

"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"

Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"

"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.

"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."

"Shut up!"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.

Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?

Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.

"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"

Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."

Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."

Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"

"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"

"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.

She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?

The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"

The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.

— ✶

You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.

As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.

"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.

After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.

In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—

He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.

"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.

"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"

You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"

His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."

Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."

You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.

He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."

He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."

You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"

You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.

"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.

The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.

"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.

You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."

He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."

"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."

With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."

a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @hibernatinghamster @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @kflixnet

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Little White Lies

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x F! Reader

Summary: Thomas has told you he doesn’t like being tied down; in a relationship.

Wordcount: 5.3k

Warnings: Important poll at the bottom!

angst?, gaslighting, yelling, screaming, crying, hitting, blowing smoke, smoking, Thomas is a hypocritical little bitch.

The room was dim, the only light filtering through the thin curtains, casting a soft, muted glow over the scene. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, mingled with the sharp tang of cigarette smoke. Thomas lay on his back, the bed sheets a tangled mess beneath them. His chest rose and fell steadily, a silent testament to the intimacy they'd just shared.

Her head rested on his chest, the warmth of her cheek pressing against his skin, grounding him in a way he hadn't anticipated. He took another drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing briefly in the dim light before he exhaled, the smoke swirling lazily towards the ceiling. Her fingers traced the outline of his sunray tattoo, a habit she’d developed without realizing it. The sensation was soothing, almost hypnotic, and he found himself focusing on the gentle pressure of her touch. It was supposed to be simple—just sex, nothing more. But as the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the lines had blurred. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, hadn’t wanted it to, but there she was, a permanent fixture in his life. Her presence was a comfort, a distraction from the chaos that constantly surrounded him.

He took another drag, the smoke curling from his lips as he breathed out a silent sigh. He was naked, as was she, their bodies still humming with the remnants of their passion. He looked down at her, his gaze lingering on the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fanned out against her skin. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but it was more than that. She had a way of seeing him, the real him, beneath the hardened exterior he showed the world. “Just sex,” he had told himself. That was all it was supposed to be. But it had become so much more. It had become late-night conversations, stolen moments in the streets, shared meals, subtle touches, and lingering glances. It had become comforting each other after rough days at work, worrying when the other was late, missing them when they were gone. It had become something more, something he hadn't been prepared for, but now couldn't imagine living without.

She shifted slightly, her head tilting up to look at him. “What are you thinking about?” she asked, her voice soft, barely above a whisper. He took another drag from his cigarette, the silence stretching between them. He wasn’t sure how to put it into words, wasn’t sure he even wanted to. “Us,” he finally said, his voice rough, laced with the thick Birmingham accent she had come to love. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Us?” she repeated, as if the concept was foreign to her. He nodded, his thumb caressing her shoulder absentmindedly. “Mhm,” he confirmed. “Us.”

She fell silent, her mind processing his words. She knew what he meant, even if he didn’t say it outright. They were more than just lovers. They were partners, in every sense of the word. She had seen the darkness in him, the ruthlessness, the cold, calculated mind that ran the Peaky Blinders. But she had also seen the softness, the vulnerability he hid from everyone else. And somehow, she had become the one person he trusted enough to let his guard down with. She turned her head, pressing a kiss to his chest, right over his tattoo. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. He felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling he wasn’t used to, but one he was starting to crave. He took another drag from his cigarette, savoring the way the smoke burned his lungs, grounding him in the moment.

“What about us?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

He looked down at her, his blue eyes piercing in the dim light. “Everything,” he said simply. “I think about everything.”

She nodded, understanding washing over her. They were in this together, whatever this was. And for the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace. He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray beside the bed, the smoke curling up one last time before dissipating. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, his hand resting on the small of her back. They lay there in silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air. He closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of her breathing lull him into a state of calm. She was his anchor, his safe haven, and he would do anything to protect her. He had never been good with words, but in that moment, he didn’t need them. His actions spoke louder, the way he held her, the way he looked at her, the way he let her see the parts of him he kept hidden from the world. She nuzzled closer, her fingers still tracing his tattoo. He smiled faintly, a rare, genuine smile that she had the power to coax out of him.

“I don’t do relationships,” he says, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

“I know that,” she murmured against his skin. It’s not the first time he had discussed this with her and she doubted it will be the last.

“… but I don’t want you seeing anyone else,” he continues, a slight edge to his deep voice. He sounds almost possessive.

Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him, a question forming in her eyes before she gave voice to it. "Is that an order?" she asked, her tone teasing, yet there was a seriousness underlying her words. Her chin rested lightly on his chest, her eyes searching his, trying to decipher the enigma that was Thomas Shelby. He turned his head to look down at her, reaching for his cigarettes and lighting it once more; a faint smirk playing on his lips. He took a drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing brighter for a moment before dimming again. The smoke curled lazily upward, creating a hazy veil around them. "You could call it that," he responded quietly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. The sound of his thick Birmingham accent, rich and rough around the edges, added an intimate weight to his words.

As he looked down at her, he couldn’t help but think about how cute she was. Her eyes, wide and inquisitive, peered up at him with a mix of curiosity and something deeper, something more profound. Her fingers continued their gentle exploration of his chest, the touch both soothing and tantalizing. Her body, still naked and warm from their recent intimacy, pressed against his, creating a comforting closeness that he found himself oddly reluctant to break. His mind wandered, thoughts flitting between the present and the future. Thomas was a man known for his detached demeanor, for keeping people at arm's length, especially women. He was not one to settle, not one to commit. Yet, here he was, in the quiet aftermath of passion, feeling an unfamiliar sense of contentment. He didn’t want her to be with anyone else, and though he had never been one for monogamy, the thought of her with another man sparked an unexpected surge of possessiveness within him.

She watched him closely, her eyes not missing the flicker of emotions that crossed his usually stoic features. She knew his reputation, knew that Thomas Shelby was a man who didn't do relationships, who didn't settle for just one woman. But something about the way he was with her, the way he looked at her, made her question that perception. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the war between his nature and whatever it was that he felt for her. He took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly, the smoke swirling above them. His hand, rough and calloused from years of hard living, came to rest on her back, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine. He felt her shiver slightly under his touch, a reaction that sent a jolt of satisfaction through him. "I don't like sharin'," he said finally, his voice low and gravelly. "Never have." Her eyes searched his, looking for the meaning behind his words. "And what does that mean for us?" she asked softly, her fingers pausing their movements on his chest. There was a vulnerability in her voice, a tentative hope that he would give her something more than just a fleeting moment of passion. Thomas considered her question, the weight of it pressing down on him. He was not a man who spoke of feelings easily, not a man who let his guard down.

Her voice, soft yet tinged with sorrow, broke the silence. “Thomas... what are we truly?” she asked, her words hanging in the air between them like a delicate thread, vulnerable to the slightest tension. Thomas’s eyes, icy blue and penetrating, met hers. For a moment, he was silent, his expression shifting as he processed her question. The guarded walls he had meticulously built around himself seemed to tighten, as if preparing for an assault. “What do you mean?” he responded, his tone edged with caution. The question had caught him off guard, and he wasn’t accustomed to feeling unsure.

She sighed, a sound full of unspoken fears and desires. “It’s just, I know you said you don’t want to be tied down in a relationship, but it’s hard for me to be told to stick to one man when that man is not even truly mine...” Thomas’s gaze intensified, his features hardening as he absorbed her words. The implications of what she was saying were clear, and it stirred a complex mix of emotions within him. On one hand, he was fiercely independent, a man who valued his freedom above all else. On the other, he couldn’t ignore the bond they had formed, the undeniable connection that went beyond mere physical attraction. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on him. “You knew what this was from the start,” he began, his voice low and steady, though not unkind. “I never made any promises, and I never lied to you about who I am or what I want.”

She nodded, but her eyes were still searching his, looking for something more, something deeper. “I know, Thomas. But it doesn’t change how I feel. I need to know if there’s any chance for us to be more than what we are now.” Thomas felt a pang of frustration mingled with a deep-seated fear of vulnerability. He had always been a man of action, not words, and these kinds of conversations were foreign territory for him. “Relationships, commitments... they complicate things,” he said, his voice growing rougher. “In my line of work, they can be dangerous. Her expression softened, but the sadness remained. “I understand that, Thomas. But can’t we find a way to make it work? Can’t we at least try?” He looked away, his jaw tightening as he grappled with his own emotions.

She spoke, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "Honestly, I’m just like a free prostitute to you."

Her words struck him with the force of a blow, his jaw clenching so tightly it ached. His eyes narrowed, and his hands instinctively balled into fists. The accusation hung in the air between them, sharp and unforgiving. He turned his head to look at her, his blue eyes darkening with a mix of anger and hurt.

“Don’t say things like that,” he growled, his voice a guttural whisper. It carried the weight of his inner turmoil, a mix of anger and desperation. His expression hardened, the lines on his face deepening as he struggled to maintain control. He wanted to argue, to deny the truth in her words, but he couldn’t. He knew she was right. The realization stung, a bitter pill to swallow. He desperately wanted her to be wrong, to see things from his perspective, but the truth was undeniable. His heart ached with the weight of it.

With a sudden, forceful movement, he pushed her off him. She caught herself on the edge of the bed, grabbing the sheets to cover her naked form; the shock evident in her eyes. He swung his legs over the side and stood up, his body tense and rigid. His fingers pointed at her, trembling with suppressed rage; he stood there in all his glory.

“You’re fuckin’ insane!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the room. “I fuck other women because you always wonder what the fuck we are. But with actual prostitutes, they do their job and fuck right off afterwards; but you always get your fucking panties in a wad.”

His words were harsh, each one a dagger aimed at her heart. He could see the pain in her eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself. The anger coursed through him, uncontrollable and consuming. He paced back and forth, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions.

