#it felt as though I was peering into the very soul of the universe for a moment

[quintiple-a]

Guys math is just literal wizard shit. Like the way they can transmute numbers and invoke higher dimensions and conjure imaginary entities to elegantly solve a seemingly impossible problem…

It’s like “ha ha! I have constructed the impenetrable sphere! It is literally impossible to defeat it by brute force!” And then another guy is like :) and draws a funny shape and suddenly the whole sphere turns into a line and the wizard just goes around it and you’re like whaaaat. “Ah ha, but if I merely tesselate this periodic tiles like so…” and then it turns out a puzzle that has stumped scholars for ages is not only instantly resolved but opened up entire new worlds of research in the process.

This post brought to you by YouTube videos explaining math and physics concepts about things like the recently discovered aperiodic monotile

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

COMING SOON: FRIDAY, OCTOBER 11th

summary: when you come into his shop to get your boyfriend's car fixed, yunho can help but wonder what a hardworking, pretty girl like you is doing with someone so...pathetic. and maybe, just maybe, he feels like he could treat you better.

pairing: cowboy mechanic!yunho x female!reader

genre: smut (not in teaser) | non-idol au | strangers to lovers

rating: 18+ (no smut in teaser)

word count: 1.1k in teaser (full fic will be ~8k)

content/warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), strangers to lovers

notes: this is in the same universe of assert your dominance! and you might even find the mc in that fic here 🤭 i'm really excited about this one! so i hope you like it 💗

and if you want to join the taglist you can do so here or you can let me know in my inbox!

Where the fuck was this place? You took another turn down another shaded alley. It was weirdly dark for being two in the afternoon. 

The tapping of your fingers on the steering wheel was the only music because the stereo had gone out months ago and no one was able to get it fixed. Until now apparently. 

Because after six wrong turns you finally pulled into the parking lot. Your friend had recommended it when you’d told her this car had been having all sorts of issues, and she told you this was the place to go. And then she pulled up the instagram of one of the mechanics and went on for several minutes about how hot he was. That may have been the only reason she requested this place.

It looked official enough. The brick building was large enough to house the two large garage doors that left the shop open. Peering inside you could see a mechanic checking the taillights of an old Chevy, before venturing back to his toolbox. There weren’t many people inside. From what you could see, there were only two mechanics in the garage, and you didn’t see any customers or other employees. Maybe they’re understaffed. 

You shrugged before swinging the car door open and grabbing your purse out of the passenger’s seat, brushing off your pants before you made your way in. There wasn’t a front desk or a receptionist to talk to, and you got the feeling that this shop was solely run and staffed by the men inside. 

No one noticed you for several seconds. Both men seemed entirely too caught up in their current tasks. You shuffled your feet a couple of times and tried to catch the eye of one of them, but no one seemed to notice your presence. They must not get very busy. 

“Um…hello?” You spoke, trying not to startle either of them. 

They both turned to you, and the man closest to you opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut off when the other man behind him jogged over, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and muttering a quick, “I’ve got her, Min.” 

“Min” chuckled and rolled his eyes, returning to his work.

Oh god. You felt a pit form in your gut at the prospect of him flirting with you. 

“Hey doll, what can I do for ya?” Something about the way he sauntered up to you and smiled so gently immediately filled your stomach with butterflies, but ignored them for the sake of your own sanity.

Doll. That was a new one, and you felt deep in your soul that it would have disgusted you from anyone else. But something about this stranger was strangely comforting. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head as he waited for you to speak. Maybe it was the baseball cap strewn backwards on his head. Or maybe it was the strands of his taupe hair that fell in front of his face. Strands you imagined yourself brushing up into his hat.

Your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your purse, “I’m, uh, having some car issues.”

The laugh he let out, and the curve of his lips that accompanied it, made the tips of your ears burn, “Of course you are, sweetheart. Anything in particular, though?”

“Oh,” you chuckled softly along with him, “Well, he mentioned that the acceleration has been kinda weird, and I thought the engine was kinda loud when I drove it here today. Sorry, I don’t really know a ton about cars.”

He hummed and tapped his foot a couple of times, “Which one is it?” 

You pointed across the lot. 

“Alright, let me pull it into the garage,” he put his hand out in your direction. 

You stared at it, confused, and when you looked back up at his face he was smiling at you again. Stupid smile. He made your heart flutter more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“Keys, sweetheart. Your keys.”

“Oh,” you scrambled around in your purse before handing him the keys, embarrassed. 

Took them from you and pulled the car through the big garage doors. When he stepped out of the car he looked at you curiously, “This your car?”

You shook your head, “No it’s my boyfriend’s. He’s been…busy…lately, so he hasn’t been able to bring it in. He keeps complaining about it, though, so I just decided to do it for him, I guess.”

He raised his eyebrow at you and nodded slowly. 

“What?” you asked, moderately offended.

Shaking his head, he waved a dismissive hand, “Nothing. Sorry. You just seemed a little unsure is all.”

“Yeah…I don’t know. I honestly think he just kept complaining so that I would get tired of his whining and just get it fixed,” You chuckled awkwardly. Why the fuck were you telling him this? You started to feel a little embarrassed.

And that feeling only got worse when you saw the mildly horrified look on his face. 

You shook your head and ran a frustrated hand through your hair, “Can you just fix it?”

That pretty fucking smile came back. “Of course I can. Glad you brought this in when you did, honestly. Seems like your boy toy’s got a bit of an exhaust leak. Could be pretty dangerous, so it's good to get it off the road.”

“Ah, perfect.” You shifted on your feet, “How long will it take, do you think?”

He lifted his hat and ruffled his messy hair before readjusting it on his head. Why did every little movement he made drive you crazy? “Unfortunately, issues like this take a couple days. I can probably finish her up tomorrow, but I don’t think I can finish it up today.”

You nodded, “Okay. I’ll try to get a ride home.”

“Alright, doll. Let me write down your number real quick so I…so we can call ya when she’s ready.”

You wrote down your name and number for him on a pink sticky note that he stuck to the dash. 

“Perfect!” He smiled at you, “We’ll call ya tomorrow, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile back, “Awesome! Thank you…Oh. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Yunho. My name is Yunho, sweetheart. It’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand for you to shake it.

And you couldn’t help the ramming of your heart in your chest when he took your hand into his own.

[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

[romancefranaticstay]

A/N: Because i really didn't know which member you wanted, i will use Lee Know for this, i haven't made story's about him in a while. Feel free to comment if you had another member in mind or members! But here is it! I hope you like it 💗

The perfect family with the perfect children. Your parents had a lot of money, okay. Your parents had a lot of stuff, what difference does that make? The only thing you didn't get was love. Money couldn't compensate with love. Even when you were little, your parents didn't pay you any attention. You were babysat while they did something else. You didn't really know where they were going.

They weren't brutal or gruesome behind the scenes, they just didn't care about you, ignoring your words, ignoring your problems. Then they wonder why you didn't like them. What a child endures in his youth has consequences for the future. Even though they didn't understand that.

FLASHBACK

'Don't forget, smile, nod and serve.'

your mother said sternly. You were neatly dressed, you had a beautiful dark blue dress with neat black shoes. You could say the perfect daughter. Your parents' faces were cold. They prepared everything so that they could receive their friends in the large living room. A bell sounded, they had arrived. Your mother walked to the door with a stern step, once she opened it she became a different person. It was as if her soul was being swapped. You stood behind her, peering, there was some distance between you.

'Welcome! Give your things to Y/N.”

“Ahh, hello girl. You've already grown up.'

"Yes, she's my big girl." your mother laughed with a fake smile.

She hugged you quickly, even though you felt no warmth, no love. Your parents pampered you all the time. It felt bad that they only did it because there were guests, but at the moment you enjoyed it. When the guests wanted to leave, you mentally prepared yourself again. Once the door was closed, your parents went into the living room and just sat there.

"Mommy, daddy, do you love me?"

"What kind of question is that, you are our daughter."

'Is that all?'

'Is there more?'

'No.' you said quietly.

You went up the stairs to your bedroom. Your bedroom was nice and big, with lots of toys and lots of stuff. Despite the luxury, you missed something. Your friends always told stories about their parents reading them stories or watching a movie together. Cozy and cozy in the armchair with a big fluffy blanket... you cried in your room that day, when you realised, you never received parental love...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The real problem started when you were eighteen. You met a cool guy at your university. His name was Lee Know. You quickly became friends. Your relationship grew and at one point he wanted to be roommates. Of course your parents didn't care. Even though they were very 'emotional' about the move (the move was public). After a year you started dating. Now you're 21, you've been with him for two years. Suddenly he asked for something that you couldn't give him.

“Y/N, I never actually met your parents?”

'Really?' you lied.

'Yes, I would like to meet them sometime. The people who created you are probably just as sweet as you are.'

'Yes, they certainly are.' you forced a smile onto your face.

"I'll take care of it." you lied.

You had told him they were busy at the moment. You tried for two weeks to focus his thoughts elsewhere, and it still worked. He forgot after a while, but then he asked again and again, again and again. Eventually he started to think that you didn't want to introduce him to his parents, technically that was true, but not in the way he thought.

“Y/N, why won't you introduce me to your parents?”

you froze.

'Why? Are you ashamed of me?'

"No, no, Lee Know that's not the reason." '

'Then what? Then what is the reason? I introduced you to my parents, right?'

"I know that, I know that."

"You're going to tell me a thorough reason now."

“I-i..”

tears came to your eyes, they rolled down your cheeks by the hundreds. Lee Know's face softened.

“Hey, hey, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just-, I just wanted to know why?'

he wiped the tears from your face with his hands.

"I hate them." you whispered.

"You, you hate them?" You nodded softly, not wanting to look at him right now.

'Why?'

you continued to stare at the ground. He gently lifted your chin.

“Look at me Y/N. Tell me.'

Your lips quivered, you started to stutter. Lee Know hugged you and rocked you from side to side.

“Shh, I get it. Just tell me when you're ready, okay?'

He felt you nod against his chest. He picked you up in one motion, your hands were around his neck. He carried you to the bedroom and gently laid you on the bed. He grabbed his laptop and covered himself and you with a warm blanket. He put on a series, you curled up against him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You opened your eyes and saw Lee Know awake. He was looking at you. His arms still hugging you.

'You want to tell me it?'

You accepted.

'The thing is, my parents didn't give me any love when I was little. They were different at home than outside. They gave me a lot of stuff and luxury, but that was it.”

he nodded.

'I want to introduce you to them, but not them to you. I just don't want to be in the same room as them, it would all be too much for me.'

"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

'I don't know, I'm trying to get them out of my life. Forgetting them, no matter how difficult it may be.'

"I get it, I won't bother you about it anymore okay?"

He held you tighter. You nuzzled into his chest.

'May I ask you something?'

"Of course kitten."

"How does it feel to have parents?"

'What do you mean?'

"How does it feel to have parents and not people who just made you."

"I'll be honest, I love my parents dearly because they love me dearly too."

You nodded.

"My parents also love you dearly, for you you are their daughter."

'Really?'

“Yes Y/N. They constantly check with me to see if everything is okay with you. They ask for you, just like concerned parents.'

You had some tears of happiness in your eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lee Know's parents were slowly becoming your 'parents' too. You grew very close to his mother, she was like the mother you never had. Your parents didn't bother you, because they didn't call you anyway. Life continued again. You could proudly say that you were no longer Y/N I/N but Y/N Know.

┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐

-------------------------------- THE END----------------------------------

└────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Fix You

Sam Winchester x Fem Singer Reader

Soulmate AU very loosely based on the Coldplay song ‘Fix You’.

