#sorry if you were the person who translated this back into English

[erajunex]

The House of Sin. (part 1)

Rating: 18+ MDNI. You read at your own risk.

Pairing: Father Charlie Mayhew x housekeeper!fem!reader

Summary: Your very religious family decides to preserve you from the evil of the world by entrusting you to Father Charlie as his housekeeper. You’re welcome in the House of Sin.

TW (for this part): NSFW. SMUT. blasphemy; mentions and references to catholic themes (some of them are prob inaccurate sorry); reader is very religious (but not innocent); mentions of blood; graphic description of self-inflicted flagellation; masturbation; voyeurism; swearing.

a/n: English is not my first language, so please be kind bc this took me so long to translate (lol), if you wanna be added to the tag-list for the next part lemme know with a comment pls

Enjoy xx

Father Charlie Mayhew had always been faithful and devoted to the promises he made before God when he decided to please Him for the rest of his earthly life, and with the same devotion he always made an effort to spread love for God within his parish.

In his whole life, he never felt the slightest desire to act in opposition to the Lord's word, he never succumbed to temptation, and his spirit never entertained the idea of sinning.

He was the perfect servant, the best guide for his parish, and for the faithful whom the Lord entrusted to him.

Or at least that was what everyone believed about him, including your parents, who thought that offering you the position of Father Charlie’s housekeeper would be the best way to protect you from the vices and dangers of the outside world.

Your father was a strict and religious man who raised you with rules and discipline, so you accepted his decisions without question.

Father Charlie knew your family well and recognized your parents' honesty and devotion, so he had high expectations for you, and you would’ve met all of them.

The initial period of living together at his house was quite peaceful, and being with him felt comfortable from the very first day. You spent your days peacefully working for him, cleaning his house and the church, doing laundry, and preparing lunch and dinner. Nevertheless, you always found a moment for prayer. You shared everything with him and you were grateful and respectful at the point you considered him a master despite his young age.

You recognized your parents' admiration for him, and you shared it too because he was a decent man who cared for all his faithful and his mission as God's servant. He was charismatic, persuasive, and seemingly flawless. To be honest, his personality intrigued you. You had to admit that sometimes you found him charming, but those were just fleeting thoughts that you quickly pushed aside— till tonight.

It’s late at night; all the lights are off, and Father Charlie has retired to his room about an hour ago.

You’ve just finished washing the dishes and are getting ready for the night. As you prepare to head to the room he had assigned to you when you first arrived, a flicker of light and subtle noise from his door catch your attention as you walk through the hallway.

At first, you think it’s just a perception, but as your feet slow down until they stop in the hallway, you realize your ears are not wrong.

Driven by curiosity you approach the door slowly, trying not to make a sound as you peek through the half-closed door to see out what is happening inside his room. But, you know, sometimes curiosity can kill.

You freeze. Your jaw drops, and your eyes widen as they look straight at the scene being etched in your memory.

Father Charlie sits at the edge of the bed, fully exposed to your gaze, the soft light casting shadows on his bare skin. His back is turned to the painting of Jesus Christ hanging on the wall, a watchful presence above him from which he is trying to hide himself.

He’s panting. He’s completely naked. With one hand around his cock.

His eyes are closed and his slightly parted lips release soft moans of pleasure, the rhythm of his breath filling the quiet room. A sheen of sweat glistens on his naked body as he keeps moving his left hand at a rapid pace, trying to set himself free from the lustful thoughts that had taken over his body as soon as possible.

Your breath breaks.

You can’t believe it. Father Charlie has succumbed to the desire of the flesh, his soul becoming stained by a sin he should never have committed. Not him. Not a priest like him.

And without knowing, he‘s pulling you into the Devil’s claws with him.

Because no matter how shocked you are, and no matter how hard you’re mentally cursing yourself for being overcome by curiosity, your eyes are glued to his magnificent body and cannot tear themselves away from it.

You are expected to go, but you can't. You don't want to.

For the first time in your whole yet short life, you hear it. That voice. The voice of temptation.

You continue to stare at him with bated breath, wishing that show will never end.

"Ah, fuck..." he groans and you shudder.

A shiver goes straight to your core, and you immediately feel an urge to clench your thighs together to hold back an unusual tickle that you had never experienced so strongly before.