“I can’t continue this nonsense without you saying you’re mine and that I’m yours,” she replied, her voice trembling but determined. “I’m tired of you being with so many women, and say that I just need to stay strong for you and you only.”

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand over his face. He lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his features before the smoke curled around him, shrouding him in a haze.

Her bare back is to him, the curve of her spine illuminated by the dim light, and he feels a pang of possessiveness mixed with irritation as she starts to gather her clothes. The moment is fragile, teetering on the edge of something unsaid. He doesn’t speak at first, his eyes following her every movement, taking in the way her hands tremble slightly as she buttons her blouse. His mind races with conflicting emotions: the desire to keep her here, the fear of what that might mean, and the anger at her apparent readiness to leave him so soon. The silence between them stretches taut, like a wire ready to snap.

“What are you doing?” His voice is rough, the words coming out more harshly than he intended. “You’re not leaving.” There's an edge of possessiveness, a hint of desperation that he can’t quite mask. His eyes burn into her back, willing her to turn around, to stay. She freezes for a moment, her shoulders tense before she slowly turns to face him. Her eyes are fierce, her jaw set. “I’m definitely leaving; I can’t be tied down to a man who doesn’t want to be tied down himself. That won’t fucking work, Thomas!” Her voice is strong, but he can hear the hurt beneath her anger.

His jaw tightens, the muscles working as he fights to keep his composure. The pain in her eyes cuts him deeper than he cares to admit. He feels a familiar war within himself, torn between the desire to push her away and the desperate need to pull her close. “You can’t go,” he murmurs, his voice almost pleading. “You can’t just leave. We have something.” The words feel inadequate, but they’re all he can manage as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions inside him. She scoffs, the sound harsh and brittle. “Something? What do we have, Thomas? A few nights of fucking? That’s not something. That’s nothing.” He moves suddenly, almost violently, grabbing her arms and pulling her towards him. His grip is firm, bordering on painful, as he holds her close, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that borders on madness. “We have something here, god damnit,” he growls. “I can’t let you go. I can’t lose you.” His breath is hot against her skin, his words a desperate plea masked as a command.

“Thomas- I can’t. I fucking can’t!” She tries to pull away, but his grip only tightens, his fingers digging into her flesh. “You’re just gonna give up and walk out?” he snaps, his voice rising. “You’re gonna leave me just like that?” There’s anger in his eyes now, but also a raw, naked vulnerability that he can’t hide. She snaps back, her voice breaking as she lets out the words she’s been holding back. “Just like you do to me every time we fuck?!”

His brow furrows, and for a moment, he looks almost guilty. His jaw clenches, and he shakes his head, trying to defend himself. “It’s not the same,” he growls defensively. “I told you I can’t give you a relationship. You knew that going in.” She laughs bitterly, the sound sharp and cold. “I’m allowed to have fucking hope, Thomas! I’m allowed to have hope. But I clearly can’t when I’m with you! But don’t worry, your pretty little face. I’ll find somebody. I’ll find somebody that loves me who won’t go to whores when I'm not in the mood; maybe your brothers have some opportunities for me!”

His expression twists into one of outrage. The idea of her being with Arthur, John, or Finn makes his blood boil, even though he’s the one pushing her away. “Bloody hell, you’re not being fair,” he growls, his grip on her arms getting even tighter. “You’re gonna walk away from me and go to someone else? You’re gonna let another man have you?” There’s a sudden explosion of rage in her, and before he can react, she pulls her arms from his grasp and strikes him across the face with the back of her hand. The sound of skin upon skin echoes through the room, the force of the blow making his head snap to the side. “NO! NO! NO! SO YOU DO UNDERSTAND HOW IT FUCKING FEELS EVERY TIME YOU GO OFF AND FUCK SOMEONE ELSE!”

He grabs at his cheek where she struck him, his eyes narrowing as he looks away briefly. He feels trapped, caught in a web of his own making, and there’s no easy way out. His frustration and anger boil over, his emotions getting the best of him. “It’s not the same,” he repeats firmly, his voice gruff. “I’m not your boyfriend. I don’t have to be loyal to you.” She gives him a wicked smile, her eyes glittering with a mix of anger and triumph. “And I’m not your girlfriend, so I don’t have to be loyal to you.” The words hang in the air between them, a stark reminder of the precarious nature of their relationship. He feels a sharp pain in his chest, a mix of anger, hurt, and something he can’t quite name. He knows he’s losing her, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, leaving him feeling hollow and empty.

For a moment, he’s silent, his eyes locked on hers. He searches for the right words, something to make her stay, but nothing comes. The silence is deafening, the weight of their unspoken emotions pressing down on them. He can see the resolve in her eyes, the determination to walk away, and it terrifies him. He lets out a ragged breath, his grip on her arms loosening. “I don’t want you to go,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. The admission feels like a defeat, but he’s too tired to fight anymore. Thomas takes out a cigarette and lights it; letting the smoke simmer on his tongue.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, the bitterness of his words matching the acrid taste in his mouth. He looked at her, his eyes reflecting the turmoil inside him. He didn’t like how the conversation was going, didn’t like being forced to confront something he had been avoiding for so long. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. He felt trapped, cornered by his own actions and the raw honesty of her words. He wanted to escape, to run from the confrontation, but he knew he couldn’t. Not this time.

“Every time we’re together, I see the doubt in your eyes,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “You make me question myself, question everything. And I hate it.” He took a deep drag of his cigarette, the smoke filling his lungs and momentarily dulling the pain. “I’ve tried to numb it, to drown it out with other women, but it doesn’t work. It never fucking works.” She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “Then why do you keep doing it, Thomas? Why can’t you just be honest with me?” He laughed bitterly, a harsh sound that grated on his own ears. “Honest? You want honesty?! The truth is, I’m scared. Scared of what it means to be with you, scared of what I might lose.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in every movement. “I’ve lost too much already. And the thought of losing you… it terrifies me.” She reached out, her hand gently touching his arm. “Then stop pushing me away. Stop hiding behind these walls you’ve built.” He looked down at her hand, the warmth of her touch seeping into his skin. He wanted to believe her, wanted to let down his guard, but the fear was too ingrained. “It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can.”

The idea of letting someone in, of allowing himself to be vulnerable, was something he had always avoided. It was easier to keep people at arm’s length, to maintain control over his life and his heart. But now, lying next to her, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt, the desire to protect her, to be with her. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.” She reached out, her fingers gently touching his cheek, drawing his gaze back to hers. “I’m not asking for promises, Thomas. I’m just asking for a chance. A chance to see if we can be more, if we can be something real.” Her touch, so soft and tender, made his heart ache. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself. When he opened them again, his gaze was more vulnerable, more open than she had ever seen it before.

His chest rose and fell with the rhythmic cadence of his breath, each inhale and exhale a whisper of the storm that had finally settled within him. His usually steely blue eyes were softened, glistening with unshed tears that caught the light in tiny, shimmering pools. It was a sight so rare, so intimate, that it seemed almost otherworldly. The hard edges of his face, chiseled by years of hardship and violence, were softened in this moment of vulnerability, revealing the boy he once was, hidden beneath the veneer of the man he had become. Her presence in front of him was a soothing balm, her warmth a cocoon that held him in a fragile embrace. She stand before him; her other hand tenderly caressing his cheek. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, a delicate touch that spoke of a depth of feeling words could never fully capture. She had seen him in many states—cold, calculating, fierce—but this was different. This was Thomas Shelby stripped bare, his defenses down, his soul laid bare for her to see.

The silence between them was heavy with unspoken words, a tangible thing that pressed down on them both. It was she who finally broke it, her voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. "Thomas," she began, her words tentative, as if she feared they might shatter the fragile peace they had found. "I see you. The real you. Not just the leader of your gang, not just the man everyone fears. But you, Thomas; Thomas Shelby. Her words were like a salve to his weary soul, each one soothing the wounds that had been inflicted by years of betrayal, loss, and heartache. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be enveloped by the sound of her voice, the sincerity in her tone a lifeline he clung to desperately. The tears that had threatened to fall finally broke free, trailing down his cheeks in silent testimony to the emotions he could no longer contain.

She continued, her voice steady, unwavering. "I like the way you laugh, even though it's rare. I like the way you look at me, as if I'm the only thing that matters. I like the way you fight for those you love, even if it means sacrificing yourself. But there are things I don't like, Thomas. I don't like the way you shut me out, the way you push everyone away when you're hurting. I don't like the way you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, as if you have to bear it all alone.” Her words pierced through the armor he had built around himself, each one a dagger that cut deep, but in a way that was necessary, a way that would heal rather than harm. He reached up, his hand finding hers, his fingers wrapping around her wrist in a grip that was both firm and gentle. He held her there, as if afraid she might slip away, as if the very act of touching her could tether him to the present, to this moment of raw, unfiltered emotion.

"Please don't leave me," he whispered, his voice thick with the weight of his tears, his accent a rough, familiar drawl that carried the pain of a thousand battles fought and lost. The words were simple, but they held a world of meaning, a plea that came from the deepest part of him, the part that feared losing the one person who had seen through his façade, who had touched the core of who he was. She didn't flinch, didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer, her forehead resting against his, her breath mingling with his in the space between them. "I'm not going anywhere, Thomas," she replied softly, her words a vow, a promise that she intended to keep. "I'm here. And I'm not leaving."