‘Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones and I will try to fix you’

Sam Winchester x reader

Warnings - slight angst, soulless sam briefly, johns terrible parenting, mentions of death, fluff, my terrible writing/ editing.

Mainly fluff but some angst

Words- 2.2K

The term soulmate is used to describe an all consuming love, a love so deep it was created by God? Fate? When two souls are destined to be together, two halves of a whole. Who knows where they originated from, some say it’s when the universe was created with a big bang, every atom was split into two and spread miles apart, you are one of those broken atoms, trying to find your other half.

The idea has been romanticised by happy couples across the globe, who have been lucky enough to find their soulmates. But it’s not sunshine and daisies for everyone, some never find their soulmates, others don’t have a soulmate at all, and some very unlucky people lose their soulmates death pulling them apart.

At 18 years old you received your mark, a burning sensation carved into the skin above your heart, searing pain as his name branded into your skin. The day started like any other, you woke up early your Dad knocking on your door “wake up kiddo we’ve got a job” you dad calls through the door. “Yeah ok dad, give me five minutes and I’ll be down” you reply voice still laced with sleep. You made your way quickly to the bathroom to get ready, before grabbing your to go bag and heading through the front door. “What’s the monster of the week then dad?” You ask hopping into the passenger seat of your dads run down mustang. “Vamps we think, the Winchester's are meeting us there” he replied. You’ve known the winchesters since you were a small kid, practically growing up with the boys. They would stay over yours for weeks at a time while John was working a case, so naturally you were all close friends, you were especially close with Sam though who was only a year older than you. Together you shared a love of books, animals, watching the stars and annoying Dean.

The vamp case went well, the nest was extinguished and you were all back at your motel rooms. John and your dad were outside your rooms, sitting on the steps to the motel sharing a drink, while you and the boys were settling down for the night. While brushing your teeth in the bathroom it started, the burning across your chest. The pain was pretty unbearable and you toppled over into the shower space, sitting now on the damp floor of the shower you held your chest gasping.

After what felt like hours the pain sizzled down to a soreness, which felt very much like a sunburn. Giving yourself a second to gain composure you stood up and walked to the bathroom mirror, with a deep breath you pulled your oversized band tshirt over your shoulder and peered at your chest. And there in neat cursive writing was the name ‘Samuel Winchester’ “holy shit!!!” You gasped completely in shock. You braced yourself before running out the bathroom and out of your motel room, startling John and your dad as you banged on the room two doors up from you, Dean answered the door wearing an equally as shocked expression as you were, he stepped to the side allowing you access and there on the motel room floor was a very distressed Sam holding his chest still, “it’s you!” He exclaims, “your my person?” He questions, a quiet “Yeah” is all you can muster up at that moment, panicking that he’s annoyed or worse disappointed.

When Sam stands up and starts walking over to you, you really start to panic, but to your surprise he throws his arms around you, and pulls you in snug to his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck. ‘I always knew it was you, well I hoped anyway” he confesses a blush across his cheeks, “me too” you reply, smile gracing your lips and unshed tears in your eyes. “I’m so glad it’s you” you continue , before standing on your tiptoes and placing a small peck to his lips. All the while Deans still stood in the doorway with a vacant shocked expression on his face, before coming out with “damn it! Now we all have to put up with this chick flick mushy crap from you both”. Sam huffs out a laugh before turning to his brother and answering with a “yep, get used to it man’. After that your dads come in to see what’s going on, your dad congratulates you both, all while giving Sam the don’t you ever hurt her speech, John on the other hand looks anything but pleased, muttering something along the lines of ‘no good will come from this’.

That was nearly a decade ago now, and you have been through hell together since then, quite literally. You followed him to Stanford, starting a degree in literature and eventually sharing a dorm with him. Unlike his dad, your dad Bobby was supportive, happy you we’re both getting out and living life. You left Stanford and said degree with him to help find his dad, started travelling with him and Dean, and hunting again much to your dads despair. You held his hand through the whole psychic thing, with the yellow eyed demon, told him he wasn’t a freak and it wasn’t his fault. When he died your soul shattered with him, you held him sobbing into his hair while Dean took the deal to bring him back. You had to hold him again when Dean was taken to hell for making that deal. You both tried everything, read every book, asked every Demon, monster and hunter if there was any way to bring him back.

Lucifer was one of the biggest obstacles you faced together, with Dean safely back things were better for a while, only to be pulled into the lucifer and Michael war. Seeing him fall into that pit after your touch snapped Sam back into control of his body, was one of the worst pains you’d ever felt. Watching Dean and Cas fall into their lives and some normalcy was incredibly hard. “Will you be alright sweetheart?” Dean had asked, “Yeah I guess, I’ll probably head back to dad’s” you had replied, a complete lie obviously you were far from alight. You felt left behind, broken and alone, you couldn’t just move on when half of you was missing. But his name never left your chest, usually when a soulmate dies the other loses their mark. But not you, you’d later come to realise this was because not all of Sam was in lucifer’s cage.

Soulless Sam was one hell of a challenge at first you were just so glad to have him back, that you didn’t question how wrong he felt, you did every test on him and he smiled and allowed you to do so. But that pull to him, the warmth and unconditional feelings were gone. You’d felt awful, riddled with guilt. This was Sam your Sam, and he was home with you, safe and breathing! So why couldn’t you shake that feeling something was off? Especially when he kept telling you to not tell Dean he was alive and well.

Working with the Cambels was exhausting and you didn’t like his grandfather Samual at all! He was hiding things you knew that much, and he treated his so called family terribly. You eventually found some comfort when Dean was back with you guys, he was soo mad to start with why hadn’t no one told him. Then he also began to realise Sam wasn’t Sam, the first time he talked to you about it you had fallen apart, just sat there and sobbed on Dean. It had felt like such a relief to talk to someone about it, your dad had said it may just be Sam now, that Hell may have changed him. But you’d told Dean that you couldn’t feel that connection anymore, your couldn’t feel him! And that was enough for Dean. He had called your dad to explain further to him “Even y/n can tell somethings off Bobby! I’m tellin’ you when his soulmate says she can’t feel him in there, I’m inclined to believe her! My skins crawling just being with him Bobby please just ask around, find something!” Dean had yelled through the phone.

Cas had eventually come when Dean had called, and discovered what we had all thought, Sam’s soul was missing. Cas had said putting it back into him would be “ill advised” but neither of you could leave him like this, and the way he had been treating you saying he didn’t care, it was crushing your heart. “Death said he will go to hell and collect his soul, he’ll put up a sorta wall in his head sweetheart to block out Hell, it’s going to be ok. I promise I’ll get sammy back” Dean had explained to you before ‘playing death’ for 24 hours, a wager Death had set in order to place Sam’s soul back.

You felt it before you saw it, Sam’s soul was in that bag death was carrying, it called to you desperate to feel yours. That moment was all too much, the desperation to be near his soul again, the screams from Sam begging not to have it put back in, “don’t do it Dean please! It will kill me! You heard Cas!” Sam yelled, “I’m sorry Sammy we have too” Dean replied, emotion clutching at his voice. “Now Sam, I'm going to put up a barrier inside your mind... You might feel a little itchy. Do me a favour... don't scratch the wall. Because, trust me, you're not going to like what happens.” Death had explained, “Now y/n I’m going to need you to hold his hand, feel the energy connecting between your souls, you need to hold onto it. And when I push his soul in, use that energy to surround it, your connection will help to hold that barrier in place and heal his soul, it won’t fix it completely, but it will get Sam on his feet” Death further explained to you. You’d blindly followed his instructions, moving towards Sam on shakey legs. You sat on his cot with him trying to ignore his violent thrashing and took hold of his hand. As soon as death opened the bag your energy’s pulled together like magnets. It was in that moment you saw and felt the pure power of soulmates, blinding white light filled the room, Sam’s soul was forced back in place and you pushed your energy in too, healing, binding, connecting. And you knew it would be ok, you would be there to help him, to help fix what’s broken.

For a little while things were good again, Sam woke up not remembering the year of being soulless. Dean had refused to tell him but as always the truth outed, and Sam was left feeling guilt ridden, sad and for weeks now he could barely look at you.

You walked into your kitchen where Sam was sat staring aimlessly into his beer bottle, worry lines creasing in his forehead.

“Sam” you signed, walking over to stand beside him. Rubbing your hands over his shoulders you continued, “Hey look at me” you gently caressed his chin before bringing his face up to meet yours. “ you have to stop blaming yourself, you weren’t you and Dean and I forgave you the second you were you again, I don’t blame you for this ok!” You said sternly. “You can’t keep pushing me out ok? That’s what’s killing me here, not what you did last year” he looked up at you eyes laced with tears, “But everything I’ve done to you, Dean and your dad! I tried to kill him y/n I can’t just get past that!” He cries. “He has Sam, he’s passed it. No one blames you ok, it’s done and we can’t change it, but we can all move forward, don’t push away everyone who loves you, you need us and we need you! I need you…..” you reply desperation in your voice, tears slowly trailing down your cheeks. That seems to do it, he pulls you into his lap, his face in your neck and arms securely around your waist, hugging you close to him, and he lets it all out, you both do.

Dean silently stands against the doorframe small smile on his lips, while he watches you and his little brother cry it out, holding each other close. “Hopefully things can only go up from here” he thinks.

“I’ll be there for you Sam, that’s what a soulmate does, your stuck with me whether you like it or not Winchester” you smirk. Sam looks at you, brows pulled together small smile on his lips, before he pulls you in for the softest kiss, conveying all the love he feels for you. Once you part he whispers “I wouldn’t have it any other way, I love you”

“I love you too Sammy, always”

[pininghermit]

Come Find Me (Role Swap AU)

Request: Consider a roleswap with human Adrian. Perhaps some potion gone wrong, a spellbound book that was opened up in Lisa’s library or simply it was Trevor’s fault somehow and now we’re in this mess!...

Genre: Romance

AN: I did not want to cut any part of your request but not me taking extensive notes with this. Predator and prey you say....I am very very intrigued!

Summary: Adrian POV~~

Chapter 1| Chapter 2|

Most people meet the love of their lives in a glorious festival, a chance encounter, or through the connection of souls. But I met you through our bodies, in a way far more unconventional than a fleeting one-night rendezvous.

During those days, sleep was a rare treasure, a fleeting escape from the relentless torment of haunting memories. Visions of my father's blood and my mother's accusing eyes never left my thoughts, leaving me sleepless and restless. But on that particular night, something extraordinary happened, something that defied explanation.

Perhaps it was the mercy of the wine—countless bottles emptied throughout an entire evening of labor—that finally granted my weary soul a brief respite. As the wine's effects coursed through me, my eyelids grew heavy, and I surrendered to the weariness that had gnawed at me for so long.

I laid there, the world around me fading into obscurity as if I were floating on ethereal clouds. It was a night unlike any other; there were no dreams to plague my thoughts, no accusing glares, and no manifestations of trauma. It was as if, for that fleeting moment, the universe had granted me peace.

At first, I didn't quite grasp the significance of the change in my surroundings. The familiar, unforgiving wooden planks of the wine cellar had vanished, as had the nauseating stench of my own despair. Instead, my senses were enveloped by the softness of silks that cradled my body and the delicate fragrance of sandalwood that lingered in the air.

I shifted in my newfound comfort, my fingers curling around the nearest pillow. It was an act of instinct, an unconscious response to the sensation of ease that washed over me.

In that moment, it was as though the weight of the past had ceased to exist.