However, it is not sufficient.

Forgive me, Father… you think. Your cheeks redden with shame as the last bit of reason fades away from you at that precise moment your right hand goes straight under the cloth of your sundress, and just as if it has been guided by a dark and sinister force it sneaks between your legs, right in your cotton panties.

For I have sinned.

You aren’t used to touching yourself, and even if you had done it on rare occasions you'd never imagined doing it like this— secretly watching your priest as he does the same thing.

Soon you realize that something inside you is changing rapidly. It‘s just a tiny spark, but it can set your whole body on fire in no time.

And it’s all his fault.

Your fingertips slide between your already-soaked folds, coating in juices that flow out of you like a river, and then you start teasing yourself shamefully, trying to focus on the scene in front of you to avoid those pitiful and lonely voices that keep whispering to you to stop.

“Yes…” he licks his lower lip and for a brief moment you imagine how good, how pleasant it could be the feeling of his wet tongue on your skin, exactly where your hand is. It’s so, so wrong and you know it, but you can’t control yourself. It’s overwhelming.

His nudity contrasts sharply with the solemnity of the image behind him. He looks so vulnerable, so…

“So good…” he says between moans. You want to know what he’s thinking, what kind of images are guiding his imagination— if you’re part of them too.

His forearm anchors on the mattress to balance himself, and his hips buck against his hand to gain more friction.

“Oh, God…” his broad chest is heaving with every breath that escapes his lungs as you try your best to swallow every squeak, careful not to get caught right there.

Sweat covers his forehead, small drops sliding down his ecstatic face and neck, igniting your deepest fantasies while your fingertips rub at your clit in circular motions, mimicking the pace at which he’s stroking his length.

You can’t help but look at it. Thick and veiny, the tip red and leaking with precum, your pussy throbs around nothing at the mere idea of putting his whole girth in your virgin mouth and knowing how good it could taste.

The man bites his lips and you do it too in reflection.

You are a mess. Your trembling thighs are soaked by the juices dripping from your aching pussy as you frantically touch yourself. Your entire being lies completely under the tight grip of the Devil, ensnared in a web of darkness that seeks to control every thought, feeling, and action.

His strokes become erratic, and his eyebrows knit together in a mixture of pain and bliss. He is close… and in such a short time you are too. Your teeth bite your lower lip until it bleeds, in a desperate attempt to hold back a whine. But you don't stop. You will not do it until he will too.

All of a sudden, his hand stops. A guttural sound of satisfaction slips past his throat reaching your ears as he throws his head back and the orgasm washes over him.

The tight knot in your belly snaps and thousands of shocks invade your body from head to toe. Your vision goes blurry, your mind goes fuzzy and your knees get weak like jelly.

You’ve just reached the peak without even knowing it.

Thick ropes of his white seed spill from his throbbing cock, falling right on his palm and stomach.

Your mouth waters at the sight, you can swear that if only it had been possible you’d walk into that damn room and kneel in between his huge thighs just to lick him clean and suck the soul out of him, making him cum again and again and again.

For God’s sake, those thoughts will send you straight to hell!

Silence takes his moans’ place, and his eyes open slightly as his breathing searches for a more regular pace, just like yours.

You pull out your hand from your soaked panties. A wave of post-orgasmic sense of guilt crashes over you. You have just sinned. Right now is time to go to your room and get some rest, forgetting what have just happened and never thinking again about it, and yet your eyes and your feet are stuck right here, quivering for his next moves.

Everything has been so tempting and your body wants more.

He suddenly gets up from the mattress and makes his way towards the antique dresser next to the bed. A bowl full of water is on top of it, and he quickly dips both his hands inside of it to his wrists, washing away every sign of the sinful act he had just committed—unaware it’s happened in front of you.

From that spot, his body is perfectly exposed to your gaze, and your mind takes advantage of this to explore new, undiscovered places.

He‘s tall, radiant, and huge. He looks like a classical statue. His broad chest and chiseled abs seem to be sculpted in marble, just like his thick thighs and the strong and muscular arms he usually hides under the vestments.

He’s handsome.