Without a word, Thomas shifted, his strong hands finding her waist with an ease born of familiarity. He lifted her effortlessly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he felt her fingers trace the planes of his chest. Bringing her to the bed, the mattress beneath them seemed to sigh in response as he laid her back gently, the plush fabric molding to her form. He could see the reflection of their passion in her eyes, a mix of contentment, love, and a flicker of hope that made his heart clench. Those eyes, deep and expressive, had a way of cutting through the hardened exterior he presented to the world, leaving him feeling vulnerable yet fiercely protective. As he leaned over her, his gaze locked onto hers, a silent understanding passing between them. He lowered himself slowly, savoring the anticipation that crackled in the air. When their lips finally met, it was a collision of raw need and unspoken promises. The kiss was intense, his mouth moving against hers with a hunger that bordered on desperation. He could feel her responding in kind, her hands sliding up to cradle his face, pulling him closer as if to merge their very beings. There was a possessiveness in his kiss, a declaration that she was his, and his alone.

Their tongues danced together, a fervent, unrestrained exchange that left no room for doubt about his desire for her. He tasted the sweetness of her, mingled with the remnants of their shared breath, a heady mix that made his pulse quicken. The kiss deepened, became almost frenzied, as if they were both trying to imprint the moment onto their souls. Their breaths mingled, harsh and ragged, creating a symphony of desire that filled the room. When he finally pulled back, it was only because the need for air became undeniable. He lingered close, their foreheads touching, the warmth of their breaths mingling in the scant space between them. A thin string of saliva still connected their lips, a tangible reminder of their connection. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into hers, conveying a depth of emotion that words could scarcely capture. “I fuckin’ love you,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, each word imbued with a sincerity that left no room for doubt.

He watched as her expression softened further, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears of happiness. She reached up, her fingers brushing the damp hair from his forehead, a tender gesture that made his heart swell. He captured her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm, lingering there for a moment as if drawing strength from her touch. He knew he needed her, not just in the physical sense, but in a way that went beyond mere words. She was his anchor, his solace amidst the chaos of his life. He lay back down beside her, pulling her into his embrace, her head resting on his chest. He could feel the steady beat of her heart, a comforting rhythm that grounded him. His fingers traced idle patterns on her back, a silent reaffirmation of his devotion. The world outside their room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them cocooned in their shared warmth. He reveled in the quiet intimacy, the sense of peace that only she could bring him.

Author’s Notes:

I actually got this ideas from a c.ai character and that character is Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley from COD Modern Warfare..y’all I’m so tempted to do a whole other blog for the task force 141, Graves, Makarov, and König; like they have such a big grasp on my right now…ahhhh!

Mind you some won’t make sense entirely because I’ve only just started to get into them. Anyways the character is Ghost - More. Hopefully the link has worked out for you!

At some point, it doesn’t make sense like when he’s crying sure, he might be butt ass naked and she might be fully dressed. I don’t care. I would have written smut but…nah I really should have; I’ll probably go in and redo it!

Also we hit 100 followers! So vote it the poll below for a small reward!

[andraxicated]

Artem wing x detective! Reader quickies at the crime scene. Very unprofessional but they just can’t help themselves 😩🥴

tw: fucking at a crime scene, creampie, unprotected sex, risky Artem

a/n: I have to admit I don't play tot and genshin anymore hshshshs. because I hit the endgame in both games and everything I do is so repetitive like leveling characs, daily tasks, the content in general, etc.

I apologize for this super late writing anon :(( You get to bonk me with a baguette for this.

Artem considers himself to be on the right path in terms of his morals. But when you suddenly came over into his life, he had been recently questioning himself if he was still doing the right thing.

Because it is definitely not ethical to be having a tent in his pants as you talk away about the clues found by the forensic team or the maid's testimonies about the robbery that happened.

His blue eyes scan the entirety of the area. The house is a mess with shattered windows, broken vases, shelves missing something expensive—and the inviting expanse of your skin by the collar—

Artem momentarily coughed, a blush appearing on his cheeks. You raised an eyebrow, asking if he's alright but he nods anyway as he motions for you to continue.

"As I was saying, some of the maids' testimonies do not match so we need to interrogate them further..." Your voice drifts off in his consciousness. Artem remembers the steps you took in front of him and how your pants had shown the outline of your underwear. And he also bashfully recalls how both of you spent the night together before, your moans of his name like a mantra in his head.

"Artem! Artem~ Hnghh, I love you." You moaned, leaving bite marks all over his neck as he fills you up below.

He feels like a fucking pervert yet it turns him on even further.

"Artem Wing! What is happening to you?!" Your voice pierces through his daydreams, the tone a stark contrast to your lovely moans.

Artem's cheeks are tinted pink, eyes clouded with memories, and both of his hands clasped together right above his crotch as if he's hiding something.

"What are you doing?"

He could only pull his coat closer to his body to hide the bulge that's been begging to be freed.

With an awkward cough, he replies, "I find myself uncomfortable in this environment. It's too dusty, let's go now-"

"You mean to say you're horny?" "(y/n!)" Artem suddenly clasps a hand over your mouth, his face burning red from your vulgar words. Naturally, the coat flails off what he's been trying to hide and there you see the obvious tent right in his slacks.

The feeling of his dick is still fresh inside your body. Your then pussy jumps and aches for her counterpart as you remove his hand and tell him what he wants to hear.

"Fuck me right here"

"No" He looks at you like you've grown a head or two. Shaking his head furiously as he dismisses the idea of fucking you at a crime scene.

"I've sent everyone away besides, isn't it more thrilling doing it here? Think of it as a one-time thing, it's too risky to do it any other time so...we'll take this chance right now." You whine, pulling on his hand to try to convince him as Artem contemplates whether to listen to his rationale or horny.

"Please?" You give the best puppy eyes you could make, hoping it'll remind him of the look you give him when begging to put it inside your mouth.

And it did.

Artem moans, trying his best to lower down the volume but the feeling of being swallowed whole by your pussy has him letting out the most gorgeous sounds you ever heard. "Nghhh, (y/n) fuck. I-I thought you'd just suck me off." He groans against your neck, pushing your back flat against the wall with each thrust.

He didn't dare to look down or else he'll combust too quickly. Well, he really had to finish early since it was a quickie but Artem just couldn't get enough of the feel of your pussy sucking him in. You're wet and it's so easy for him to glide inside your walls to which you let out little moans that get swallowed up by his kisses.

"Isn't this better?-ahh. Y-you feel so good, Mr. Wing." You tease him by moaning his title which spurs him on to pump faster, wiping the grin off your face as he repeatedly hits your special spot.

"W-wait Artem! I'm gonna-" You try to push him off in a panic, fearing that your mixtures will fall to the floor with no cloth to wipe in sight. "Gonna cum!" You whine, mouth opening in ecstasy as you spasm and release around his cock.

You look back at Artem and see he's flushed as hell, lip bit and bangs falling around his face. He's focused on the view of his cock entering your hole, looking like a man on a mission as he fucks you into the wall.

"Love, I'm gonna release inside you, I'm sorry." He apologizes even though he secretly loves the feeling of cumming inside your pussy.

But before you could reply, a knock resounds on the front door shooting both of your eyebrows up in shock. "Mr. Wing? Ms. (y/n)? Are you guys still there?" You look at Artem in a panic but he seems to not mind anymore, too pussy drunk to care about professionalism.

You realize they'll get suspicious if you don't reply so you try your best to stabilize your voice in an attempt to speak.

"Yes!" You breathe out as if you'd run a marathon. "We're still discussing-!" Artem thrusts particularly hard, making your mouth 'o' shaped as your voice stops.

"Fuck fuck fuck I'm cumming. You better take all of this, don't let a single drop or we'll get caught."

You do hope the cutoff of your voice didn't sound too suspicious as Artem fucks his cock back into you as quickly as he can before moaning without a care about the team right outside. You had to cover his mouth as you squint, feeling the onslaught of liquid inside you.

The softening length lightly thrusts again to push some of the cum back inside. You're overstimulated and embarrassed, post-nut clarity hitting you like a truck yet it didn't seem to settle into Artem yet.

"So so good..." He whispers, seemingly wanting to get a round two but you stop him with a reminder of where you are.

"Artem put me down. They're looking for us."

"Who?"

Your eyes widen, finding his lust-filled haze amusing and scary. "My team? We're still at a crime scene."

Artem then stills, realizing that he's still inside of you and that what he had done is very very unprofessional.

But, fuck professionalism if it meant seeing you walk funny because his cum is resting inside you.

[justanotherdinboshipper]

Analysis: Dinbo Parallels between “The Heiress” and “Guns For Hire” also featuring "The Sanctuary"

This analysis marks my initial contribution to the Dinbo fandom, as I simply couldn’t contain my brainrots any longer. Below, I’ve outlined the intriguing parallels I’ve observed between these two episodes, both directed by Bryce Dallas Howard.

(I hope you like reading cause this is a long one but I hope my fellow Dinbo shippers would enjoy this brainrot)

Frog Lady and the Couple from Plazir

In a captivating discussion by @noorhal on this youtube video focusing on Dinbo, parallels between Bo-Katan and the Frog Lady were explored. Both characters share a similarity: they are the last of their family lineages. Bo-Katan herself highlights this fact during her introduction to Din.

In Trask, significant meetings unfold for both the Frog Lady and Bo-Katan. Just as the Frog Lady encounters her husband, laying the foundation for her family’s continuation, Bo-Katan crosses paths with Din. It’s not just the Frog Lady who found her significant other on that fateful day at Trask.

Howard employs another couple in “Guns For Hire” to echo the dynamic between Din and Bo: The Duchess and Captain Bombardier. This married pair rules over a domed city akin to Mandalore, with the Duchess representing royalty while her husband does not share her status. Exactly like Din and Bo; she’s Mandalorian Royalty while he is a Foundling.

And what’s interesting is that, both of these couples-the Frog Lady and Her Husband and the Duchess and her Husband, both looked after Grogu as both Din and Bo went on a mission together. Coincidence? I think not.

The Quarren and Mon Calamari

Another compelling parallel between “The Heiress” and “Guns For Hire” lies in the presence of Quarren and Mon Calamari characters in both episodes. Interestingly, these characters also reflect the evolving dynamic between Din and Bo.