Golden rays of the Sun, warm and inviting, peeked through flowing linen curtains, casting a soft, honeyed glow that danced on the polished wooden floor. Adrian's senses swam in confusion as he sprang up from his unfamiliar surroundings, disoriented and uncertain. The sheets beneath him were like a canvas, smooth and pristine, their texture foreign and unsettling. Like a tightly drawn bowstring, he catapulted himself out of the bed, the sensation of unfamiliar fabric clinging to his skin, a sensation that sent shivers racing down his spine.

Outside the room, the world seemed alive. The muted hum of activity and the faint rustle of leaves reached his ears, their source hidden beyond the massive wooden doors that loomed like sentinels. Adrian's heart raced as he scanned the room, his searching gaze finding no sign of another presence, yet he felt the undeniable presence of someone lurking in the shadows, just out of sight.

His footsteps, as hesitant as his racing thoughts, brought him no answers as he circled the room. The ambiance was surreal, flooded with the cheerful Sun's rays, which bathed everything in their golden embrace. An ornate chandelier, its crystals glittering like a thousand stars, swayed gently from the high arching ceiling, refracting the light into prismatic rainbows that danced playfully on the walls. A tinkling windchime, suspended by an open window, sang a soft serenade, its melody both haunting and enchanting.

Adrian was drawn to the window like a moth to a flame, cautiously approaching the possibility of escape or entrapment. Behind the veil of curtains, he peered out into the unknown, eyes darting, senses on high alert. The room's centerpiece, the open balcony, beckoned with the allure of a hidden world. Beyond it lay a tranquil pool adorned with floating lotus blossoms, their petals glistening like jewels in the sunlight. A swing swayed gently in the breeze, its motion a silent invitation to an unknown adventure.

His senses tingled with anticipation, and then, a sudden, almost imperceptible movement caught his attention. Adrian's head snapped toward the source, and there, among the curtain's folds, a figure emerged. Long, flowing hair framed a crouched figure, and wide, sparkling eyes met his in shared astonishment. It was his captor, but not as he expected—a mere human, a seemingly fragile woman who stood before him.

Adrian's gaze, locked in a moment of disbelief, soon shifted to one of anger. How could this seemingly delicate figure have imprisoned him in such a bewildering situation? His scowl mirrored hers, both displaying confusion and a sense of injustice.

With trembling knees and hands that moved on instinct, Adrian edged closer to the window, drawn by a sense of urgency and curiosity. There, in the reflection cast by the full-length mirror, he saw himself—a body that did not belong to him, draped in a gown that whispered with every step.

It was his own reflection, but the face that stared back at him was that of the woman who had seemingly ensnared him in this bewildering puzzle. Adrian's eyes widened in shock as he beheld himself, not as he was, but as the captor.

"Princess y/n!" Fervent knocks on the door broke Adrian's reverie. Each knock resonated through the room like a heavy, foreboding drumbeat. "Please open the doors. It's been days; his majesty is immensely worried for you," an unknown voice continued pleading, its tone laden with concern and urgency.

Adrian had never heard of her name, and the gleaming halls, ventilated rooms that shimmered with opulent light, felt like stepping into a dream world. The walls glistened with the soft glow of polished marble, and the air was imbued with the delicate fragrance of fresh-cut flowers. It was a stark contrast to the grim forests and dreary castles he had known.

What had been her story? What had driven her to leave this place? Was it a deliberate choice or a twist of fate? Adrian's senses absorbed the surroundings, noting the intricate tapestries adorning the walls and the ornate furnishings that spoke of wealth beyond imagination.

"His majesty has promised that whoever would be chosen to marry you would not be selected without your approval. He wants you to know that, princess," unaffected by the maid's ramble Adrian remained seated in front of the mirror, taking in her appearance. The room was bathed in a soft, golden light that accentuated every detail of the luxurious surroundings.

Not a single scratch or evidence of struggle marred her appearance. Her hands, delicate as porcelain, felt softer than the finest silk, and they moved with grace and poise. Her servants attended to her with meticulous care, their gentle touch and the scent of fragrant oils adding to the surreal experience. Adrian couldn't help but marvel at the opulence surrounding him, a world far removed from his own.

"Marriage?" Adrian was surprised to find her voice so firm and clear. It was unlike what he had expected. It was not a soft nothing like the mildly annoying coy voice he had associated with a spoiled princess. Maybe it was his way of speaking, but Adrian tried his best to blend into what Princess y/n would have been like.

The maid, Aeia, whose name Adrian now knew, looked startled before continuing. "I know it is not your will to wed so soon, but his majesty, your brother, must abide by the laws of the kingdom. He has invited men from across the world to choose the one most worthy of you." Adrian tried to smile, but despite his efforts, the eyes of Princess y/n refused to accept joy.

They stared back at him accusingly from the mirror. Looking away from the glaring image in the mirror, Adrian tried to dispel the uneasiness that had gathered in his heart.

What right did she have to complain about this life? It was so much better than any other's. Better than his wretched life, better than millions of orphans, better than cursed night creatures.

She was born into riches without a single pain or struggle. Yet, what made her eyes so sad? What made her miserable in a life that so many would have craved to possess? The opulence and luxury that surrounded her couldn't mask the shadows that haunted her eyes, and Adrian couldn't help but wonder what made you miserable in a life that he craved to possess?

[technovillain]

I think you should go off about the autistic transmascness of raz, sasha, and otto. Right now. Forever if you are so inclined

.....maybe I will....... (i gathered my thoughts on ye olde psychonauts fic ideas google doc lol)

I tried to make some of it make a little bit of sense with the vaguely established time periods they have lol. In terms of awareness of trans identities and stuff....but I'm not playing the self-hatred stuff, just the lack of understanding of how that works based on general public social understanding of what I imagine the Psychonauts universe to be like....plus I imagine that like Psychics can sort of tell when people are related (in canon) a lot of them just also sort of have this understanding (even if highly vague) of gender difference from the very start when they are trans.... at least a lot of them do, specifically these three I'm headcanoning. And final warning. This is VERY VERY long. Like so very long. But I will share it since you egged me on :]

I will put it under the cut for length reasons. In case Tumblr glitches and tries to show the whole thang ding to people.

Otto: afab, questionable relationship with his parents. Outright always refused femininity boldly and outwardly. Pretended to be a boy all the time, strangers sometimes believed it when he was a kid. His parents tried to make him be more feminine on many occasions, and he always fought against it. After a while, they got busier and became less involved parents. At this point they gave up on making their daughter look presentable. They had written him off as past fixing as far as a female reputation went. They just told him sort of that he was up to his own devices if he was going to act like that forever. They’d be there if he wanted some help getting his act together, but otherwise he had to fend for himself. Got older and assumed he was some sort of lesbian or something. Just vaguely identified as some sort of butch lesbian identity, but a lot of people called him ‘he’ all the time and he wasn’t sure if he connected with womanhood or lesbian identities at all really. He eventually read as so masc that a lot of people assumed he was a guy anyways. And he liked that but never put a name to it because he didn’t really know about trans people. Had some sort of shroom(psitanium? dunno. something. they did psychic hippie drugs together.)-induced gender awakening with Ford one day when they were younger, before all the Psychonauts stuff. His eyes were finally randomly opened and he changed his whole outlook on his psychic abilities and gender. Decided to actually socially and medically transition after this.

Sasha: afab, gender presentation change brought on when he had to be raised by his father. Lars Nein was so disconnected from femininity that he had no clue what to do with a daughter. So he made Sasha work with him in the shop and gave him the same haircut that he gave himself for utilitarian reasons. Sasha accepted this, long hair bothered him for sensory reasons. After a few instances of Sasha having psychic encounters with reading the minds of strangers, Lars was accepting of the psychic identity but immediately knew that it would set Sasha apart from his peers even more than he already was. Sasha started wearing tinted glasses when he was around this age. It was good for his light sensitivity and also good for Lars’ store customers, many of whom claimed to be disturbed by his tendency to stare right into people's souls. Lars felt feelings of guilt over not being able to be a good father to a daughter quite often. He would not talk to Sasha about this, though, and it was another thing that Sasha had to feel guilty about when he read Lars’ mind.

When he left home, he kind of didn’t know what to do with his presentation. He was no longer under his father’s care, so he could do whatever he wanted, technically. But being so very Sasha Nein, he just kept the same look. He didn’t have to think about it if he just kept it all the same. He never let his hair get long, he never wore feminine fashion. He ditched the androgynous childlike overalls and just moved on to men’s clothes. He probably kept a few pairs of womens clothes just in case. But probably could never get himself to wear them for some reason. He’d sooner skip out on whatever event would require them anyways and convince himself that he had better things to be doing than something frivolous. Besides, men’s clothes were just more practical for the type of odd job work he was doing. He just assumed that there was something really wrong with him because of what his childhood had been like, like the absence of a mother had messed him up somehow. [This man had a heavy Freud fan phase, sorry. It definitively shaped him and it is obvious lol.] I can see him just not understanding this aspect of himself at all for a long time. Spending a long period of his life “correcting” people to let them know that he was in fact a woman by birth. He just felt some sort of obligation to always “eliminate social falsehoods to avoid later conflict” and figured that was the right thing to do. He didn’t allow himself to engage in gender euphoria at the expense of others’ “mistakes” the same way that had been so formative for Otto. By doing this, he unknowingly held back his own confidence and self-understanding for years. As he shadowed all sorts of assorted jobs, he eventually found himself pursuing something regarding his burgeoning psychic powers, working under Otto. Otto was quick to question exactly what Sasha “was”, because he felt that there were some obvious connections to his own childhood. I mean, you don’t just find trans people often back then. (Except you do when you are psychic. This is part of the deal. More psychics are LGBTQ+ and they tend to find one another easier. This almost feels canon to me...dunno) Sasha had always been the master of repressing his feelings, and Otto was basically like “Hmm okay. Smoke this weed or something. Think about your gender. I implore you. I am going into your little square head and we are going to figure this out, alright?” And Sasha was nervous working under him at first because he had no clue the job was going to become about himself. Sasha preferred not to think about himself at this point in his life, only to think about the work and research he was doing. At least the research was really interesting at Psychonauts HQ. But Otto easily made him feel on edge. All this introspective stuff was difficult for him. But Otto sharing his stories and feelings about transgenderism and aromanticism helped him significantly.

Otto was able to describe things like this in such a fundamental way that made them seem like irrefutable scientific fact. And Sasha started to understand and believe it. And he started to internalize it. And this internalization led to acceptance. And for the first time ever, Sasha loved himself. Otto offered him his home-grown hormones he had been taking and gave him a lot of general guidance. Sasha started to feel a real sense of brotherhood, of guidance and understanding. He had never worked under someone and not felt lesser than them before. This was different, this was personal and special. Sasha finally had a real friend. Also he was totally a man. Wow.

Raz: afab, but given a gender nonconforming name due to Aquato traditions. Grew up feeling fine "being a girl" for a while. It was more like he was fine with being a sister, because his relationship with his siblings was good, especially with Frazie. He was okay with having a label like sister or daughter because it was defining his life through his loving connections with other people and that was very real and accurate to him, he didn't even think about the female part (this is me projecting. cough). Raz's experiences with gender are very much tied to his psychic powers. He was never as close to Dion as he was to Frazie. Frazie also had a "boy's name" and Raz always figured that the whole name thing was why he felt the way he did about boy stuff. After Frazie reached a certain age, though, it became clear that their feelings were not the same. She didn't want to share psychic things with him anymore, and she didn't want to be called a boy name anymore. Raz could not understand this at all. Frazie felt like these were things that for her own identity to evolve properly, she would have to drop, and deep down she had always known that. But Raz doesn't feel that way at all, in fact he has always known that the boy name and the psychic business was more him than anything else possibly could be... Raz takes great joy in “pretending” he is a boy, pretending he is a famous psychic...he gets his first cases of gender envy and gender euphoria from magazines of Sasha Nein. Shapes his whole new identity on him because of it.