Only the Lord knows what those arms are capable of, how those big and veiny hands would be able to touch and grab a woman’s body- your body. How good his mouth would be able to kiss you, bite you, lick you, satisfying the most private parts of you like no one ever did. If only he didn’t have to respect the vows of celibacy and obedience... if only he didn't choose to refuse lust and resist temptation for the rest of his life…

He wipes his hands with a clean towel near the basin, heavy breathing releasing from his lungs as if he wants to get rid of that slamming weight on his shoulders. The weight of the mortal sin he has just given into, the reason why he deserves to be punished— and maybe you deserve it too.

You see him going through the drawer and picking something before he lifts the wooden kneeler to the side. And when he approaches the bed again, you recognize the scourge in his hand.

Your heartbeat down faster as soon as you realize what’s going to happen. Father Charlie places the kneeler in front of the bed, exactly where he was before, and turnes his back to you, revealing his broad shoulders and his back previously tortured by the hits he self-inflicted with the tool he’s now placing on the sheets.

A bunch of shivers flood your body from head to toe, trepassing your spine. You see the still-opened wounds and cuts on his pale skin, the clear signs of every time he sinned and begged for forgiveness.

He kneels and firmly takes the scourge in his right hand. Seven cords, seven barbs for the seven deadly sins, and seven virtues.

The mortification of the flesh.

It‘s the only way to deaden his sinful nature and bring back his focus to the only thing he pledged to honour even after his bodily death.

He rests his elbows on the board, with his back straight as he looks at the white wall in front of him, his eyes filled with certainty and confidence.

He stands right there unshaken, keeping you on edge for his next move before his lips parts and he speaks.

"Merciful Lord, I come before You seeking forgiveness and healing" with a rapid flick of his hand he whips himself violently, making you gasp in shock. You hear him holding his breath, trying his best not to cry and scream from pain, and then he spakes again.

"f-for the sin of lust that… dwells within me." another lash, another flinch from you. Cords are already leaving marks and bruises, you can feel how much they sting on his skin and on his previous wounds as the sharp edges sink on his back mercilessly.

"I confess m-my weakness in giving in to… impure desires" his stomach jolts in pain, and his dilated pupils stare blankly at the painting on the wall as his lips tremble with each syllable "and… indulging in lustful t-thoughts and actions t-that offend… You."

A lot of blood starts gushing out from his wounds, staining the cords with a bright red color.

You cover your mouth in shock. You can see the pained look on his face, pleasure has completely abandoned his now-suffering body that‘s writhing at the feeling of those rusty barbs tearing his flesh apart at every whipping, painting the cold floor with the spatters of his own blood.

Father Charlie is asking for forgiveness, pleading the Lord to save him and have mercy on his damned soul, because he is aware of the burden on his shoulders and he wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

And the only way to regain his purity is through suffering, through that physical pain that can purify both his body and soul, leaving him weak and miserable like a dazed sailor who lost his compass and cannot find the horizon.

"Purify my heart" he barely mutters, too exhausted "renew my mind" his forearms lost their grip on the rubbed wood of the kneeler forcing him to cling to it as strength slowly leaves his body. You watch him with an alarmed look on your face, worried about his state "and sanctify my body as Your temple."

A final statement spoken with a broken voice before Father Charlie immediately collapses on the wooden structure, visibly in a worn out state. Spurting blood stains his bare back, his eyelids squeeze trying to kill the pain of that one last whip that completely slashed his flesh.

You accidentally step back with your left foot, producing a nearly undetectable noise that forces you to lean your hand against the wall to keep balance in an attempt not to get caught. Too late.

Father Charlie turns around quickly, towards the door he previously left slightly ajar. His gloomy eyes meet yours even if shrouded in darkness. Your heart stops in your chest, becoming like a stone falling into a bottomless pit.

Shit.

a/n: part 2?

[mister-001]

POISON

content: Yandere Platonic Batfamily x Neglected Reader

sinopse — you were neglected from a young age, you could no longer take all this neglect and the looks they gave you, as if you were an insect next to them, your option was to run away, and so you did, but on the way, you meet a certain clown, one who charts your path, you might think that's how it ends, but you're very wrong, you can't defy your family, and look who came to haunt you, I mean, look who came to take you home.