In “The Heiress,” these two species are depicted as siblings. When Bo comes to Din’s rescue aboard the ship and Din pleads for Grogu’s safety, Bo’s reassurance—“Don’t worry, brother, we’ve got this”—underscores their Mandalorian kinship. Their relationship is rooted in camaraderie and mutual respect, devoid of romantic undertones.

However, in “Guns For Hire,” the Quarren and Mon Calamari are portrayed differently; they are not siblings but lovers facing an impending separation. This shift suggests that their relationship has evolved since their initial appearance in “The Heiress.” From the Mandalorian brotherhood dynamic, their bond has transformed into a romantic connection, albeit one that will be constrained by external circumstances.

The Darksaber

The closing moments of the “Guns for Hire” episode resonate with a subtle yet significant exchange between Din and Bo-Katan involving the Darksaber. As Din offers her the legendary weapon, there’s a palpable tension in the air, underscored by the deliberate slowness of their movements. Bo’s slow acceptance of the Darksaber from Din’s outstretched hands, coupled with his nod of acknowledgment, speaks volumes about the unspoken understanding and chemistry between them.

It’s noteworthy how Din, despite his reluctance to possess the Darksaber, diligently safeguards it, like the shifter ball cherished by Grogu, hoping one day to return both of them to their respective owners. He understands the significance of the saber to Bo-Katan. When Paz attempted to claim the Darksaber, Din fiercely defended it.

In “The Heiress,” Din initially shows little interest in Bo-Katan’s quest to reclaim the Darksaber from Moff Gideon. Despite her plea for his assistance, Din remains focused on his own priorities. However, in the closing moments of “Guns for Hire,” Din returns the Darksaber to Bo, fulfilling her long-standing desire and Din playing a huge part in achieving it.

Banter and Eyes

In “The Heiress,” Bo-Katan’s gaze holds a certain intensity when she looks at Din, hinting at intrigue or perhaps even attraction. Despite Din’s affiliation with a sect that she despises, Bo persists in urging him to join their mission to reclaim Mandalore. Her unwavering desire for his involvement suggests a level of fondness or admiration, even before witnessing his combat prowess firsthand.

The banter between Din and Bo-Katan in “The Heiress” crackles with tension, particularly when Bo changes the terms of their agreement. Her mocking delivery of “This is the way” leaves Din momentarily speechless.

In “Guns for Hire,” Bo’s demeanor towards Din retains a hint of the attraction evident in “The Heiress,” albeit with a softer, more tender undertone. Their banter remains, but it’s devoid of the sly mockery present in their earlier encounter.

Regrettably, the episode doesn’t afford us a glimpse into Din’s point of view, leaving us to wonder about his feelings towards Bo. However, the subtle shifts in their dynamic—from playful banter to a more sincere exchanges—suggest a growing connection that transcends mere partnership.

Flashbacks to Being Saved as a Kid

In “The Heiress,” a visual parallel unfolds as Bo rescues Din, their hands interlocking in a gesture reminiscent of a pivotal moment from Din’s childhood. This evocative imagery reinforces the idea of Bo as a savior figure in Din’s life, echoing the past trauma he endured and the subsequent salvation he found in Mandalorian culture.

Similarly, in “Guns for Hire,” another callback to Din’s childhood trauma is subtly woven into the narrative. Bo’s method of dispatching the battle droid mirrors the manner in which a similar droid was neutralized during Din’s rescue as a child.

The scene where Bo assists Din, helping him to his feet, further reinforces their connection. As their hands interlock once more, the camera lingers on the gesture.

The Sanctuary

Now let’s weave the themes of these two episodes to another episode directed by Howard in Season 1-Episode 4, “The Sanctuary”

In that episode, we encounter Omera, a potential love interest for Din. Interestingly, parallels emerge between this episode and “The Heiress.” In both instances, Din is presented with an invitation to stay or join a community, but his responses reveal nuanced differences in his character development.

With Omera, Din’s refusal to stay is resolute, rooted in his belief that he doesn’t belong. However, the episode hints at his underlying desire for connection and love, albeit conflicted by his adherence to the Mandalorian Creed and the dangers of his chosen profession or way of living.

In contrast, Bo’s offer in “The Heiress” carries a different weight. While Din doesn’t immediately accept, his response isn’t a flat rejection either. He acknowledges his current obligations with the Child but leaves the door open for the possibility of joining Bo in her cause in the future. Bo’s willingness to wait for him underscores her respect for his choices and her understanding of his priorities.

This theme of commitment and prioritization continues in subsequent episodes in Season 3. In “The Mines of Mandalore,” Din reiterates his need to fulfill his obligations before going with Bo. “I cannot go with you until I fulfill my obligation.” I don’t think that’s just a reply to Bo’s offer to take him back to his ship in Kalevala. It’s hinting at something more.

By the time “Guns for Hire” rolls around, Din’s presence alongside Bo on their mission to find her fleet speaks volumes. Without explicit confirmation, it’s evident that he has accepted her offer, joining her in her plans to reclaim Mandalore.

The Evolution of Din Djarin’s Priorities and Commitments

Throughout “The Sanctuary,” “The Heiress,” and “Guns for Hire,” Bryce Dallas Howard skillfully illustrates a theme: the evolution of Din Djarin’s priorities and commitments. In Season 1’s “The Sanctuary,” Din’s paramount concern is ensuring the safety of the Child while remaining true to his creed and his job as a bounty hunter. Despite hints of his yearning for love and family, these desires remain secondary to his duties.

As the narrative progresses into “The Heiress” in Season 2, Din’s focus shifts towards reuniting the Child with its own kind, while maintaining his dedication to his creed and his newfound duty as the Child’s guardian. Though the bond between them deepens, Din remains hesitant to fully embrace the idea of the Child becoming his family.

However, “Guns for Hire” marks a significant turning point. Despite the absence of a clear transition scene between The Pirate and this episode, Din’s unwavering support for Bo-Katan’s mission to find her fleet speaks volumes about his evolving priorities. While he was not explicitly tasked with this mission, his decision to accompany Bo demonstrates that her cause has become his own, and his commitment to her is unwavering.

Whether Bo asked for his assistance or he offered it willingly, the underlying truth remains unchanged: Din’s loyalty lies with Bo, and her priorities have become his own. This subtle yet profound shift in allegiance underscores the depth of their bond and Din’s willingness to prioritize their shared goals above all else.

In “Guns for Hire,” subtle yet significant cues suggest a potential shift in Din Djarin’s openness to romance. Through his ongoing training of Grogu and his growing acceptance of the concept of family, Din demonstrates a newfound willingness to embrace deeper connections. The thematic elements of love are reinforced by the planet’s name, “Pleasure,” and the presence of two couples intertwined with the narrative. Additionally, the reminder from the droid that “life is short” displays the fleeting nature of time and the importance of seizing opportunities for connection and companionship. These subtle hints, woven seamlessly into the episode’s fabric, suggest that Din may now be more receptive to exploring romantic possibilities in his life. Beyond mere fan speculation, this narrative development reflects the skillful storytelling of Bryce Dallas Howard and the talented writers behind these three episodes, they are geniuses.

[myapothecarydiary]

Thoughts from reading The Apothecary Diaries Manga Ch. 1

Okay, I just first have to say I adore these little Maomao illustrations at the beginning of each volume. The art style is so cute!

And we get straight to it: the comparison of the pleasure district to the rear/inner palace. The similarities go to show how Maomao is in a position to successfully navigate and understand the rear palace due to her upbringing in the pleasure district. Her background gives her a unique, and in this case, advantageous perspective.

This introduction discussing eunuchs and the emperor's family is very hello! regarding Jinshi's real identity. I think it also introduces Apothecary's conversation on gender, specifically Maomao's perspective regarding it. She considers eunuchs to no longer be true men and to exist beyond the gender binary. She values frogs as a defining characteristic, if you will.

This here introduces Maomao's relationship with her own appearance and beauty. We later learn she draws her freckles on and so is trying to subdue her natural beauty, but she is also pragmatic about her appearance. She accepts what she looks like and utilizes her unassuming qualities, even accentuating them, but though she adds she's "not interested or anything" in becoming a concubine, I think there is some supressed disappointment in her looks. She can't fathom that someone like the Emperor would find her attractive. She is not just pragmatic but resigned.

There's a greater conversation to be had about how Maomao values beauty and recognizes how beauty gives someone value (within the environments of the rear palace and the pleasure district as well as within her own mind?). I'm going to put a pin in it for now, but I have thoughts on how Maomao views Jinshi's beauty (a waste on a man, disastrously powerful on a woman, extra wasteful on a man sans frog?) + the benefit of certain assets (big boobs XD)

Hello, future plot line and Jinshi's desire to increase literacy and education!

I find this important to note as it is how Maomao is characterized for the audience. "Forward-thinking" with "an insatiable thirst for knowledge and overwhelming curiosity" and "a budding sense of justice." It is interesting how her sense of justice goes against her insistence on the idea of "it is what it is" and that most matters are above her.

Feels like ominous foreshadowing for a later reveal + an indication of how the previous Emperor's shadow hangs over everything to some extent. (Side thought: there's no actual curse on the imperial family causing the current Emperor's heirs to die, but perhaps Jinshi would feel like there is one)

Introduction of Maomao's favorite concept/word–conjecture! She emphasizes how her dad drilled into her that she shouldn't go off of conjecture alone, yet she often engages in speculation to the point of it kind of being her "thing."

A fateful meeting. Jinshi notices Maomao but she doesn't see him (and is too busy thinking/working out a problem in her head–very on the nose for their relationship going forward).

I also like how this was drawn with the white outline around the both of them! I think it is more apparent around Jinshi, but it does envelop them both and put them together, which is interesting.