He comes out to Frazie. Frazie is understanding because she is a psychic and she can sort of secondhand feel what he is feeling and believe it despite social influence that would lead her to not understand what being trans is like. After coming out to Frazie, they decide to start acting like they're playing a game again, just not psychic stuff this time. Frazie makes it clear that they can’t do that anymore. Raz takes on a silly persona oftentimes, and the two act like they're playing a game where Raz is an action hero man. So she gets to keep treating him like a boy all the time. Augustus and Donatella become suspicious when the so-called "game" seems to be taken too seriously, in that everything Raz does seems to be to the end of not being seen as a girl anymore.

Now this is the 80s, but Dona is also from a long history of showbiz. I like to think that Dona had a brother who was exceedingly fruity and on occasions other than performance, gender nonconforming. Meaning that she had been forced to think of the idea of gender fluidity before. Which is part of the reason for her gender nonspecific naming of her children in the first place. Augustus cares very deeply about Raz here and wants to make sure he is faring well with the others. So I think Raz is confronted by Augustus and reluctantly comes out to him when asked if the whole "pretending to be a boy thing" had grown more serious than just some sort of game. Gus was extremely welcoming to the idea, even if he couldn't completely understand it, he was hit with this sudden pang of intense empathy [it's the psychic thing again]. Donatella finds out the result of the conversation thru Gus afterwards. Dona encourages Dion to give Raz his old circus clothes and a few other old things they were holding onto just in case. Dion does not get what is happening. Over time the whole family gets it and they decide it is for the best. Raz has been performing better and has been so much more happy since this development. The only concerning part at this point was his increasing interest in psychics...

Yada Yada the events of PN1 happen. Lili is his first real crush. He never thought a girl would like him back and is honestly thrilled at the development of getting to have a girlfriend like a real boy would. He decides to keep his transness to himself when it comes to Lili. He doesn’t want to feel like an imposter. When Raz gets to meet Sasha, he does everything in his power to make Sasha think that he is the number one coolest boy in the world. Sasha really sees himself in Raz for reasons he can't quite put his finger on...I mean it's not like he acted anything like that at his age. [It's the transness and the 'tism] When Sasha finds out that Raz is trans, he suddenly realizes what it felt like to be Otto all those years ago when he began his mentorship. Raz is scared and embarrassed that Sasha will tell on him but instead receives a cool and collected "It's okay, I used to be [a girl] as well." And Raz is absolutely mind-blown. He can't believe it. The two have a talk about their experiences that is like a much more dry version of he and Otto's past discussion. He doesn't mention that Otto is too, or Milla. The general standard in this universe is that people just don't talk much about being trans publicly. You just have to learn to accept it and adjust. Some of the 80s taboo has to creep in there and make people at least not used to talking about it openly, even if not out of shame.

When Raz finds out about the hormones situation and how it is in fact not illegal drugs fueling an addiction (lol) he goes to Otto like "hang on who all here is like that!! Like me and Sasha?" And Otto is like "oo-hoo doctor-patient confidentiality!" And Raz is like "Please, I just don't want to feel alone!" And now Otto knows that Raz is trans too and he is very happy about this information because to him,  Raz is like the perfect blend between a young version of himself and a young Sasha. And Otto knows he isn't going to use this information for bad so he tells him that it is himself, Sasha, Milla, Norma, and now Raz.

GIANT THUMBS UP. I broke Tumblr a couple times trying to post this.🏳️‍⚧️

[dannythedanman]

A Little Hazey

Fandom: Wings of Fire

Words: 909

Characters: Original Female Character, Original Male Character

Relationships: Original Male Character & Original Female Character

CWs: Implied parent loss, implied infant death, mentions of infertility

Summary: A heartwarming story of how Rhodinite adopted Haze <3

A/N: If you are not prepared to wanna rip your heart out, don't read. If I felt this way while writing this, I don't wanna know what it's like to read it. (Yeah btw this story ain't beta read). Got inspired to male this after my #redkitespeeddate entry!!

CRACK!

Just then, the IceWing hatchling suddenly gained consciousness with a sudden jolt. His eyes snapped open and looked from side to side.

He had landed in a particularly thick bush, his eggshell spread across the branches with bits of it still sticking to his gooey self.

Although he was scared out of his mind, he stayed put. He didn't know why, but his primal instincts told him to, so he listened.

He listened to the sounds of grief-stricken roaring. To the sounds of wingbeats. To the sound of a hole being dug and the loud thump that came after it.

When silence finally settled over the land, it all set in.

The little hatchling was hungry, scared, and confused. He wasn't sure what was going on. All he knew was that he wanted his mama.

--●--

Rhodinite hummed happily as she plucked the wild blackberries from the prickly bush. With each pick, she tossed them into her claw made wicker basket.

This was one of the pink SkyWings' favorite pasttimes, it had always cheered her up when she got sad.

She fidgeted with her makeshift metal horn wrap as she scanned the bushes for more blackberries.

Just then, she heard a whail. The shrill sound plunged deep into her soul and immediately activated her fight or flight response.

She whipped her head around and barred her sharp teeth, scanning for any potential threats, but she found nothing.

The sound drilled on, peircing her eardrums. She stumbled forward, trying to locate the sounds origin. Its pained cries tortured her heart.

The search led her to a patch of shrubbery that surrounded a relatively tall mountain.

She peered into each bush until she had finally found the maker of the noise.

It was a tiny IceWing hatchling.

The sight shocked Rhodinite. She immediately scooped him up into her arms. Despite all the confusion, her motherly instincts took over, and she began to coo the crying infant.

"You're so young...where's your mama, honey?" She paced around the area as the hatchling began to cease its crying.

The hatching had begun to suck on her talons when she encountered a long path of dirt with a sign above it.

"  Snowflake and Her Daughter  "

        "  May They Rest Well  "

Rhodinite looked down pitifully at the small dragon. His ribs stuck out from his chest as he mindlessly continued to nibble at her.

"Poor baby..." She mumbled to herself.

She knew what she had to do.

--●--

Rhodinite had put the dragonet in the basket she way carrying the blackberries in when she flew back to her hut. When she had gone to pick the dragonet out of the basket, all that was left of the blackberries was a blue smear across his face.

She didn't mind, though. She had fallen in maternal love with him the moment she saw him.

Rhodinite had known from a very young age that she was incapable of having dragonets of her own. Although she pretended this fact didn't bother her, it was a constant dull pain in her heart.

She had planned to adopt a hatchling once she met her special someone, but she guessed the universe had other plans with this little fella!

When they arrived at home, Rhodinite immediately bathed him, much to his dismay. Nevertheless, it seems like he forgave her after it was all said and done.

After his bath, he toddled around the living room. Rhodinite took in his appearance. More specifically, how...unique he looked.

For the most part, he had the standard white and grey coat you'd expect an IceWing to have. But the strange thing was the amount of purple he had.

She knew that it wasn't uncommon for IceWings to have some purple in their gene pool, but the top of his body was a light purple with his wings being the darkest shade of purple she had ever seen on an IceWing!

The again, she hadn't seen many IceWings in her 30 years of life, so maybe this was normal?... it couldn't be.

It wasn't until she had hit a roadblock in her internal dialog that she realized the baby hadn't been given a name! This thought struck her body with paranoia. How could she name an IceWing when she was a SkyWing!?

She scooped up the currently unnamed hatchling as she wracked her brain for name ideas. He giggled as he leaned into her embrace.

"What about Zero? Like Sub-Zero? Would that be cool?" She murmured half to herself and half to "Zero."

Before she could even consider his response, she scrapped the name idea. "Too edgy."

She tapped her foreclaws on the wooden sidetable as she looked out her window.

The sun had begun to set, cascading an array of pinks, purples, and golds across the sky. She squinted her eyes at the setting sun, feeling bits of inspiration come forth through it.

She wanted his name to include a hint of SkyWing in there to show his new mother being a SkyWing, but didn't want to stray too far.

The baby cawed in her grasp as he noticed the new colors of the sky. Rhodinite let out a short nose laugh as her heart was filled with joy.

This moment was perfect. Her son was perfect. She wanted to give him a name that would make her think of this perfect moment every time she heard it.

The perfect name entered her brain.

"Haze..."

[overx]

have i heard about the different demon classifications and their purposes/abilities in Soul-Bound before? yes. do i want to hear them again? yes. uvu

[[Hi I love you <3

SO short version for this first part before I get to the meat of this ask.

What is a demon in the Soul Bound universe?

The only TRUE demons in SB come from the Inferno-- otherwise known as Death's Domain. These are the demons we categorize by the seven deadly sins, and also interchangeably call "Infernals".

While other creatures may be called "demons" colloquially-- like your sleep paralysis demon-- they are not true demons in SB. If it doesn't come from Death's plane of existence? Not a true demon.

Okay, what do Infernals or "true demons" look like? Can you tell anything by looking at them?

Yes and no. There is no "standard" for what demons in SB have to look like. It's sort of our way of saying all cultural depictions could be valid, rather than discounting anything. We wanted to be able to pull from a variety of folklore and mythology for their appearances, and not limit ourselves in character design either. They could be anything from satyr inspired goat legged demons, to dragon like ones, to oni, visually.

On top of that, they can easily change their appearances if desired. Demons hold the distinction of being able to physically transform themselves. Instead of just cloaking their features like more common magical entities, they take the complicated route of true shapeshifting.

This means even having the right level of sight only kind of helps in unmasking a hidden demon on the mortal plane. The real way to know you have a demon on your hands is something that can't really be seen but felt, and it's hard to notice without prior experience. They tend to have a big presence in a room, even if the vibe varies by type. AKA it isn't always an intimidating aura, it could also be charismatic for example.

What do the demon 'types' mean? The whole seven deadly sins thing?

Right! So the 'sin' type a demon has is both true and untrue at the same time. In short, every demon actually embodies every sin simultaneously. Yet at the same time, they're classed by their "main" sin, if that makes sense? The main sin has no bearing on the type of magic a demon can use though.

Basically, each one has an "order of sins" which can be used to get a general sense of a demon's temperament, preferred contracts, etc. It can also in some cases be a quick indicator of where someone is in the social hierarchy of the inferno if they haven't made a name for themselves. A demon might have high pride but very low greed for example.

Demons ironically sometimes use this like a horoscope with each other. They might avoid socializing with demon types they find rub them the wrong way.

Here's a quick rundown of general demon traits and how they perceive each other written like a horoscope column cause it sounded fun.

Sloth - The most laid back of all demon's personality wise. They move towards their goals at a slower and more casual rate. Sloth demons are strongly associated with knowledge. This means they're great problem solvers when they do act. They're often very powerful magically as a result of all their time spent casually learning and absorbing the world around them. Sloth demons don't mind being out of the limelight and often prefer if someone else is the star of the show. Sometimes seen as cowardly by other demons, usually the reason a Sloth demon isn't acting is because they simply don't care to. They fail miserably at meeting deadlines set by anyone else, which leaves many of their less patient peers unsatisfied.

Gluttony - Often seen as closely related to Greed demons, Gluttony demons really DO have a big appetite. It isn't always for food however. Gluttony demons crave experiences. They are excessively self indulgent. Sometimes seen as adrenaline junkies, there is nothing they want more than to create new memories. They are very high energy demons compared to their peers, which comes with some pros and cons. They have a strong drive to explore and try new things which can be both thrilling and overwhelming. They are often seen as gung-ho and unpredictable. They truly believe that variety is the spice of life, and are great at helping others learn more about themselves... if you can keep up with them.