Warning: mentions of violence, murder, mentions of torture, violence, mentions of drugs, Reader is a girl, manipulation, violence against minors, torture, Cigarette use, negligence, joker being the joker, Yandere behavior, defined gender, blood.

chapters: 02

A/N: Firstly, you can call me Shin or Lay, feel free, sorry for the defined gender, I feel more comfortable writing for the female gender, but don't worry, I will write for other genders too, I'm just trying to feel comfortable first, I ask you to be patient with me, I can't be very active, I have a life to prioritize, health first, English is not my first language, Portuguese is, I'm using the translator, so if there is an error you already know Who to blame, I'm writing because I like writing, so don't rush me, sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, drink water and take care of yourselves, Take care little lamb...

Enjoy it while you can...

You can't run away forever little bird...

eyes were glued to the tomb in front, the tombstone well cared for and clean, a sigh came out of the little girl's mouth, more tears filled her eyes, even though she had this stoic expression, it didn't stop her from crying, until the stronger ones cry...

A hand was placed on the little girl's shoulder and she looked at the person, the middle aged man looked at her with pity, she had lost her mother so early, poor girl, at such a young age, already lost someone, the man smiled softly and nodded towards the car

The girl always had the curiosity of meeting her father, of course, her mother always said that he was a rich playboy who wouldn't have time for her, but even so, as harsh as those words sounded, the little girl knew that this was a lesson, a fact, and it seems that her mother was right, as always...

Bruce considers himself to be at least a somewhat decent person

I mean, he may not be what people call perfect, but he tries to be decent, behind that expression, there is someone who was much happier before...

Well, when a little girl arrived at Wayne Manor, he tried to do what he could to calm down first, yes, it's not the first time he's had a child, but this time is different, this little girl, is his, she contains the same blood, she is not adopted, she is really his daughter

He tried at first, but then why didn't he try later?

Because he let her slip out of his hands

He should have been there for her

He wanted to have been there for her, but the city needed him

But she also needs it, you know?...

Once again being ignored in this mansion, the dark halls that haunt you, stopping when you saw your older brother, Dick, he looked at you and just walked past you as if you didn't exist, you felt another piece of your heart break, with a sigh you walked again

Once again heading to the dark halls of the mansion

You were playing with dolls in your room, and looked at the door when you heard footsteps, your brother, Jason, walked by irritably, once again, it was always like this

You just went back to playing alone, with yourself and your silence...

It's like they say, silence is a person's best friend...

Footsteps are heard as a little girl walks through the halls once again, heading to the kitchen while looking for Alfred, she clutched the Batman plush and stopped in a room, she was going to knock on the door, but someone had already opened the door.

The little girl looked at her brother, Tim, and tried to speak, but he simply closed the bedroom door, leaving her standing in front of the door while looking at the wooden door in front of her.

With a sigh she turned and went back to looking for Alfred.

The little girl was helping Alfred and lost the Batman plush, while looking, the girl saw two girls talking and laughing, they were her sisters, Barbara and Cassandra, she likes to call them Barb and Cass, but when she went to talk to them girls, they just walked past her, Cass was kind enough to pet her head, but still, they completely ignored her existence

Again...

You were next to Damien as you clung to his jacket in the morning, a boy decided that you were the best option to bully, but Damien didn't like it very much and now the boy was on the floor bleeding, his nose was definitely broken. , he was crying in pain while Damien was looking on with disgust and disdain

You..., well you were scared, you hate seeing people bleeding, it makes you sick, you just wanted your stuffed animal back...

Startled when Damien finally looked at you with that serious expression, you quickly released the sleeve of his jacket and looked into his eyes

_ "you are weak, you will never be a Wayne, that must be why your mother died, because you weren't strong enough to save her, you can't even protect yourself alone, who guarantees that you can protect someone, I'm the most new, and I still know more than you, for once, be useful and grow "

You froze, as if time was standing still, with your eyes wide in surprise, you looked at the ground and nodded slowly as you closed your eyes to keep the tears away, it hurt, it hurt a lot, it hurt more than the scars you have from that day, the day your mother died, the day you were sent to a dark place...

Damien just walked past you and stopped in the hallway, leaving you alone, with just your tears...

You were in your room crying, tears rolled down your cheeks, holding onto the only thing you had, your Batman plush, you wanted Batman to save you just like he saves Ghotam...