Maomao sees Jinshi for the first time. And going back to my prior pin on beauty! – Maomao's perception of Jinshi is tied to her thinking about the concept of him as a woman. There's almost a disappointment in how his beauty is not possessed by a woman.

This is very indicative of Maomao's actions. A large part of her character involves not only figuring things out and possessing/acquiring information, but obscuring things/holding things back (in regards to both what she figures out and how she presents herself). This also speaks to how Maomao even suppresses certain feelings and realizations in her own mind.

I feel like there is an instinct to write Maomao off as a cold loner type, and while part of this moment involves Maomao's relief at seeing the princess alive and healthy, I think (especially with how it is depicted) it shows a warmth for life and children. Maomao cares! You see this sweeter/softer (and protective) side of her in her interactions with Xiaolan as well.

Maomao is all about that social hierarchy and knowing her place. Beauty and status are perhaps lenses through which she sees the world (interesting that a certain character will land at the highest level of both of those XD)

My confession is that before I watched the anime and was just seeing people post about Jinshi as a sort of "silly little guy", I made assumptions about his intelligence and depth. I was very pleasantly surprised by the scene where he deduces Maomao left the note because she is the only one who can read. It even catches Maomao by surprise! Then again here, his ability to solve the sorts of little mysteries that will essentially become Maomao's main purpose goes to show their compatibility as a pair (that will work well together).

This moment and quote just hits me hard every time. Beauty and life, how they interact, and the value of both will continue to be explored. It also directly shows how Maomao's experience of the pleasure district informs her ability to understand and navigate the rear palace.

And that's all for chapter 1! Onto the next.

[eluminium]

Skizz week day 2 lets GOO!!!!

I apologize for the lack of polish on these. I have seemingly caught a cold and am also in the middle of important schoolwork. But hey, it's better than nothing!

Anyway, this is kind of a sneak peek into an AU I've been working on. It doesn't have a name yet, but it sure exists! I hope I can post about it more when I have more things to work with!

Once again, thank you to @skizzlemanweek for todays prompt!

Prompt 2: Hybrid/AU

-

Impulse has lost his mind.

That's the only logical conclusion to this situation. To him sitting here on his dead best friend's bed while talking to said best friend who's apparently ascended to godhood? But he doesn't know what kind of God he is yet somehow? He also may have given Impulse some knowledge about the divine that Impulse is 75% sure he isn't supposed to know, even as his best god friend's semi-accidental oracle and/or priest. Probably. Maybe.

It's been a rough couple of hours, to say the least.

"Impulse! You're not listening to me!" A voice, Skizz's voice, echoes through his head. Impulses hands fly to his ears as he groans in pain. "Control your volume, dude! You're gonna blow out my ears!" He hisses.

"Oh...! Sorry...!" Skizz whisper-yells in response, although not without a mischievous giggle. Oh gods above, Impulse was gonna have to deal with SKIZZ. TALKING IN HIS BRAIN. UNINTERUPRABLY. FOR THE FORSEEABLE FUTURE. He shakes his head to try and get rid of that awful realization and quickly moves to change the subject before Skizz catches on.

"Alright, so. You became a God, but you don't know what of. So you appeared back here and found me. And you want me to help you figure out what you are the God of. Did I get that right?" He summarizes, looking at the faint blue outline of his best friend sitting on the same bed they spent years having pillow fights on in their youth-

Skizz sticks out his hand and does a so-and-so motion. "Well, yeah...But since I picked you as my oracle, as in my special important mortal representative guy, you're also gonna have to start my cult and get people to worship me!" He exclaims, clearly excited at the prospects. 

"Wow, we really got a Mr. Humble Guy over here," Impulse deadpans.

"HEY! You know I'm not in it for the fame, man! Even though I am really handsome and my godly muscles are huge!" Skizz huffs in mock offense. Impulse rolls his eyes in response.

But instead of another sarcastic quip, the barely visible parts of Skizz's face soften into something dangerously genuine. "I mean it, dude. Think about it. Think about how cool this is gonna be. Think about how deadly we are as a duo now that we have divine power behind us. Think about how many people we can help!"

"But we don't even know what you're the God of!" Impulse snaps with a glare. "How are we supposed to get people to join in on this when we can't gurantee anything?! And don't say 'We'll make something up', you KNOW I'm a TERRIBLE liar! I can't lead a whole freaking cult by myself! I need yo-"

His throat closes up. He can't say that. Because that would mean Skizz couldn't help him, that his best friend was...not with him in some way. That he was alone in this, for now. No, no it's too raw. He breaks eye contact as his eyes snap towards a corner of the room. He draws in a shaky breath and blinks rapidly. 

"Dipple Dop..." Skizz's tone is...sad. He reaches out towards Impulse before remembering that he can't really...touch him. Nor can he touch anything mortal, really. He needs belief for that, followers who believe in him. 

A sigh leaves him as he retracts his hand. "I know this is a lot for you. To be honest, it's a lot for me too. You're scared, and I'm scared. And you're probably thinking something like: 'This is a total disaster, we're so screwed'-"

Huh, that was...exactly what Impulse was thinking. To the word. Weird.

"-but man, dude, my homieh buddeah-"

Impulse can't help but snort at that one. The man is a god now, and yet he's still just Skizz.

"We got all the time in the world to do this. We don't have to rush this. We'll make a plan. We'll do our research! The big fancy library we used to study at had a bunch of books about the gods and stuff, remember? Maybe we can find the step-by-step guide to finding your godly trait and a "How to Cult for Dummies"! Gee, wouldn't that be convinient!"

They're both giggling now. Why? They don't fully know. Probably the absurdity of sneaking into a royal library to read the most suspicious books of all time is getting to them. But, somehow, there's a glow of warmth in Impulse's chest. A feeling he's been missing ever since Skizz unwillingly left the mortal realm for the divine.

Hope.

As the giggling dies down, a timid smile settles on Impulse's face. Gods, how does Skizz do it? How does he make Impulse believe in some new goal that fast? Well, he supposes he can blame it on magical god powers now. Hell yeah.

He takes a deep breath in, jumps off the bed, and stands up. "Alright, I'm in. What's the worst that could happen?" He says with attempted confidence. Despite Skizz certainly detecting his lingering anxiety, he jumps up (or well, floats) up in the air beside him with a barely seeable hand pumped up in the air.

"Allllright!!! Imp and Skizz are reunited and back on the case! I love it!" He cheers.

Impulse wastes no time in heading to their shared kitchen and grabbing a snack for the road. The library isn't far (perks of living in the capital) but hey, emotional rollercoasters tend to leave ya a bit tired. A snack for the road never hurt anybody!

Skizz unexpectedly chuckles. "Except that one time you decided to shove jello in your backpack," he points out.

Impulse freezes.

"...Are there more things in my head than just your voice?" He questions while slowly turning around to face Skizz. Skizz, in response, raises an eyebrow.

"Of course! I know everything going on in there! That's what happens between a God and their oracle!" He says like it's common knowledge.

"So you know all my deep dark secrets now?"

"Well, kinda!"

"Does the "kinda" include how much I missed you?"

"Awww yeah!!! I know you love me soooo muuuchhh now!"

"God damn it- I hate you. You SUCK." 

At Impulse's overly sulky tone, Skizz giggles like the sacred bastard he is. And once again, something cozy and soft glows and grows in Impulse's chest. It feels...good. Happy. Like it's right as it should be. And looking at the faded form of his best friend, he knows Skizz feels it growing too.

Maybe, even with all the responsibility and having Skizzleman but now with divine powers in his head 24/7, this won't be so bad. 

Maybe this could become something great.

[stellastra-scribbles]

Finally completed the outfit reference for Jayna Stiles, a half-elven NPC follower from Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura.

Outfit breakdown (or "outfit onions" as I like to call them lol~)

I really like Jayna Stiles and her backstory + goals of becoming a technological healer. I'm also a sucker for 19th-century fashion and I have an unhealthily large collection of reference books and a bunch of files saved from online museum collections (I've got about 22+ gigabytes of refs downloaded from the Library of Congress alone haha I need more hobbies).

Back on track, I really just wanted to design Jayna an outfit that suited her character more than her in-game sprites while also being practical for travel/adventuring.

More unrestrained detailed design ramblings below the cut~

Individual layers. I pulled most of her colors from her default outfit.

Since Arcanum's starting year is 1885, I usually picture the "modern" sense of fashion in big cities like Tarant and Caladon taking cues from real life 1885-1890s western fashions (to give myself some leeway with references). Smaller towns can be a bit more dated, but I try not to go back further than the 1870s in most cases.

However, for a character like Jayna, who hails from Dernholm, I gave her clothing from references dating back to the 1850-1860s. I did this because Jayna says in her recruitment dialogue that "[her] parents weren't wealthy people, and [she doesn't] make much money here in Dernholm," so I took this to mean that she likely wears clothing to last, wearing hand-me-downs, makes her own clothes, and mending it over the years rather than buying new clothes.

Given that Dernholm (+ the Kingdom of Cumbria in general) isn't in the best state when the game starts, they may be behind the times and the latest fashions take longer to reach Dernholm.

Gar: “Alas, poor Dernholm! Once home to the legendary Dragon Knights, it has fallen on hard times since Praetor became king some 60 odd years ago. He despises all technology, and I think he's recently become sour on magick as well.”

Herkemer Oggdoddler: “For two generations Cumbria languished as an economically abused and technologically impaired backwater in the shadow of Tarant. Its once fine capital, Dernholm, has become a ruin.”

Layer 1 - Chemise + Open Drawers. I deliberately drew the drawers as fairly loose so as to not expose her without having to redraw the pose or resort to "Barbie doll anatomy."

Various resources demonstrated the chemise being tucked into the drawers or worn fully untucked/loose, but I drew it as tucked-in for the sake of reference visibility, so perhaps either one works in practice.