Lust - Most people think Lust demons are all about physical relationships, and while that can be true, it's not everything about them. Lust demons actually care the most about companionship. Intimacy doesn't have to be sexual, though for many of them that is a perk. Their most common contracts with mortals are actually about fixing loneliness in some way at their core. Lust demons have an innate ability to read other beings emotions and understand them in ways other more self serving demons cannot. They have an easy time being everyone's friend and creating connections without really trying. They rarely have to do any work other than be themselves to meet their goals. Unfortunately for this reason they can also be viewed as disingenuous by some of their peers.

Envy - An Envy demon will either be your biggest cheerleader or your biggest rival. There is no in between. A good relationship with an Envy demon has them doing everything in their power to build you up so YOU don't feel envious. A bad relationship means you have a horrible little hater on your hands who will sabotage you at every turn. Envy demons crave attention and praise and can turn into full blown FOMO freaks if they aren't getting it. Easily the most addicted to social media, drama, and spilling tea. Their major strength is in the social information trade. They know everyone's secrets and are willing to be underhanded to meet their goals or yours.

Greed - Unsurprisingly, Greed demons are avid collectors at heart. Some of them flaunt their hoard, while others are quite secretive. They have a bad habit of accumulating useless items that don't always even interest them -- sometimes just to keep them out of the hands of others. Greed demons cannot resist a "last one" sign at a sale, even when it's for an item they don't want. Although not all collections are purely physical, and most demons of this type are quite organized. Their strength is that they are by far the hardest workers in the Inferno. The only way to increase your hoard is to work for it, and on that front a true greed demon has more drive than any of their peers.

Pride - Pride demons are charismatic at their core, and easy to admire. They prize success, but already know they're the best. Pride demons are steadfast, and never abandon their goals or contracts. A stable Pride demon is the picture of calm confidence, and lets every obstacle roll off of them. A Pride demon in turmoil however, often has their ego wounded, and will lash out at others for the smallest slight. Pride demons make everything look easy, which is the main reason their peers dislike them.

Wrath - There are currently only two wrath demons in existence which makes them hard to classify. They are by far the most powerful of all their peers, and unless you have business with them THEY have business with you, it's generally recommended to avoid them. Demons with wrath as a secondary trait are more common-- and are often vindictive, and vengeful. These Infernals will not let slights go unpunished, though their methods may vary. Staying on their good side is a must if you want to have a close relationship.

[primordialfell]

He digs a pincer out from the sand, massaging his hands over the absolutely colossal appendage to wake them up.

you've been quiet.

I don't see the point in tormenting you.

that's a lie.

I can't lie.

that is also a lie.

Believe whatever you've gaslit yourself into believing, worm guy. I have no interest in entertaining your hysterical delusion.

then why won't you give me a straight answer. what did you do to me?

Nothing, oh my me. Unlike some of us, I still respect the rules of the game. I haven't even gotten there yet.

you have no idea where i am.

Tell me, which would make you feel worse; knowing I did do it, and knowing I can touch you at any time, or knowing that I didn't, and knowing there are things just as horrific as I in this universe?

you're bluffing.

You wish. Don't worry. I'll be by to delliver the proof faster than you can say 'oneirophagy.'

YOU WAKE UP.

It's not a pleasant sensation and lately it hasn't been for a very long time. You're drowsy inbetween waking and sleeping. Your head is full of spines and static and they all sort of buzz at one another in an angry sound that makes you sick. You're back again. You keep coming back no matter how much you hate it here.

You're so sick. You're so tired. You wish you could just pick one and stay with it. Nothing feels right anymore ever since the nightmare and you hate that you can't go back. You have lost so many things and they will never come back; god damn them for letting your peace be among them.

Tiny hands touch your shell. They would be rotted off were they not belonging to the man that has seen into your soul, to the man whose doom is interlinked with yours.

Tell me, Eternatus; when you look at him and see doom, is it his? Or do you see your own, reflected back through the mirror of his understanding? What a cruel thing he is, to force a mirror upon a beast without a face.

" O' WATCHFUL MINE, " It is all you say, for you are bereft of words despite being their incarnation. Finding the words is so hard these days. Being around anyone is so hard these days. You're getting by, sure, but it's not easy, and you wish you could look at anyone without feeling this gap between you and them, this invisible wall of plasticine that keeps you locked out forever.

But you have learned what becomes of those who drift to close. You have known the arms of another and you have felt blades digging into the part of your mind that wishes to know mortality. It is terrifying. And so you peer at him from atop your high castle of thought, as though you are another regent of articulation ready to writ out decree.

This cruelty isn't like you. It makes you hurt so badly. But you must force yourself to be cruel. You aren't going to get hurt again. You aren't going to let someone else be hurt because you could not be.

I don't want to [abandon you]. But I'm not going to be responsible for your pain, either. It's best if you forget about me. It's best if you all just forget about me. I just need to work up the guts to make my exit once and for all.

" COME YOU HAVE TO SEEK MY WISDOM? OR TO PARLEY WITH THOUGHTS AND BLADES LIKE THE ONES WHO WALKED PAST US BEFORE? "

[the-unending-journey]

I wanna ramble a little about Kiyo's Azem. Gonna put it under a readmore just in case

So first and foremost, her Azem's true name was Panacea. I named her after the Greek goddess of universal remedy, because I try to keep with the fact that Kiyo herself is a healer through and through

While Panacea was no stranger to creating concepts like her other Ancient peers, she mostly focused on the aspect of healing and medicine, and trying to find new and better ways to apply these things. She especially focused her energy on figuring out ways to help concepts in this manner, where others would generally just destroy and remake them. Panacea never liked that and honestly shared a love for these creatures much like Hermes did

Unlike Kiyo, Panacea was a very bright and jovial woman that had no qualms about socializing, and often brought a warm energy into whatever space she pushed herself into. It was hard to be sullen around her... well, unless you were Hades. She even managed to get Hermes to smile every so often, which she often made a point to try to get out of him anytime she visited Elpis

However, much like her shattered self, Panacea was also a kind and gentle soul and never really liked getting into conflicts if she could help it. Though, she never backed down from them either, especially if it meant saving others, and especially those that couldn't save themselves. She also had an insatiable wanderlust and loved exploring the star, collecting knowledge for her medicinal studies and meeting all the interesting inhabitants she came across. If you asked her to tell you stories of her travels, this woman would be more than happy to talk your ears off about them

While she loved books and the knowledge and stories they held, Panacea really preferred living these things and finding her own knowledge and tales out in the world. That's why she didn't hesitate to take up the seat of Azem when Venat offered it to her, though she still felt she could never really live up to her dear friend she looked up to and admired

The relationship between her and Hades was much like an exasperated older brother with a reckless and energetic younger sister. One time he made some snide comment about how Panacea only ever made "childish" (cute) concepts, like proto-karakuls and such, so she made proto-Morbols out of spite (but also because she wanted to try and make new medicines from these creatures... that didn't work out too well). He was actually the one that introduced her to Hythlodaeus, which he claims to have regretted since the two hit it off really well and ended getting married (bonded? idk... in my headcanon the ancients had a more archaic thing for marriage). He was secretly happy for both of his dear friends, even despite his headaches doubling from Panacea's antics and Hyth constantly encouraging them

When Kiyo was a very, VERY small child, she could see the little sliver of Panacea's soul that was still intact within her own. Kiyo's little kid brain chalked this up to simply being an imaginary friend that she often would speak to. When Ardbert's soul merged with hers, Panacea's presence actually became even stronger and Kiyo still does converse with her from time to time. It's truly an odd existence to speak to one's past life, but the Warrior of Light's life is definitely anything but normal

One last little bit - while physically they obviously look very different, Panacea and Kiyo share the same eye color. That's one of the other things that Hyth immediately recognized other than her soul's energy

[haideri98]

The Girl I Love: Chronicles of Endearing Affection

Chapter 1: Celestial Whispers

 In a quaint, picturesque town nestled amidst rolling hills and babbling brooks, there lived a girl named Sophia. Her presence had a certain magnetism, an aura that seemed to draw people towards her like moths to a flame. It wasn't just her physical beauty that captivated hearts; it was an intangible essence that set her apart from the rest. Sophia possessed an ethereal quality, as if she held a secret connection with the cosmos.

Sophia's deep-rooted fascination with the celestial world was no secret. From a young age, she found solace and enchantment in the vast expanse of the night sky. The moon, in all its radiant glory, was her greatest muse. Its silvery luminescence spoke to her soul, awakening a sense of wonder and awe that coursed through her veins.

Her love for the moon transcended the realm of mere admiration; it became an intrinsic part of her being. Sophia was a selenophile, a lover of the moon. Its gentle presence in the night sky stirred something profound within her, evoking a sense of peace and belonging. She felt as though the moon whispered secrets, its soft glow illuminating hidden corners of her heart.

Each evening, as the sun set and darkness enveloped the world, Sophia would find herself drawn to a cozy spot beneath the night sky. With eyes wide and heart open, she would gaze upward, drinking in the celestial tapestry that unfolded before her. The moon, with its ever-changing phases, held her captive. It was as if each phase represented a different facet of her own being—sometimes full and radiant, sometimes shrouded in a veil of mystery.

Sophia's connection with the moon went beyond mere observation; it seeped into every aspect of her life. In her artwork, she sought to capture the moon's luminous beauty, blending shades of silver and pearl to evoke its enchanting essence. She adorned her home with delicate lunar motifs, filling her surroundings with a sense of celestial harmony. And even in her dreams, the moon would weave its way into her subconscious, casting a gentle glow over her slumbering imagination.

As fate would have it, Sophia's profound connection with the moon found expression in her chosen profession. She became a teacher, sharing her knowledge and passion with eager minds. Her students were drawn to her like moths to a celestial flame, their curiosity ignited by her ethereal presence.

In the classroom, Sophia's teaching was akin to a moonbeam illuminating a dark night. Her words were gentle and soothing, like the whispered caress of a gentle breeze. She nurtured her students' imaginations, encouraging them to explore the wonders of the universe. Her lessons transcended textbooks, venturing into the realm of awe and wonder. Through her guidance, she sought to instill in her students the same reverence and love for the moon that had captivated her own heart.

The students looked up to Sophia, not just as a teacher, but as a guiding light in their lives. She possessed a rare ability to make them feel seen and understood, as if she could peer into the depths of their souls and uncover their hidden dreams. In her presence, they too felt the celestial whisper of the moon, their own connection to the ethereal realm.

For one student in particular, named Ethan, Sophia's impact went far beyond the bounds of the classroom. He found himself bewitched by her presence, his heart held captive by the luminous glow that seemed to radiate from her very being. Sophia became the moon to his night sky, lighting up his world with a brilliance he had never known.

Ethan, like Sophia, was drawn to the moon's mysterious allure. Together, they shared a connection that transcended words. In each other's company, they would often find themselves lost in a shared fantasy world, where reality blended seamlessly with the realms of dreams and imagination. Their conversations were punctuated by the soft music of their hearts, harmonizing with the celestial symphony of the moon.

As their bond deepened, Ethan couldn't help but be enraptured by Sophia's selenophile spirit. He found himself composing love poems in his mind, borrowing verses from the romantic poets who had penned odes to the moon. He recalled the words of John Keats, who wrote, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever," and felt those very sentiments echoing in his heart. For Sophia was indeed a thing of beauty, her connection with the moon a joy that resonated within him endlessly.

As the moon waxed and waned, so did Ethan's emotions. His crush on Sophia bloomed like a fragile flower, its petals unfurling under the moon's tender gaze. He yearned to express his affection, to gather the courage to confess his feelings to the girl who had become his celestial inspiration.