You were too distracted to notice that someone entered your room, footsteps came closer to you and you felt arms around you, with a start you looked at the person, only to see Alfred

Without saying anything you allowed yourself to cry more as you clung to him.

Alfred caressed your back gently as he sighed softly, he just wishes someone in this mansion could see how brilliant you are, how amazing you are, if only there was something he could do...

LOOKING at the Tombstone, everything was silent, the silence was deafening

Yes, you ran away, and I'm not saying it in a metaphor, I'm saying you actually ran away from the mansion, well, I wouldn't consider running away, because I'm pretty sure walking out the front door and no one stops you isn't considered running away, but which is a consideration for those who have never had one...

Now here you were, in front of your late mother's tombstone, the only one who taught you and gave you affection when you needed her most, no one can replace your mother, no one at all, you would get blood on your own hands if necessary, for She, you destroy the world...

Walking through the dark streets of Gotham was you, as you held your Batman plush close, you couldn't stop feeling that feeling of someone following you, well you were right but the worst part is being right about wrong feelings...

That's why you looked back, and didn't see anyone, but when you looked ahead, your heart felt like it was going to leave you, trying to calm your breathing you dared to look at his face, the smile that doesn't fool anyone, the clothes, the hair...

You weren't mistaken

You wish you were mistaken

But this was really him...

With an amused smile in front of him was none other than someone with his own macabre thoughts...

_ "Well, well, if we don't have a little clown, alone... I don't need to introduce myself, you must know me, but I have education and I'm going to introduce myself anyway, I'm the... Joker...

Batman will like the little gift, well, if he can have his little friends, I can also have a little clown with me, don't you agree?, of course you agree, come on, little clown, let's introduce you to Gotham City..."

You looked at the man in front of you with fear, your brain was screaming at you to run, but your legs seemed glued to the ground, frozen, paralyzed...

panic settled in your body when you felt arms lifting you, you tried to fight, you tried to make him let go of you, but you shivered when you felt something come into contact with your skin, of course you knew how to put one and one together, you grew with your Mom, so you obviously know that he injected something into you, injected something into your neck...

You felt tired and stopped fighting, your eyelids slowly closed as you tried to keep them open, but it wasn't enough and you fell into a deep sleep, a dreamless sleep...

A broken heart will never be broken again if the pieces are already too small, but who said you can't step on the pieces...

BRUCE felt something was wrong, a bad feeling, he double checked his kids and found every one of them, but the more he looked, the more he felt something was wrong, so he went to look at the cameras in the batcave, wrong move ...

Looking at the cameras, he finally figured out what was wrong, his daughter, his little daughter came out, she ran away, he felt panic rising inside him, and he heard a noise behind him, and when he looked he saw Jason looking at the recording of the video. security camera with a death glare, before Bruce nodded as Jason quickly turned and went to warn the others...

That's why now they were all in the Batcave, looking at the security cameras, Tim blamed himself for not being able to stop this, he made so many plans, because he can't make a plan in case this happened, now she was lost, in the darkness of Gotham City, a dark place...

But they will find you, no matter what it takes

They will burn down Gotham if necessary

It looks like it won't rain water from the sky, but rather blood...

A/N: hello little lamb, I hope you liked it, it wasn't my idea, I was inspired by an account that had this great idea, sorry for any grammar or spelling errors, and sorry again for the defined gender, remember to take care of yourself, little one little lamb, bye bye, take care...

Signed: 𝙇𝙖𝙮...

Autor : @trashpanda0000 @dhanyasri @marsmabe @caged-birdies-blog @vanessa-boo

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 7

Hearing the chime of rhe bell above the door, Danny mentally prepared himself before poking his head around the corner "Heya! I will be with you in one hot sec!"

Rushing around the kitchen, Danny set the chili to simmer and quickly cleaned himself up before coming back to greet his newest customer.

Stepping upt to the bar, Danny put his best customer service smile on and opened his mouth to speak, but the words that came out were not in English.

"Hey there! Welcome to Big C's diner what can i..." Blinking a bit before frowning, Danny looked closer at his customer, his eyes flickering a bright green as he squinted at the man.

Because either this man was the very strong revenant that had claimed Crime alley as his huant, or there some how was a 4th Halfa in the world.