Layer 2 - Corset + Socks/Stockings. I picked a more "contemporary" (1880s) design for the corset as I imagine it would be a more custom-fitted garment. Plus, anyone who has ever worn bras will attest that a bra that properly fits is comparable to a good pair of shoes: never cheap out on it because if you take care of it, it will take care of you. Perhaps that same logic can be applied to corsets in ye olden days and historically-inspired fantasy settings.

For Jayna, despite the simplistic design, it might be one of the few luxuries she can afford for herself given the necessity of the garment for bust support.

Layer 3 - Trousers + Shoes. I was inspired by vivandières and Dr. Mary Edwards Walker, who typically wore trousers beneath their skirts. Dr. Walker was a "surgeon, women’s rights advocate, abolitionist, and spy, [and] the first female U.S. Army surgeon during the Civil War." Since Jayna is an aspiring technological healer, I feel like an allusion to Dr. Walker and her practicality was appropriate.

Layer 4 - Petticoat. It's just something to fill out the skirt volume a tad. I considered adding a corset cover in this layer but I did like having the upper outline of the corset somewhat visible in the shirtwaist layer to illustrate her living situation (aka she doesn't have one or just has a poor-quality one). As a modern-age woman, I think this this all already looks like a laundering nightmare to wash by hand.

Layer 5 - Shirtwaist + Outer Skirt. I really like the shape of the 1860s Garibaldi blouse's sleeves (I think these are bishop sleeves? correct me if I'm wrong...) and the stripes allude to some 19th century nurse uniforms. I initially went for a plaid pattern but that was a pain to draw and using a pre-existing plaid brush/pattern just didn't look as good as I wanted it to be.

Layer 6 - Sash + Pistol Holster + Bag. Given Jayna's goals of becoming a tech healer, I took design cues from vivandières, who were 19th-century women attached to military regiments, with a few known vivandières being nurses (like Anna Etheridge).

However, rather than lifting the vivandière look completely, I imagine Jayna would attempt to replicate the silhouette with her own clothes. The bag is a bit of an amalgamation of various 18th-19th century hunting/frontier bags, so I apologize that I don't have a direct reference image.

---------------

Of course, in the end, I did take some liberties with the outfit so it's not completely historically-accurate, but that's okay since Arcanum is a fictional universe.

I guess I should've prefaced that I'm no expert on historical fashion, just a casual enthusiast who thinks "ooh old dress is pretty!"

I just wanted to see how far I could go before I had to make some concessions, such as:

Jayna's hair is short and worn loose while irl Victorian women typically had long hair and wore them up (there were documented exceptions of course). Many portraits for both female player characters and female NPCs across all in-game races show short hair and loose long hair, so let's just assume that 19th-century Arcanum has more relaxed feminine hair standards compared to the real-life 19th century western world. Also, irl 19th-century rural women did sell their hair for money, so maybe there's something to apply to the world of Arcanum with that. Or maybe the short-hair craze just hit Arcanum a few decades early *shrug*.

I initially planned to give her gloves, but many resources show vivandières not really wearing them, preferring to go barehanded.

The clothing colors may be a bit too saturated for the era I took inspiration from, but I wanted to stay somewhat faithful to Jayna's original sprite colors.

I did simplify some garments down for the sake of me having to draw enough layers as it is lol. Sorry if the lace wasn't fancy enough or that she doesn't have headwear. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Sometimes you just wanna finish a project and be done with it.

hoo boy, that was a lot

Thank You For Coming to My TED Talk :)

Now go play Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura~

[bobauthorman]

I have a statement to make, and I knew none of your are going to like. But I have to get it out of my system, so here it goes.

Ruby was wrong to lie to Ironwood at the beginning of Volume 7.

(Ducks thrown tomatoes)

NOW, let me say I am NOT saying Ironwood’s breakdown was Ruby’s fault, nor the subsequent destruction of Atlas and the Relics should be laid at her feet. She is NOT responsible for those events. It’s just, the lying thing still was not a good idea.

I know, I know. “But Ruby was right! Ironwood wasn’t trustworthy!” and “How can you expect her to trust the guy after the last bunch of authority figures screwed with her and her friends?!”

But the thing is, while Team Remnant couldn’t trust Ironwood with the truth, they did trust him otherwise. They accepted his gifts, worked with his soldiers, and helped him remain in power…an act that blew up in their faces when Cinder push Ironwood’s mental Big Red Button. 

When Ironwood outlines the first the step of his plan is to reestablish global communications, tell the world about Salem and then send his fleet to defend the other kingdoms, Ruby comments, “That…is a good plan.” From that one sentence, she shows that her hiding the truth was not just a matter of keeping from having a breakdown, but also keeping him on course for “a good plan.” The rest of us (Well, some of us) have the perspective and time to fully grasp and analyze how badly this plan could go. But Ruby does not have that perspective. As both Yang and Oscar point out, this is very similar to how Ozpin operated, and we all know how that worked. Overall, this was Xiao Long family’s usual method of dealing with difficult subjects by…not dealing and instead trying to bury their unease with work.

Now, to Ruby’s credit, when she sees what appears to be Ironwood opening up to others, she takes it as a cue that he can handle the full truth. And at no point does anyone realize that Salem herself is on the way, or that Cinder has been in Atlas for who knows how long. But by waiting so long, Ironwood has had too many shocking revelations that he can’t process finding out about the latter two. It’s just poor timing.

Ultimately, the decision to hold off on telling Ironwood the truth was a delaying action. It didn’t so much make the situation worse, but it did not make things better, especially with Watts and Tyrian doing their best to tweak the general’s nerves. Now, the question is, would telling him early on stop a breakdown?

I’m gonna say no.

And I think that’s the whole point of what I’m trying to say. Ironwood was always on a road to ruin. But if they had gotten it over with sooner, Team Remnant would only have had to deal with the mad general. By putting it off, this meant they were forced into a three-way conflict with both the Atlas Army and Salem herself. Ruby has a coping mechanism where she tries to avoid difficult subjects by burying herself in work, which is exactly what happened in Atlas. She felt bad about hiding the truth from Ironwood, and then got distracted by the endless missions. While on paper they were helping Atlas, it was the equivalent of dousing brushfires while not doing anything about the arsonist- everything wrong with Atlas was at present the result of Ironwood’s policies. He needed a wake-up call.

Now, I’m sure a lot of you will get on my case about this. We all want our heroes to be these flawless paragons who always make the right call. But one of RWBY’s themes that the ‘Perfect Hero’ just doesn’t exist. The show’s protagonists make mistakes. They act hypocritically. But what makes them better than the villains or even mentors who also do this is that they are far more willing to recognize those mistakes and try to deal with them.

[fallingdownhell]

Zhongli x fem reader's first time 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Now this will be interesting👀

Pairing: Zhongli x female reader

Content: female bodied reader; she/her pronouns for reader; virginity loss; first time; praise; penetration; use of nicknames; a little bit of overstimulation; multiple orgasms

Word count: 1,7k words

Have fun reading! I know I did while writing this..

Minors do NOT interact!

You threw your head back into the pillow as you felt another one of his fingers enter you, adding a bit more to your pain.

The intrusion felt foreign, it wasn't like anything you have ever felt before, making you feel uncomfortable.

A single tear escaped your eyes, rolling down your cheek. Not even a second after, you felt Zhongli's soft lips on your cheek, kissing the tear away.

"Are you alright, darling? Do you need me to stop?", he asked you, leaning closer to you, studying your face and reactions thoroughly. You managed to open your eyes, looking at him.

His eyes held so much love and adoration for you. You knew that if you were to ask him to stop this, he would do so, no questions asked, no matter how much he was yearning for release himself.

You could see through the outlines of his pants how hard he was, clearly turned on by this. Apart from his pants, he was naked as well, only keeping them on to not pressure you into doing anything you didn't want to do, as well as to not intimidate you with his size.

You took a few deep breaths in and out, before shaking your head.

"N-no.. I want to.. keep going.", you said with a shaky voice, the pain gradually ebbing off, turning into pleasure instead.

Zhongli didn't move again immediately. Instead, he took a few more moments to look at you, confirming that you actually meant it, before he began moving his two long fingers inside of you again, moving them in and out in a slow, steady pace.

You closed your eyes again at the feeling, squinting them as you threw an arm over your mouth, trying to stiffle the noises that threatened to escape you. It would have worked if it weren't for Zhongli suddenly attacking your sensitive neck with his own lips, kissing the skin there.

A soft moan slipped past your lips and you started to finally relax a little bit into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside your hole. Then, in the next second, you felt some pressure on your clit as well, as he moved his thumb over it, slowly circling it, adding more to your pleasure.

You sucked in a breath at the feeling, having never felt pleasure like this before in your life. Feeling Zhongli smile against the skin of your neck, he pulled back a bit to pull you into a deep, passionate kiss.

Relaxing even more into his loving touch, he increased the stimulation he was putting on your clit, making you moan into the kiss.

Breaking the kiss, you tried to catch your breath again, suddenly feeling a third finger prodding at your entrance.

"That's it, my love. Just relax for me, it's gonna be alright.", Zhongli whispered against your ear, kissing the shell of it before wandering down to your neck again, sucking a mark there.

You tried your best to listen to him, but you couldn't help clamping up a bit at the intrusion. Zhongli, obviously noticing this, began slowly circling one of your nipples with his free hand, playing with your breast, while going down and licking the other with his tongue.

Thanks to the added, pleasurable feeling, you ease up more, making it easier for him to move his fingers inside of you. Now, his slow, steady pace started to pick up more and more, as he was now also stroking your clit in earnest.

He let out a deep moan against your skin, feeling you clamp down on his fingers. He couldn't help but imagine how it would feel if it was his cock instead..