In the small town where Sophia's love affair with the moon had blossomed, their destinies were intertwined like constellations in the night sky. Their connection, nurtured beneath the gentle luminescence of the moon, held the promise of a love story as timeless as the stars themselves.

[bittybug-sunflower-blog]

Chapter summary: Jetto going undercover

Warning A: Mature themes and language, sex, drugs, abuse, blood, death, drinking, suicide attempt, gun and gang violence, and smoking

Word count: 3694

Rating 21+

Extra: alternate universe story

Chapter 22

In a dimly lit music room, the soft hum of a piano filled the air. Beka's fingers danced gracefully over the ivory keys, each note she played soothing the restless spirit of Omega, who sat nearby, her eyes closed, losing herself in the melody. Beka's voice was smooth as silk and laced with a touch of melancholy. It was a tune Omega had heard countless times, but that morning, it carried a weight that was hard to ignore, as if Beka's very soul was in every note.

Away from the comforting embrace of the music, Hunter found himself in an old, abandoned speakeasy that had long been forgotten by the rest of the world. But to Jetto, it was a sanctuary—a place where he could escape from the burdens that weighed heavily on his young shoulders.

Hunter slipped through the door. He found Jetto sitting at his usual spot, a cracked leather booth in the far corner, hidden from prying eyes. The sixteen-year-old looked up as Hunter approached, his dark eyes filled with a mix of defiance and a flicker of something much more fragile—fear.

"You wanted to see me, Hunter?" Jetto's voice was low, almost a whisper as if he was afraid that the walls themselves might betray him.

Hunter nodded, sliding into the booth across from Jetto. For a moment, he didn't speak, simply studied the boy. "I need your help," Hunter finally said, his voice carrying a weight that made Jetto shift uncomfortably. "You've got a way in with Death Watch that none of us have. You're young, and they underestimate you. That's why I need you on the inside."

Jetto's eyes widened slightly, and he leaned back, the leather of the booth creaking under the movement. "You're asking me to continue working with Death Watch?"

Hunter's expression softened, but his eyes remained hard, filled with the steely resolve of a man who had seen too much. "I'm asking you to help us bring down a group that's hurt more people than you can count. Including you."

Jetto clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he struggled with the choice that was being laid before him. "What happens if Beka finds out?" Jetto's voice cracked, the fear he'd been trying to hide seeping through.

"She won't," Hunter assured him, though the words felt like ash in his mouth. "I'll make sure of it."

They sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of the decision hanging heavy between them. Hunter knew he was asking too much of Jetto, asking him to cross a line that once crossed, there would be no going back from. But they were running out of options, and the clock was ticking.

Finally, Jetto nodded a single, sharp motion that was more resigned than anything. "Alright. I'll do it. But if this goes south, it's on you."

Hunter reached across the table, clasping Jetto's shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. "You're doing the right thing, kid. This is the only way to take them down." He then handed him a small white card, "Call if you have any info."

As Hunter stood to leave, he glanced back at Jetto one last time before slipping out, the cool air biting at his skin like the guilt gnawing at his conscience.

Some hours passed, and the final notes of Beka's song faded into the stillness. She turned to find Omega fast asleep, a peaceful smile on the young girl's face. Beka couldn't help but let out a silent chuckle as she stared at the young girl. Hunter walked by the music room, he peered inside and saw a sleeping Omega and a smiling Beka. Beka saw Hunter and put her finger to her lips to signal for him to be quiet. Hunter only smiled and made it back to his office.

In another part of the house, Tech's sharp eyes caught the subtle shift in Hunter's demeanor when he returned. There was something off about him, a tension in his frame that hadn't been there before.

"You had a meeting, didn't you?" Tech's voice was calm, but his gaze was piercing.

Hunter hesitated for only a fraction of a second before nodding. "We're out of options, Tech. We need an inside man, and Jetto's the best shot we've got."

Tech frowned, concern etched into his usually stoic features. "Beka won't take kindly to this. You're going behind her back."

Hunter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. But it's the only way."

Tech said nothing more, but the look he gave Hunter spoke volumes. They knew they were treading dangerous waters, and one wrong move could drown them all.

In the stillness of the day, as Beka sang lullabies and Jetto wrestled with his conscience, the first seeds of betrayal were sown, and the night of secrets began.

The rain fell in relentless sheets outside the dimly lit club. The shadows seemed to have a life of their own, wrapping around the patrons like a cloak of secrecy. Inside, the bass from the music thrummed through the walls with a mixture of laughter, hushed conversations, and the occasional clink of glasses.

Echo walked through the haze of cigarette smoke, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on a familiar figure standing by the bar. Valree stood tall and imposing. He approached slowly, not wanting to disturb the delicate balance that Valree maintained in this underworld den. When he finally reached the bar, Valree looked up, a flicker of recognition in their eyes as they met Echo's.

"Marauder," Valree greeted, their voice low and rough.

"Brights," Echo nodded, taking a seat at the bar beside them. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to broach the subject that had been on his mind ever since he'd started working alongside Beka. Finally, he took a deep breath and asked, "How did you get into this life? How did you end up... in the belly of the beast?"

Valree was quiet for a moment, their gaze drifting to the glass of whiskey in their hand. They swirled the amber liquid slowly, lost in thought. When they finally spoke, their voice was so soft it barely rose above the hum of the club. "It wasn't always like this," Valree began, their tone distant, as if they were looking back at a different time, a different life. "You know, my family and I grew up in a traveling circus. Preigo's Traveling World of Wonders. Mama, Papa, my little sister Runa, and the circus was my family—the only family I had."

Valree thought back to the circus. The scent of sawdust and sweet popcorn, the laughter of the crowds, and the thrill of the performances. The performers were a tight-knit family, each act as important as the next, from the high-flying trapeze artists to the clowns who could coax a smile from the grumpiest of patrons. Valree was just a teenager then. Their daring skills as a knife thrower had earned them and their family a place in the spotlight.

But that sense of security began to unravel when they arrived in the town of Wasskah. The local thugs came with demands—protection money, they called it. The circus was already struggling to make ends meet, and there was no money to spare. The ringmaster, a gruff but kind man, refused to pay.

"Get out of here!" He yelled at the thugs, he threw a punch at one of them causing a black eye.

Valree was nearby and watched the exchange.

"You'll regret that buddy." The thug threatened clutching his eye. His friends helped him up and began walking away snubbing Valree, "Out of the way brat."

"Mr. Preigo, are you okay?" Valree asked walking to the man.

"Yes Val, they just trying to extort money. For protection they claim." Preigo explained.

"Maybe we could use them for protection?" Valree suggested.

"We take care of our own," Preigo said, his voice firm but gentle. "We don't need their kind of protection."

Valree had admired his bravery, but deep down, a seed of fear had been planted. The thugs didn't like being refused, and there was something in their eyes that promised trouble. And trouble came.

One night, as the circus was settling down after a successful performance, the sky lit up with flames. The tents—those beloved, colorful tents—were engulfed in fire, the heat so intense it felt like the sun had come down to earth. The screams of the performers echoed through the night, mixing with the crackling of the flames and the shouts of the attackers.

Valree had barely made it out. "Mama! Papa! Runa! Mr. Preigo!" they screamed, their voice raw with desperation. The heat was unbearable, the air thick with smoke and ash. They could see their loved ones, and their family, trying to rush back into the tents, but the inferno was relentless, pushing them back with a wall of searing heat. The ringmaster, the clowns, the acrobats—everyone they had ever loved—were trapped inside. The flames danced wickedly, consuming everything in their path, leaving nothing but ash and charred remains where vibrant life had once thrived.

Valree was one of the few who survived, but survival felt like a curse. The circus, their family, was gone, and with it, any sense of safety or belonging. The world had turned dark and cold, and there was no one left to protect them. That very night, as the embers of their former life still smoldered, Valree was taken—dragged into a world of darkness and despair. There had been barely any time to grieve. One moment, the world was ablaze with fire, and the next, everything went black.

When Valree could see again, their heart plummeted. The same thugs who had come days earlier now loomed over them in a menacing huddle. Fear surged through them, but when they tried to move, they realized their hands were bound tightly to the floor.

"Whatcha think, boss?" sneered one of the thugs, a man with a black eye, his grin twisted with malice. He grabbed Valree's chin, forcing their face up, but they recoiled instinctively, trying to pull away. The thug's grin faded into a snarl, and he slapped Valree hard with the back of his hand. "Little bitch!" he spat. Valree began to spit blood from her mouth.

The man who seemed to be in charge smirked coldly. "This one will make us a lot of money. But tame that spicy mouth of theirs."

"You got it, Garnac," the thug replied, his voice dripping with sinister delight.

"Drug them up!" Garnac ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"No!" Valree tried to scream, but their voice was cut off as a syringe was plunged into their veins. The world blurred around them, the faces of the thugs fading into a fog as the drug took hold. The last thing Valree felt before the darkness claimed them again was a cold, overwhelming sense of dread.

For years, the thugs sold Valree around, pimped them out, and got them hooked on drugs. The drugs trapped them in a different kind of hell, one where their body was no longer their own, where they were just a tool to be used and discarded. The years passed in a blur of despair, but then, one day, Valree found themselves along with other poor souls in the City of Coruscant. Valree saw what looked to be a newbie in what others would call a prison.

The dimly lit room was suffocating, the air thick with the stench of sweat and despair. The thugs loomed over the group of captives. "Y'all be going out tonight," one of the thugs barked. "No money means no one eats."

Valree sat in the corner, their eyes scanning the room, trying to take in every detail. Beside them was a young woman, her face pale, her eyes hollowed by fear and exhaustion. Valree could see the hunger in her eyes, the desperation that clung to her like a shadow.

"You knew?" Valree asked quietly, glancing at the woman beside them. The woman didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the ground. Valree felt a pang of empathy—they had been there once. Reaching into their shirt, Valree pulled out a small piece of bread they had managed to hide earlier. It wasn't much, just a scrap, but in this place, it was everything. "Here," Valree said softly, offering the bread. "You need to eat."

The woman hesitated, her eyes flickering with suspicion, but the gnawing hunger won out. She took the bread and smiled weakly, her lips barely curving upward. "Thanks," she whispered, her voice fragile, like it could break at any moment.

"I'm Val," Valree introduced themselves, their voice gentle, trying to offer a shred of normalcy in this nightmare. "What's your name?"

"Ahsoka," the woman replied, her voice barely more than a breath as she took a small, cautious bite of the bread.

"How long have you been here?" Valree asked trying to make some distraction from the hell both were in.

"Three days now," Ahsoka murmured, her voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and fear. "What do you know about these guys?" She nodded slightly toward the thugs, her eyes filled with a desperate need for information.

Valree leaned in closer, their voice dropping to a whisper, "The Trandoshan Clan. They run this operation—kidnapping people, pimping them out, or burning down anything that stands between them and their money." Valree's eyes darted toward the group of thugs, their gaze locking onto one in particular. "That one is Garnac. He's in charge, and the one next to him is his son, Dar. They're the worst of the lot."

Ahsoka's expression changed, a spark of determination flickering in her eyes. "That's all the information I needed," she said with a faint, almost imperceptible smile that caught Valree off guard.

Before Valree could ask what, she meant, a deafening crash reverberated through the room, the sound of a door being kicked in. Panic erupted instantly. The captives scrambled to their feet, fear driving them into a frenzy as the room filled with the shouts of law enforcement.

"Hands in the air!" the first loud voice ordered.

"Coruscant police, hands up!" The voices were sharp and commanding.