---

Jason found the little diner comfortable, more up to date than the typical dive that was in the Alley, there wasn't even any blood splatter in the back booths!

He kinda didn't like how there was only a single person working there at night, being so close to the Alley and all, but that was easily fixed if he just happened to come around in his Red Hood outfit.

Sending a smirk like smile to the teen that came out from the kitchen, who had the fakest smile that Jason had ever seen outside of a gala.

But his smirk slowly slipped as the kid spoke, his words both sounding clear and distorted at the same time, he could make out words but it was very clearly not words at the same time.

Then, the kid's eyes flashed, and Jason had seen those eyes before, he had seen them in the mirror more times than he was willing to admit.

(Holy shit this kid is about to have a Pit episode in front of me...how the fuck did this kid get in the pits?) Jason thought as he leaned back into his seat, his hand instantly going to where his guns usually were, but only grasped at air.

(Right...forgot those at home...) He thought, settling instead to set his hands on the counter, Jason narrowed his eyes at the teen

But just like that, the green was gone, and the teen cleared his throat, "Sorry about that, um, welcome to Big C's, what can I get ya?"

---

Danny gave a weak smile, he didn't exactly want to throw down with this potential halfa, sure he liked a good ghostly welcome every now and again, but he just cleaned up and he would like his diner to stay that way thank you!

The man across from him glared for amoment longer before shaking his head, "Shit, ugh...gimme a coffee and...what's your special today?"

Reaching for the coffee pot, Danny felt a rumble in the diner cart, and there was suddenly a chalk board on the wall behind him.

Pouring his customer a mug, his brain paused for a moment, translating the ghost script before he spoke "Cadavers chili hotdogs, made with 100% not person meat...I promise neither are made out of people, definitely didnt seen any bodies when I made it my guy."

---

Staring at the blackboard that Jason was very much sure wasn't there a moment ago, he felt his chest tighten and ache as he read the...sigils? Words? They were definitely something and he totally shouldn't know what they mean.

Biting back a snort at the dry comment, Jason focused on him "I will take two...Danny? That your name or just the name on the aprin you got?"

Jason was totally not digging for information, because he totally wasn't a Bat or a Bird, and he totally didn't have an urge to know everything about the person across from him.

Getting a dry chuckle from the guy on the other side of the counter, who could only shake his head, "Sadly, that's my name, I will be back in a sec with your food, no running off tho' ya hear? Already dealt with dine and dashers once this week."

Letting out a chuff, Jason kept his eyes around the room, he knew logically he should be more freaked out by this whole experience, but he couldn't help but feel his body relax and his mind comfortable slow.

Holding the cup of coffee in both hands, he took a long sip and memories hit him harder than a crowbar.

It was his mother's coffee, not the bitch that sold him out but his mama, Catherine, the woman that struggled to keep him happy and fed.

It was the watered down brew, stretched to make it last longer.

It was milky and sweet with sugar packets pilfered form diners such as this and powdered milk he used to steal from the grocery store just for her.

His mama gave up so much for him, why couldn't he just do one little petty theft for her?

His heart aches again, and the intense feel of the pits roar in his ears, but they weren't calling for blood, the pits crooned in nostalgic heart break.

Usually remembering before his death was a trigger, was something that made him rage, but right now? He could only mourn for the mother and son that used to cuddle up together under a ratty blanket, of the mother that whispered stories to him during long quiet nights, of the woman that he had found dead on one such quiet night.

---

Tossing on the last bit of fresh diced onions, Danny had a cheesy grin on his face as he brought the plate to the front, mouth opening to speak before noticing his customers disposition.

He was hunched over on himself, looking small (which was impressive for a man thst looked twice his size and 4 times more muscular)

Tears were streaming down his face as he stared at the now half full mug, for some reason it felt heart breaking to see.

Setting the plate down carefully in front of the man, Danny placed a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay man...your okay bud." Awkwardly Patting his customers shoulder, Danny felt a bit of panic, he wasn't Jazz he didn't know how to like, console people!

It took a few minutes for the man to calm, and Danny handed him a few paper towels to clean himself up, patting him on the back one last time, Danny let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "Well...um, hope that the coffee is so bad that it made you cry, I-uhh, could comp it if you want?"

The man just shook his head, "Fuckin' hell, ain't bad, just...God damn it..."