He started moving faster and faster as your moans increased in volume, determined to make you come at least once before he would think about his own pleasure, even though his dick was aching for attention by now.

"Z-Zhongli.. I..I'm-", you got cut off by yet another one of your moans. Moving your hips against him, helping him in moving his long fingers inside of you. He was hitting just right every time he thrusted into you again and again, and his thumb moving on your clit just made this so much better.

Your hands gripped his hair, holding his face pressed against your breasts, not that he minded though. He was already in heaven, seeing you like this, knowing that he was making you feel this good, only made his chest swell with pride even more.

"Yes. You're doing so good for me, darling. Do it, come for me." His words were muffled against your skin, but you were still able to understand him just fine.

As if his words were the last straw you didn't know you needed, you were suddenly overrun with immense pleasure as your whole body began to tremble and twitch in his hold. You were clamping down on his fingers as the pleasure just seemed to get more and more.

Zhongli moaned against your skin, a deep sound vibrating through your body as he felt you release on his fingers. He continued moving his hand, prolonging your orgasm, helping you get the most out of it.

Once he felt you relax against the mattress, breathing heavily, he carefully pulled his fingers out of your pussy and climbed up so that he was now towering over you. He looked down at you, your expression undescribable to him, tears running down your cheeks but he knew they were caused by the pleasure.

He admired you for a few more moments before leaning down and capturing your lips into a kiss again. You were still a bit out of it, but you soon came back to your senses.

He was moving on top of you, his still clothed erection pressing against you, making you let out another moan at the feeling, confirming to you how much he was enjoying this himself.

Your hands moved from his shoulders down to the waistband of his pants, slowly pulling it down along with his underwear, leaving him completely naked as well now.

He broke off the kiss, looking down at you, seeing how you were eyeing him. He couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips as he leaned down to give you a loving peck on your forehead.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll be careful. If ever you feel uncomfortable, don't hesitate to tell me, alright?"

You nodded, bracing yourself, knowing that it would most likely hurt. Zhongli noticed this, giving you a few other reassuring pecks on your face as he took a hold of his cock, giving it a few quick pumps, then lining himself up with your hole.

He looked into your eyes, making you look at him so that you would focus on him, then slowly started pushing into you.

You immediately squinted your eyes closed at the feeling. He was so much bigger than three of his fingers. It was uncomfortable and it hurt, but not enough that you wanted him to stop.

So, you took a deep breath, trying to force your body to relax and nodded, signaling for him to continue. However, he didn't move right away again. Instead, he reached down between your bodies, rubbing your clit, assisting you in making you relax again.

It helped, you started to loosen up more and he started to slide the rest of his cock inside you. Once he was finally all the way inside, you felt so full. You knew he was big, but you would have never thought that it would feel like this. Like your entire body was filled to the brim with just him..

A single tear escaped your eyes again, and Zhongli leanded down to capture it again, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Are you alright, my love?"

You nodded again, gradually getting used to the feeling of his cock inside your pussy, slowly getting turned into pleasure.

"Y-you can.. move.", you told him with a shaky voice, bracing yourself again.

He did as your requested, starting out slow and steady. He pulled out almost all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before thrusting in again in one quick, smooth motion.

Zhongli burried his face into the crook of your neck, panting loudly, but otherwise, no noises left him except for a groan here and there.

His thrusts gradually became faster at the feeling of your walls clamping down on him. It was even better than he had imagined before. You were obviously struggling with his size and somehow, that only excited him even more.

You hooked your legs behind him, your arms throwing themselves around his shoulders, holding him in this position. He wasn't able to move away from you anymore, not that he would ever want that in the first place.

He placed one hand into your hair, making you arch your neck so that he could mark you up there, while his other hand continued to rub circles into your clit.

Seeing as you were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, you were already close again.

"Ahh! Z-Zhongli! I'm- I'm close!", you tried telling him, hoping that he might slow down so you could enjoy this for a bit longer. However, he only increased the speed of his thrusts at this, rubbing your clit even harder than he had before.

"Mmm, me too, darling. I'm close too.", he spoke against your skin then continued to mark you up like it wasn't enough already.

You wanted to say something else, but in the next second, pleasure overtook you again as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. You cried out, moaning at the intensity of it all, your body trembling as the walls of your pussy clamped down on his cock over and over.

Zhongli let out a deep groan at the feeling, making a few more thrusts into your pussy before pulling out. He came all over your stomach, painting it in white.

You were both breathing heavily, exhausted. Zhongli fell down next to you on the mattress, pulling you close against his chest. He really wanted to get up and get a towel for you so he could clean you up.

But right now, he needed to feel close to you first, tell you how good you made him feel and how much he loved you, before he would take care of your every need. After all, he devoted himself to you, so he would take care of you, no matter what you needed of him...

[bestworstcase]

Any Summer Maiden ideas?

Not their identity per se, but rather their role or thematic undertones you think they might have in future volume/s? And how they might contrast to the other Maidens?

Or even the Maidens as a whole, especially as we slowly inch closer and closer to having a 'full set'?

i stand by the gillian theory and my general thoughts on what the maidens are for, thematically. if she isn’t gill, i think she’s definitely starr (& as outlined in the gillian theory post, between gill’s semblance and the ATMs i think the summer maiden might get hot potatoed without character deaths—in the form of gill temporarily stealing the magic by draining the real maiden’s aura with her semblance, or if gill is the maiden, the ATMs being used to permanently transfer half her aura to jax and that causing the maiden power to part from her and go to someone else, probably starr).

there’s also the ‘lessons’ and the divine quality associated with each maiden:

winter + creation + “learn to center yourself and think reflectively to gain awareness of who you are and what you can contribute to the world”

the medical neglect fria is subjected to as an woman with dementia deprives her of this ability, until penny treats her with compassion and dignity, which affords her a moment of clarity and agency in whom she chooses to be her heir;

likewise, penny is subjected to extreme dehumanization even by the standards of the atlesian military and the central conceit of her character arc is her struggle to assert her personhood; becoming the maiden intensifies this struggle and, like fria, she’s unable to escape it in the end;

so the winter maiden passes to winter, who embodied the lesson all along: “emotions can grant you strength, but you must never let them overpower you” + “we must still acknowledge our feelings, wrestle with them. it insures us that we’re on the right path. it’s what makes us human.”

the winter maiden arc is about the act of self-creation—how do we make ourselves human? how do we define ourselves? what does it mean to be a person? to become real?

spring + knowledge + “hard work can be its own reward” and “try to nurture the life around you and remember to ‘stop and smell the roses.’”

the last spring maiden, we’re told, found the burden to great and ran away. raven says that she “never learned,” no matter how much training raven put her through.

vernal, the false maiden, is presented as someone with incredible dedication to her tribe who has trained hard with the magic she was given. (and this is not entirely false: vernal is devoted to the tribe, and she has clearly worked hard to hone her skill.)

raven, the real maiden, “needed to know more” and went looking for the truth on her own; she tells weiss and yang “so far you’ve done nothing but accept what others tell you, but you need to question everything” and that “the truth is hard to come by.”

the spring maiden arc is about the effort it takes to uncover the truth, but also the effort it takes to conceal it, and the connecting thread between all three ‘maidens’ (real or not) is this idea of training-as-duty; something both of the real maidens are said to have ‘abandoned’ whereas the false maiden did not.

crucially, this arc is not over and won’t be over until we know what really happened to the last spring maiden, but the set up is toward an interrogation and rejection of this ‘training-as-duty’ conceit: hard work is its own reward, but it’s important to stop and smell the roses; ie, training and dedication to a cause is its own reward, but only if the cause itself is worthy. the last spring maiden was a child given too great a burden, raven left because she found that she had been deceived.

fall + choice + “be thankful for what you have and show your gratitude.”

amber is traveling alone when she’s attacked, with qrow tailing her at too great a distance to intervene; it’s unclear whether she was part of the inner circle herself. after the power is divided, they keep her on life support inside the ATM in anticipation of finding a new vessel for the magic still attached to her soul. no apparent attempt to get her actual medical care.

pyrrha is asked to become their sacrificial vessel for amber’s soul, for the sake of keeping the remaining part of the magic from recombining with its other half in cinder. she’s torn between feeling like this is an obstacle preventing her from fulfilling her destiny and fear that this is how she must fulfill her destiny, at the cost of who she is.

cinder—who had nothing—sees the maidens like this: “you think that hoarding power means you’ll have it forever, but that just makes the rest of us hungrier! …and i refuse to starve.” she’s the only maiden in the story who actively wanted to become a maiden and her chief role in the spring and winter arcs has been forcing the other maidens out of the vault-keys paradigm, through opening the vault (spring) or interfering with a machine transfer (winter).

the fall maiden arc is about freeing the maidens so that they can choose themselves; ozpin and his inner circle objectify the maidens and seek to possess and control them. the maidens are disposable, replaceable as long as the other side doesn’t get them. cinder represents the inversion of the fairytale moral, as someone who was deprived and subjugated for her whole life; “be grateful for what you have” becomes the wrathful “it just makes the rest of us hungrier.”

this arc is not over either; what remains is for cinder to let go of her desire for the other maidens and find a way to fulfill what she actually wants, which is freedom and safety. but because the fall maiden arc is so intertwined with the others—cinder as the violent liberator wrenching the other maidens out of this system—her presence in vale with salem has implications for how the summer maiden arc might unfold.

so.

summer + destruction + “don’t view the world at a distance, take an active part in it.”

as i discussed here, i’m skeptical that the mystery girl in B1 is the summer maiden. but if she is, or if she’s a presumptive heir, the secrecy surrounding her and the fact that she isn’t publicly known or acting in the open like winter and raven are would suggest that the inner circle hasn’t shifted its thinking whatsoever on the maidens: winter and raven are free because their vaults are open and salem has their relics, but the summer maiden must be kept hidden to safeguard her vault.

on the other hand, if mystery girl is a spy (emerald), then the summer maiden’s absence could suggest either that she is in hiding or that she is someone outside of the inner circle’s control.

because cinder isn’t in vacuo, i think the latter option is more likely—which is one reason i think it’s probably gillian first and starr becoming the maiden during the vacuo arc. if the summer maiden is already someone outside of, and antagonistic to, the inner circle, then there is no narrative need for cinder to be involved in the summer maiden arc; the summer maiden is already free.