"Freeze, police!" another officer shouted, the authority in his tone leaving no room for defiance.

"Show some hands!" a third voice bellowed, his words a mix of urgency and controlled panic as the officers flooded the room, their weapons drawn and eyes scanning every corner.

"Get down! Now!" an officer yelled at one of the thugs, who hesitated for a second too long before dropping to his knees, hands behind his head.

Valree's heart raced, their mind consumed by a singular thought—escape. Without thinking and fueled by fear and adrenaline, Valree crashed through a ground-floor window, shards of glass cutting into their skin as they hit the ground running.

"Wait!" Ahsoka's voice called out, but Valree didn't stop.

Just as Valree was about to collapse, they ran straight into someone, a solid presence that halted their frantic escape. "Easy there, it's okay," a gentle voice said, strong hands gripping their arms, steadying them.

"Let me go, bitch!" Valree screamed, their voice raw with panic as they tried to fight back. They kicked and squirmed, but their body was weak, drained from the trauma and fear. The person holding them didn't let go, but their grip wasn't painful, just firm. Valree's frantic eyes met the calm, steady gaze of the woman before them. She had a warm, reassuring smile that seemed out of place in this nightmare.

"I'm not here to hurt you," the woman said softly, her voice soothing, like a balm to Valree's frayed nerves. "I'm here to help you."

Valree's breath hitched, their fight draining away as they stared at the woman. "W-who are you?" they stuttered, their voice barely audible.

"My name is Detective Rebekath Hardt," she replied, her smile never wavering. "What's your name?"

For a moment, Valree was silent, their mind struggling to process the kindness in Beka's eyes, the softness in her voice. "V-Valree," they finally whispered, their voice trembling with a mix of fear and hope. "Let's get you to the medics so they can clean up those cuts." Beka smiled.

As the chaos began to settle, the flickering red and blue lights of police cars cast an eerie glow over the scene. The once lively carnival grounds were now a crime scene, with officers swarming the area, taking statements from the shaken victims while others assisted in getting them to safety. The air was thick with the remnants of smoke and the hum of chatter as the night's events slowly began to unravel in the aftermath.

"Well, Hardt, you were right on the money," an officer remarked with a smirk, brushing dust off his trench coat as he approached Beka.

"Thank you, Skywalker, though it was Tano going undercover that helped pinpoint where they were operating," Beka replied, her voice steady as she exchanged a look with the young man beside her. A proud smile tugged at her lips, but there was a weariness in her eyes.

"I interviewed some of the victims. Some aren't even from Coruscant," Ahsoka said, her voice tinged with concern as she scanned the faces of those huddled together, wrapped in blankets.

"I'm not surprised," came another voice, deep and commanding, he approached with two other officers trailing behind him.

"Sergeant Windu," Beka greeted him with a nod, a sign of respect between seasoned officers.

"I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. Especially you, Detective Hardt. Your idea of sending in an inside man was exactly what we needed to shut this ring down." Windu's tone was firm, but there was a glint of admiration in his eyes. "Sergeant Chewbacca will be taking over this case as it falls under Kashyyyk's city laws," he added, gesturing to the towering man standing beside him, his expression solemn.

Beka nodded in understanding, but her mind was elsewhere. "What about the survivors?" she asked, her gaze drifting to Valree, who was being treated for the cuts and bruises they had sustained during their escape. Their fragile figure looked even smaller under the harsh lights, their eyes vacant and hollow.

"We'll get them into witness protection," the other officer, Kenobi, spoke up, his voice calm and reassuring. "Seeing as some are just children, we'll reach find their families."

Beka sighed softly, the weight of the night's events pressing heavily on her shoulders. She excused herself from the group, her heart heavy as she approached Valree, who sat quietly, their hands trembling as a medic bandaged their wounds.

"Kenobi, you, Skywalker, and Tano, circle back with Secure and Unduli to finish up the statements," Windu ordered, turning to the three younger officers. "I need to talk to Commissioner Yoda about releasing a press statement."

The trio nodded, exchanging glances as they prepared to head back into the fray.

"You might make sergeant yet, Anakin," Kenobi smirked, clapping Skywalker on the shoulder.

"And you, Snips, you might just outrank rookie soon," Skywalker teased Ahsoka, his tone light despite the somber atmosphere.

"That's what I'm hoping, Skyguy," Ahsoka shot back with a grin, the brief banter offering a sliver of normalcy in the chaos.

Meanwhile, Beka knelt beside Valree, her voice soft and comforting. "They're going to put him behind bars," she said, her smile warm but tinged with the gravity of the situation.

Valree looked up at her, their voice small, almost childlike. "What's going to happen to me?" they asked, their eyes searching Beka's for some kind of reassurance.

Beka's gaze softened as she took in the scars marring Valree's arms, the marks of needles and abuse they had been forced to endure. "We're going to get you clean, and I'm going to help you," she promised, her voice filled with a gentle determination.

It was a promise Beka would keep. She saw something in Valree, something fragile yet resilient, something worth saving. Over the following weeks, she stayed by their side, guiding them through the painful process of recovery. She helped them piece their life back together, not just because it was her duty, but because she believed in them. For the first time in years, Valree felt like a person again, not just a broken shell.

Valree's voice softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness as they continued, "Beka didn't just see another victim; she saw a person, someone worth saving. And because of her, I got my life back."

Valree's eyes met Echo's, the intensity in them blazing with a fierce loyalty that was almost tangible. "I owe her my life, Echo. Everything I am today is because of her. That's why I do this—why I work here, why I keep my ear to the ground. I'm her inside man, and I'll do whatever it takes to help her bring down the criminals. Because no one should go through what I did. Not if I can stop it."

Echo was silent for a long moment, absorbing the weight of Valree's story. "You've been through hell and back, Brights," Echo finally said, his voice filled with quiet admiration.

Valree nodded, the corners of their mouth lifting in a small, grateful smile. "We all have our parts to play, Echo. This is mine. And as long as I'm breathing, I'll keep playing it."

"You should know we're moving forward with a plan," Echo said, his voice low and measured.

Valree raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of their drink. "I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"Oh no, you're going to just love it," Echo replied with a smirk, his tone dripping with irony.

Echo stood to leave, but before he turned away, he placed a hand on Valree's shoulder. It was a silent gesture, heavy with unspoken words of respect. As he stepped back into the night, a relentless torrent mirrored the storm brewing in his mind.

[essentiallyinfinite]

Micro-story Spell Cocktails or "Sometimes Why"

The idea is to tell a very short story with yourself/an avatar/fictional stand-in as the main character and to "spell it out" what the change you are "trying" to will into being.

For example, "Alexander was unable to find a way to follow his soul's purpose and kept getting distracted. He had a hard time understanding how, or even sometimes why, his friends, peers, colleagues didn't seem to struggle like he did with making a living, being healthy, starting families, owning houses, and that sort of thing.

[It's best to rein it in and nip it and snip it early and faster. It's more important at this stage to complete the thing than to "do a good job" or whatever. Because this is very much like an infant or awakened coma-victim learning to walk with muscles that not yet adequately developed. The sooner you can accept a realistic idea of what your "muscles" are capable of doing, the sooner you can start appropriately and efficiently strengthening them and expanding the boundaries of their limitations. "Muscle" is basically the biological manifestation of will. I would say they are part of a sort of continuum or system of will which connects the "mind"/"I"/Self/Consciousness with the material world ... Anyway in this context obviously we are talking less about physical strength and stamina and more about "skills of will" such as ... willing one's attention back to a particular task when distracted by a thought or stimulus; holding the "end result"/"Final Cut" in awareness while simultaneously attentive to the "here and now" -- analogy like ascending a mountain, where you can see the peak, which is your goal, and keeping an eye on it while also avoiding roots and loose rocks and navigating what is immediate; also including not getting stuck looking at the distant peak and its majestic beauty, or absorbed with some tree bark or the antics of clever insects. ...]

Then one day he had a magical experience and realised that he was part of the Universe, and the Universe was an eternal, infinite, loving conscious Self, that was willing to commune and interact with Alexander in his current embodied, time-bound, finite life, and Alex started to connect with this seed core of Infinite Creative Intelligence and the more he did, he found he had more courage and willingness to do what he was meant to do in this life. It's hard to find the right word for it. "Easy" and "Effortless" hint at it but it's more like a nondual thing where it is BOTH effortless and the hardest thing you've ever had to do. The two are bound together and not at all mutually exclusive. Though in the moment it can be hard to accept this truth.

So then, he was able to be self-regulated and "be his own boss" and find ways to make a living doing things like working with plants and garden systems; creating foods and edible delights for people; giving healing massage type qi body work; performing in a variety of ways and mediums; telling stories through film, writing, and spoken word; and so on. He met a girl that was to him the most beautiful girl he'd ever met, within and without, and she felt that he was beautiful too, in his own unique way, and she could sense in him Great Love, and she offered her own Love and they "became as one" and supported each other to realise their "highest potential" and "soul's/life purpose". the end

[lavender-laney]

choking on sea salt, chapter one

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 part one, Chapter 2 part two, Chapter 3

Some of the ink has run, smeared, or faded, but the general message is clear throughout the short journal – the people were peculiar, the land did not behave as it should, and her curiosity far outweighed her judgment.

“On a cool night during my second week in Sapphirine Bay, I ventured down to the shoreline. Although I set off in the midst of the night’s darkest point, it felt as though multiple sets of eyes watched my trek through the village. In each passing moment I expected one of the men to storm from their homes, demanding I return to the run-down shack one of the kinder souls had rented to me. As I neared the sands, the feeling only grew. The beaches were blocked off with chain fences, weathered by decades of salty air. As I ducked underneath the rusted chain, I was suddenly sure I was the first person to step foot on this shore for a very, very long time. It was a gentle night, the waves calm and quiet. It was at odds with the unease rising in my stomach.”

The ink is far too smudged here to read, as though the author had closed the notebook before it had time to dry.

“When I made it out onto the dock, I noticed the posts had these long gouges through the wood. It reminded me of the way the neighborhood cats used to sharpen their claws against my porch steps, though the water was far too deep for any sort of mammal to make its way out there. This added to the long list of oddities I’d experienced during my time there, and it only continued to grow. A small rowboat was tied onto the end of the dock, the rope frayed and disintegrating, the boat itself dented and waterlogged. As I leaned closer, the waves grew more violent, and the wind picked up. The rowboat hit against the side of the dock, a heavy thud that echoed in the night’s strange quiet. As it crept closer, I caught sight of what lay within. It had clearly been picked apart over the years, whether by birds or creatures of the sea, and only a scattering of yellowed bones remained. I’m sure it was, at one point, a person.”

This is where the entry ends, and Sadie wonders if Silverlee’s unease got the better of her. Surely it must have, as the journal ends only a few pages later, abruptly and without explanation. It’s odd, though, considering the determination and confidence radiating from the woman’s journal entries. Nonetheless, Sadie was unable to find evidence of Silverlee’s later endeavors, after this failed study into an odd coastal village, but that’s not all too strange for a generally insignificant amateur historian from a small town.

Silverlee is significant to Sadie, though. She’d discovered the woman’s journal in the depths of her university’s historic archives one night, and read its entirety right there, sat on the floor between two towering bookshelves. The journal is heavy parchment between worn leather, the binding frayed and pages yellowed. Sadie can nearly trace the imprints of Silverlee’s grip on the book, evidence that she had once held it as tightly as Sadie does now. 

Something about the woman’s clear passion for unraveling Sapphirine Bay’s curiosities resonated with Sadie, and left her with her own burning questions about the village, bouncing around her mind and clawing at an opportunity to satiate her curiosity. 