---

Rubbing at his eyes Jason huffed, "Sorry for, um....blubbering on ya like that..

don't usually get teary at coffee, that's more of Timmer's shtick, just tastes...tastes like my mom's coffee when I was a kid..." shaking his head, Jason looked at the chili dogs, they still steamed, the cheese now melted on nicely.

Danny just nodded, "Yeah, some reason i have gotten a few comments on that" shrugging his shoulders, he started to figgle with a cloth, wipping down the counter as he spoke "Meh, Gotham is fucked up and I don't want to even begin to try and figure out."

Croaking out a laugh Jason dragged the plate of food closer, "Fucking right about that...though if you keep making it like that you got yourself a regular customer."

Reaching a hand across the counter, Jason gave Danny a weak smile, "Names Jason, nice to meet ya."

Taking the hand, Danny gave a smirk back, "Got it, one sad cup of coffee for you then-" Snapping his head over as he heard a beeping sound, Danny got a panicked look on his face "Oh shit! My cookies!"

---

Storming to the back, Danny ran to the oven, throwing it open, scrambling for the oven mits, he phased a hand through them instead of tugging them on, and quickly pulls the smoaking batch of sweets from the rack.

Plopping them on the counter, he hears the oven snap shut as he sighs, turning to thank the diner, he pauses to see the sight of a man he was hoping that he would never have to see again.

"Oh little Bager, King of the Realms making food for the common folk? How the great have fallen.." Vald said with a viscous grin, his hand reaching up to flip off the oven, "Did you think I wouldn't find you? Thought you could rum off and not tell dear old Uncle? Don't worry Bager, while old Vlad might not come around to vist much..."

There was a flash of black light and where a man once stood was a ghost, his grin pulled back devilishly "I am sure Plasmius will make up for it very...very well."

---

Laughing a bit as he watched Danny scramble inot the back, Jason stared at the food, he was still hungry but...he held an apprehension of sorts, was this going to bring back memories? Would they be good like the coffee or...

His thoughts were cut off as a body was through through the deviding wall from the front of the house to the kitchen.

Bolting up out of his seat, he watched as Danny stepped out of the hole in the wall, shaking out his fist as he did, "I really don't have the fucking time for you Plasmius, don't you see I have a customer?"

Jason stared as the body that was punched through the wall, that looked mangled, twisted and broken start to twitch and crack back into place, limbs bending back from positions they should never be, and then the man sat up, a feral grin on his lips.

(Really fucking bad day for not having my God damn guns.)

[wosoamazing]

Till Death Do Us Part

Barça x R | Lionesses x R | Matildas x R Warnings: Childbirth Complications (Amniotic Fluid Embolism), Death, Grief (please tell me if I’ve missed any) - also google translated Spanish/Catalan

Edited

Hopefully this is good, let me know what you think. Inspired by Ed Sheeran's song "Welcome to the World" (Was going to wait to post but yeah, posting it now)

“Irene, have you spoken to-” Alexia was stopped in her tracks when she turned the corner into the locker room, there you stood, the person Alexia was about to ask Irene if she had spoken too. There you stood, holding your two week old baby in your arms. There you stood in the middle of the locker room, rocking her as tears streamed down your face.

“C-can some-” you choked out as you gestured to the baby in your arms who Irene carefully scooped up into her arms before walking back out the room and shutting the door.

Alexia caught you as you threw yourself at her. She held your trembling body in her arms. The sobs wracking your body so deep and heavy they were silent. Alexia held onto you tightly, knowing no amount of reassurance could make the pain go away. Nothing would ever take this pain away. Nothing could ever bring your wife back, nothing could ever bring your daughter's other Mum back. Your wife, your life partner, died two weeks ago during birth, what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, wasn't, she had an amniotic fluid embolism. You had meet her when she first joined Barça, Lucy and Kiera introduced you to 'Australian Alex', being one of two Alex's at City she was given that nickname, her full name was Alexandra but she hated it. You felt an instant connection, you trusted her, which was weird because you were careful with who you let into your life you were quite and reserved usually until Alexia managed to convince you that they were a good person and you could trust them. You signed for Barça the same year as Alexia, you were English breed and born but you moved to Spain when you were ten, so you moved through the ranks of La Masia before singing with Barça meaning you grew close to Alexia over the years even though you were two years younger than her, you both were always two of the youngest players on any of your teams. Your parents died 6 months after you signed for Barça and Alexia and her family helped you through it, Eli told you she was going to be your 'mother' from now on, and that she was. You went to every family diner, you spent Christmas with them, you were always the first person Eli went to, to ask questions when she was concerned about her eldest daughter.