(this would also allow for an interesting inversion of the last two arcs and mirroring with the second beacon arc, in that if gillian is the summer maiden, the crown will be gunning for the sword of destruction, and the conflict is not “how do we keep the key out of salem’s hands” but “how can we prevent an enemy maiden from taking the relic.”)

similarly, if the maiden is starr, then the crown is likely to be gunning for her and between the twins’ semblances and tyrian they certainly have the means to do it if they find her.

the other thing to consider with regard to the summer maiden is the history vacuo has with the sword, and how that intersects with the summer maiden’s theme of taking an active part in the world: eighty years ago, ozma used that sword to end a war and enact dramatic world-wide changes, and then he sealed it away with the presumable intent that it would never be used again. this is antithetical to the thematic purpose of the summer maiden and of destruction conceptually; the summer maiden must act, and destruction is a force which drives constant change.

if the summer maiden is part of the inner circle and on board with keeping the sword locked away at the top of the vacuo arc, i think it’s very likely that she will die, and the power will go to a character who wants to open the vault and use it to protect vacuo. whether that is gillian or starr or both at different points in the narrative, it makes sense to me for the summer maiden to be someone who decides that the sword must be used, for better or worse.

if gillian is the summer maiden, i think her determination to use the sword for vacuo’s sake in combination with her love for her brother might end up being the common ground between the crown and the coalition: they agree to help her heal her brother via partial aura transfer, she agrees to relinquish the maiden power, and everyone comes together to mount a counteroffensive using the sword of destruction. or the summer maiden power might end up divided between multiple people, with gillian keeping half and the half attached to the aura transferred to jax seeking a new host.

generally, i think it’s more likely than not that the summer maiden will break the existing pattern of [vulnerable dead/dying maiden] -> [“false” or “illegitimate” maiden] -> [freed maiden] and in that case the expectation that the initial summer maiden will die might be subverted completely. there is also something compelling about the summer maiden choosing to ‘destroy’ her power by dividing it, in a mirror image of the fall maiden arc.

although that being said i don’t think the maiden cycle itself will be ended, just freed from the artificial system of control imposed by the vaults and the oz conspiracy.

[invested-in-your-future]

I feel like people wouldn't discriminate openly again after the War. Maybe shops refusing service but they aren't going to imprison people just because they are Faunus. The world has rejected that.

I am sorry but that's naive.

That's now how racism works - bigots don't just shrug and become good when they are told "racism bad" (despite that being the only thing shown happening in the MilesWBY canon, with Yang telling someone racism bad).

Discrimination has layers, and levels of intensity - and people "feeling" that way don't just disappear - they adapt and they prod over and over again to see what's "acceptable" currently.

Sure, smaller discrimination cases will happen, but that's not the "end".

Discrimination always longs to reach its "greatest hits" - there's a reason why lots of ideologies of oppression resort to "Hey, do you want to go back to the Good Old Days when X?"

Smaller cases of intolerance not getting a pushback are treated as "acceptable status quo" - and the bigotry takes a step forward and escalates onto bigger ones.

And before you know it, you have dehumanizing language, restrictions, rights being taken away, laws being walked back upon and repealed.

It's all about moving the window of what's "acceptable" - we have seen it in our world over and over again (for example - the surge of racism and authoritarian surveillance after September 11)

Think about it - in the show, with Volume 3 one of the four largest huntsmen academies got assaulted by White Fang.

Of course, it's not just them, but that only means different people with different prejudices will focus on different parts of what happened - to some, Atlas would be at fault, while to others - Faunus would be at fault.

Discrimination of all kinds would absolutely escalate - bigotry twists facts to its liking to "prove itself right" - mistrust spreads, and tragedy births propaganda.

And yes - White Fang is not the whole species, but to bigots, that wouldn't matter - it's an age-old tradition to take the examples of worst-of and use them as stereotypes, broad brush strokes, and all.

Destruction, discrimination, AND war are largely cyclical in no small part due to complacency and ignorance.

Need I remind you that even in "present-day Remnant" Atlas (and especially Schnees) had literal slave mines? Remnant is nowhere near close to getting rid of the uglier parts of its past.

One of the most disappointing aspects of the show is that there never were any real consequences or shockwaves from what happened at Vale - not just in terms of kingdom relations and tensions, but also in terms of Faunus rights, mistrust, and overall chaos. In a way, the show ended up making Fall of Beacon feel smaller than it actually was because of that.

The shockwaves of what happened at Beacon SHOULD affect all four main leads in different ways due to how the event connects to them as people.

It robbed us of the arc about Ruby dealing with the realities of the world and her idealism as the world around her falls apart and everyone she knows is hurt (and few of her closest friends are dead)

It robbed us of the arc about Weiss having to face the oppressive privileged nature of her family and things in her life she took for granted.

It robbed us of the arc about Blake having to face the increasingly hostile world around her as she struggles to find her path and face her own indecisiveness and hypocrisy.

It robbed us of Yang having to deal with the fallout of the tournament and the uncertain chaotic reality of the world around her as she's searching for a goal of her own.

It's one of the first things I thought about when I started outlining my plans years ago. There are multiple avalanche effects planned out for more than one part of the setting and characterization of the leads.

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

The first batch of pictures for Amoré's character journal are here! Also I have been so super sick that I've literally had nothing to do but to work on this for like almost 2 weeks so...

The cover to cover tour officially starts here. All I can say about the front & back is that I lament my lack of experience with my Cricut when I made these decals. I only had 2 "fun" colors to work with at the time & I was still getting comfortable drawing in Procreate, so my silhouette art leaves a lot to be desired compared to some stuff I've made recently. I also found it's incredibly easy to burn this leather book.

But she's volume one, everything with her is a learning experience, & I realized as much as it helps to have a mini heat press for tight corners & small spaces, the cloth barrier they suggest you use between the vinyl & the iron tends to make things harder to press on this scale. So instead I gotta quickly tap straight on the transfer film & hope I don't burn anything around it :(´◦ω◦｀):ﾟﾟ

So at the risk of thoroughly exposing my inner theater kid, Amoré set the precedent with how I went forward creating campaign characters. I started off collecting 5 songs to make a mini story arc (almost like a show choir set list 🙃) that helps me figure out an outline for the kind of story I wanna give them.

Somehow Amoré ended up with a truly horrendous blend of rock & theatre. Absolutely incredibe. No wonder she's always such a dramatic bitch.

It was a lot easier to go in & add little decals around these lyrics. I'm definitely cursed with the Too Much™ gene, but I enjoy the little pops of color they give ✨ plus it justifies me hoarding all these vinyl scraps printing stuff this small lol.

Stat sheet!

In all honesty, as my first character I had no fucking clue what I was doing when I placed these & if I could go back & change one thing I'd probably swap her Intelligence & her Wisdom. She’s definitely more people smart than book smart.

But everything else is...very accurate. She has all the upper body strength of a chicken nugget. Plus on top of the (already) negative I traded disadvantage on everything DEX for magic crystal shoes that can be periodically harvested. Just a way for her to carry around the family fortune without actually having to return to the vault✨

For something that started so average, her CON became a monster & always comes in clutch for her alcohol tolerance. I've played variations of her across a few different one shots & I always manage to roll well for anything alcohol related. The dice do respect a bit 🤣

Spells on the other hand, I floundered with a lot at first because we’re not a combat heavy game, but then I found Chaos Bolt & that was that. It’s essentially Amoré in spell form & I’ve had a ton of fun with it over the years. Also Mage Armor cuz my girl is SO DISTRESSINGLY SQUISHY.

Cantrips were more or less a bit of a toss up. Message was fun for the sheer idea of her using it to talk shit during social events without being caught. But aside from Light serving fun backstory purposes the other 3 are kinda just what looked fun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ unless you count the idea that she would absolutely delight in zapping handshakes.

From there, I wanted to extend the world map made by our wonderful DM @cappierong into a full scroll. Ya know, for the aesthetic ✨

Our campaign started in Civania, where Amoré's main Estate is. I just wanted a quick mock up to reference, so I edited a preexisting picture I found that checked all the boxes (large, on a plateau, accessible only by bridge) and then absolutely smothered it in flowers.

But anyways... This is primarily where Diana & Amoré grew up together in their decade of backstory ✨

There was probably waaaay to much back & forth trying to keep the continuity between stuff I've already drawn & this big reference. But I think it turned out pretty ok? Not like if I make a mistake anyone will really know lol.

Scaling was also another big issue I had, & I moments where I thought something was too big I just kinda handwaved it away like "ehhhhh she's from a stupid rich family." But now I have a NEED to draw baby Diana & Amoré around like, the statue gardens or something cuz I feel like certain parts of this place are definitely ominous 👀 especially for children...

And lastly we have the back cover & the High Noble political relationship map! I normally have this closer to the front but for layout purposes it'll be here. I kinda feel like I need to do more for the decoration of it but I can’t think of anything else to add at the moment.

Sam if u read that no you didn't.

But now! Other than a family portrait that I've always wanted to draw, I think I'm ready to move onto the art for Season 1 : Arc 2. It's a pretty hefty amount of art in comparison to others, so I gotta get busy. Especially since I think I'm gonna have to draw a few comics *sobs*

If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! I'm always excited to talk out our little idiots so thanks for indulging me ❀(*´▽`*)❀