“Miss Hale,” Pruitt, Sadie’s Investigative Reporting professor, begins, “I implore you to choose a different subject.”

She simply stares, her lips set in firm indifference. She clutches Silverlee’s journal to her chest, gentle on the faded, soft leather.

He sighs. “Just look at the topics your peers have selected. Mr Price is investigating the increase in homeless encampments downtown. Miss Wickers is conducting research into an under-celebrated local war hero from the 20s. Mr Bradbury is looking into a series of unsolved drug overdoses at the Vandeleur Hotel. You, Miss Hale, would like me to approve a trip into the mountains of Maine to indulge a tale spun by a self-proclaimed historian nearly a century ago.” He pauses, seemingly to give Sadie a moment to consider her outlandish request. “Do you understand my hesitance, Sadie?”

“Well, Mr Pruitt,” she begins, holding his gaze. She watches as his patience with her begins to splinter in the face of her insolence. “Personally, my peers’ topics feel uninspired. Does Mr Bradbury truly care about the drug overdoses, or did he simply believe the topic would impress you, or impress his future employers? I care about the mysteries surrounding Sapphirine Bay and Silverlee’s journal. My questions are authentic, not curated to compete for a spot at the top of the class. Finally, it’s not a ‘tale,’” she huffs, then hesitates, remembering who she’s speaking to, “and even if it is, that will make an equally interesting story for my readers.”

 It’s too late to rein in her tirade, though. Pruitt’s eyes have narrowed, and Sadie glances nervously at the door to the lecture hall, praying his next class will begin filing in and dissolve this tension. 

“It would do you well to get a handle on this temper, Miss Hale,” he says lowly, looking down his nose at her, an irritating fly he’s preparing to swat. “In this field, you’ll find pursuing the most impressive stories will benefit you, no matter how authentic your curiosity.” He pauses, amusement twinkling in his eye. “If you want to search for this town of antisocial fishermen, I won’t stand in your way. Pray that this journal of your’s is correct, and that this isn’t all for naught. If nothing else, this will make a good lesson – and perhaps you can begin to consider if you’re suited for this career.”

Before she can muster a response, Pruitt turns away, gathering a stack of papers from his desk and beginning to flip through them. Sadie shuffles on her feet, indignation still boiling in her blood.

“My next class arrives in 15 minutes. I will see you after the summer break,” Pruitt says simply, tone light. “You are dismissed, Miss Hale,” he adds after a moment of silence.

Without a word, Sadie turns on her heel and leaves the lecture hall, still holding Silverlee’s journal close, cheeks flaming.

“I believe you,” she whispers to the journal held in her determined grip, ignoring the strange glances she receives from the students she walks past. “I’ll make them believe you, too.”

Ironically, the bottom of the ocean feels very much like standing at the top of a mountain. The water crowds around Sadie from all sides, pressing, crushing, much like the suffocating air of high altitudes. She feels it pushing in on her ears, muffling her senses, only the sound of the ocean – quiet rumbling, the implication of crashing waves far above her – filling her skull. The swaying current rushes past her, pulling at her hair, her clothes, her limbs, like strong wind threatening to knock her from the mountaintop, sweep her to the ocean floor.

She turns, slowly, fighting against the pressure. Her bare feet dig into the heavy silt beneath her, grounding herself against the sudden strengthening of the current. It barrels past her as she scans her surroundings. For as far as she can see, there is only the deep cobalt darkness of the ocean’s depths, a mirror of the expansive sky from where she balances on the mountain’s peak. When she looks again, she begins to recognize wooden beams stretching from the sand, torn piles of tangled fishing nets, the way the sand has been disturbed as though dug through and clawed away. When she glances down, she realizes her scrabbling at the ocean floor has left a similar impression beneath her feet. 

Sadie finally looks above her, spotting the sun’s hopeful rays splitting through the ocean’s surface. It feels miles away, even as she begins to struggle, clawing herself upward, legs kicking furiously. On the mountain, she wonders how much further can possibly climb. There is nowhere left to go, only the fog around and above her, and the sun begins to feel more taunting than hopeful, glaring down on her desperate reaching arms, burning her vision.

A shadow flickering in the corner of her eye. She turns her gaze from the surface above, and instead to the figure lurking beneath her. It flickers in and out of her view, murky and blurry, much like a beautiful sea shell rolling in the waves, vanishing from sight each time you reach for it. As Sadie watches, it creeps closer. It is human-like, with a long face and wide eyes, a mouth pulled in a sharp frown, head tilted to the side as it studies her. Behind it, Sadie recognizes a fish-like fin, much like the colorful fish Sadie often sees in the pet store, pitying the beautiful creatures in their claustrophobic cups. It ripples as the creature creeps ever-closer, eyes now just before Sadie’s, and Sadie feels herself unraveled, dissected and studied by this being. As she stares, immobilized, another flicker at the corner of her vision, a clawed hand rushing through the water, grasping at her ankle.

Sadie kicks, struggle renewed. For the first time, she feels herself struggling to breathe. She chokes, mouth agape in a wordless shout. She lashes out at the creature in front of her, and it dissolves before her eyes, wiped away like condensation on a mirror. No such thing can be said for the one beneath her, and it pulls her closer despite her thrashing. Her throat tightens, and she feels saltwater filling her lungs, her stomach, rushing in through her nostrils, her mouth, stinging at her wide, burning eyes. Silt kicks up around her with her waning attempt at a struggle, and the expansive nothing is obscured by sand and bubbles. 

The grip on her ankle tightens, and she watches as deep red begins to bleed into the cloud. It tugs, suddenly, not unlike the water’s steady drag or the wind's furious push, and the sun’s rays quickly become a distant hope. The being pulls her further into the water’s endless depths, tumbling from the mountaintop, and she feels herself crumbling under the ever-crushing weight of the ocean. 

Sadie jolts awake, shuddering, blankets wrapped around her in a mockery of the sea’s embrace, dream rapidly fading from her memory. She glances out the window overlooking her bed. The moon is full, luminous and foreboding, its cool rays of silver streaming through the glass, much like sunlight filtering through the ocean’s sapphire hue. 

Sadie shivers, averting her gaze. She attempts to shrug off the unsettled feeling, instead slipping from her bed to retrieve Silverlee’s journal from her bag. As she reads by the moon’s light, legs tucked against her chest, back resting against the wall, she hums to fill the suffocating silence.

tag list (lmk if anyone would like to be added or removed!)

@megarywrites @at-thezenith @repressed-and-depressed @plasma-studios @wrenofthewords @palebdot @communist-mariner @phantomnations @thelittlestspider @eurydicefades @inkingfireplace @silverslipstream @atreegrowss @i-rove-rock-n-roll

i'm so excited to finally be posting this!! i hope y'all like it so far and sorry it's so long lol <3

[imballpoint]

Lonely Road - Unfinished

I drove away from home. I had plans to get somewhere far away. I had to get there in a certain amount of time. I was in a rush you could say but also I was running away from home. Something and only one thing very specific was happening to me, that’s what encouraged me to drive away. I knew there was something happening out there that far away place since before that night. I hadn’t necessarily planned on leaving home to get there on time, I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess it was always going to happen for me you could say. Strange. How could I be such an influence? But anyways, I ended up leaving home at a moment’s notice. In a nick of time you could say, to somehow get there on time. Even though I hadn’t planned on being there at this time, I did plan on getting there in time, so when I get there im sure its meant to be. What if I hadn’t? Anything can happen ya know.. like how I ended up leaving home that night. It looks random. At the drop of a dime as they say. Some say, at a moment’s notice; everything can change. And that’s what happened I guess. I left because I felt like it. I was half-listening, kinda conversing but also mainly resting from a long day and an even longer conversation from earlier about how stressed out I am… I wasn’t necessarily deep in thought about this conversation, I had spilled my soul quite a bit earlier in the other convo, recuperating you could say. In fact, I think I was ready for bed. But I was in a car, so not quite in position to lay ya know… and then something happened. I have no idea what that is.

All of a sudden, I felt like leaving. It was like mad inspiring. So I left home. I drove away in the middle of the night. Wide awake. Cursed. Tired. Ignorant. Emotionless. But, happy.

The next night I was exactly where I wanted to be. Still driving, I opened the windows. At this moment, I looked up at the night sky, the stars in the sky, and the road disappeared. Something else caught my eye, something grabbed my attention too. I turned the headlights off to see in the dark better. My car crawled on the road. I decided too that this was a good time to rest, the past 100 miles I had paved with tyranny. As I stuck my arm out the window I peered out into the dark desert. I’m pretty sure I felt the presence of a notorious coyote or wolf nearby the road, my heart couldn’t stop racing; nervous as ever. I have never been more scared in my entire life. And for a second there I thought I was that coyote or wolf nearby the road. The silence and the anticipation and the darkness and the fear all combined were too immense to handle, I was utterly terrified. Not having to many options in the moment I decided to embrace the coyote or notorious wolf presence, like spiritually. I kept crawling forward on that road, headlights on. I always wanted to get to a road like this. I drove a Ford Mustang and roads like this are a dream come true. Metal to the pedal as they say and I started Shred Road again. Not before long I looked up at the night sky again and WHAM! something heavy hit my chest. All of my energy, even the Mustang, drained upside down from my heart channel to the top of my head and out of my eyes super straight into the starry sky. And now I was completely scared, or frightened you could say. I could see the sky in its vast and massive entirety, something like the universe in the palm of your hand. Absolutely breathtaking. It was like a spiritual experience, it shook my soul alive. Something like a deep sea and a dark abyss getting to know you on the best day of your life. The two of those combined as a matter of fact, black and blue. It was truly an eye opening experience and that’s how I felt, black and blue. Majestic. Thrilled. Wonderful. Open. Destiny. I thought for a second that I was grounded. Like in trouble with mom, like maybe I did something wrong, like embarrassed…

And then I caught a second wind, take it or leave it, it said to me. I hit the gas and sped away. Nothing can stop me now, officially, I’m gone, as they say. Had I stopped for a moment in that moment I’m almost sure I would have went flying. Yeah literally flying, like lifted off the earth, like superman decided to give me a bad day. I’m not sure if it was my beating heart, the second wind, the light in my eyes, the serene of the Nevada desert, or the thought of dying that saved my life that week.

Things got trippy after that, now that I’m thinking back. I remember driving and that’s it, full attention on the road, regardless how empty it is out there. I remember a vehicle closing in on me out of nowhere, brighter headlights, better engine, and obviously more experienced on this road. I remember not remembering passing any vehicles on that road. I remember it passing me easily, dominating terrain. I remember catching a draft and picking up speed, straight shot into the mountains. I remember looking out the passenger window for some odd reason. I remember seeing a condensed atmosphere ahead of me. The rest is foggy, because like I said I was concentrated on driving. Trippy experience though, I remember sitting back in my seat and kinda being driven for a moment. I think I felt scolded, by a ghost. Looking through the windshield passed the moment away very quickly and I continued on. I could have died I think. I was almost possessed, like voodoo or poltergeist. And to this day I’ve been running around like a chicken with it’s head chopped off, kinda tortured ya know. True story.

I can’t explain to you angels and demons and how they live in another dimension but I can explain to you that communication with spirits is real. I am the moving force of life not death in this scenario. In fact, I have way more viscosity of life in this scenario than those other 2 people. Furthermore, I can’t explain to you the number of angles required in constellation to relate to someone else, especially someone a world away, but I can explain to you basic science principles like max lance; stick it where it hurts. You can’t get stronger in this life by being weak. Admittedly there is a little bit of pain, but no pain no gain as they say. That’s why I drive this long road alone, terrible and horrible is good mood food, I say.