2 weeks ago

“It’s okay, you’re doing so good,” you told her as she threw up again, “are you sure it’s normal she is throwing up this much?” you asked the nurse yet again who just dismissed you.

“It hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know, I’m so sorry, I wish I could help, I wish I could make it better,” you said as you pressed the emergency call button continuously.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” The doctor said as he rushed in.

“I-I can’t breath,” she panted out before just about every monitor in the room started to alarm.

“She’s crashing, bag her. Call a code blue, we need an OR stat,” the doctor ordered.

The sound of the wheels being unlocked reverberated around the room, joining the symphony of alarms, and she was whisked away. Wheeled down the hall, gone, you were left standing, in the empty room, wondering what had gone completely and utterly wrong, this was meant to be the best day of your lives.

“Bronze, Walsh, I can trust you,” Irene said, relieved.

“Door. Baby. Don’t let anyone go in. Do not go in.” She said as she passed the newborn into Kiera’s arms, who started to rock her gently whilst cooing at her, “I’ll be back. I need to go talk to Jona. If Alexia asks for me, that's where I am.” she said as she started to walk off, before turning back around, “But I repeat do not open the door,” the two English women nodded blankly as Lucy moved to stand in front of the door. They were pretty sure they could hear someone crying through the door. It wasn’t Alexia.

“She is so cute.” Kiera said looking at Lucy who looked at the baby, before Kiera looked back down and Lucy lifted her gaze to the ceiling, “but to whom do you belong? And what’s going on in there?” Kiera asked whilst Lucy was trying to suppress her tears, the sight of the baby, your baby, brought tears to her eyes.

“Luce, don’t you think she looks familiar?” Kiera asked as she looked up at the defender again, seeing her eyes glossed over, the ginger’s heart immediately sank. It was you who was crying, it was your baby, “oh,” Kiera let slip.

“Yeah,” the defender bit her lip and nodded slightly.

2 months and 2 weeks since Alexia held your sobbing body in the locker room. 2 months and 2 weeks after moving into Alexia’s spare room, you found yourself in Bilbao. You found yourself in the Champions League Final starting XI. You found yourself leading your line out. It was a bittersweet moment, but you knew she was watching from above, and your now 3 month old baby was in the family section in the arms of Alexia’s mother. Every single Barcelona player and staff member wore a black armband. Everyone agreed (without your input) that this game would be for her.

____

Yet again you found yourself on the verge of tears, something that seemed common these days. However Alexia’s actions had confused you enough to help keep them at bay. She had lined up at the start of the medal line to collect her medal, which was confusing in and of itself as she was the one who needed to collect the trophy, but then she handed her medal to Ingrid and lined back up behind you.  However the confusion Alexia caused was slowly being taken over by the never ending pit of sadness inside you, and as you walked up onto that podium you realised going last maybe wasn’t the best idea. There were two medals left to be handed out, and you knew exactly who the, now spare, medal belonged to, you received your medal and kept walking fast, until you arrived in front of Lucy, turning around to face the podium again, knowing Alexia was going to make a speech before lifting the trophy. Lucy wrapped her arms around you from behind and placed her chin on your shoulder, the action spreading some warmth in you, temporarily hiding the pain.

You watched Alexia nod in the direction of Jona who nodded back to her before she pulled her shirt off, revealing a second shirt, the tears couldn’t be kept at bay anymore and when she collected that final medal you let out a silent sob as your tears became heavier.

Alexia made sure to display the back of the shirt to all sides of the filled stadium before taking the microphone, beginning a speech, different to her normal one. She was explaining who you’d all played the match for. She was informing the fans, something you hadn’t even thought about doing. Alexia teared up as she spoke, having to swallow back her emotions every once in a while. That’s when you realised it, she was gone forever. You started to cry harder and Lucy turned you around in her arms and held you tightly, as your body shook from your tears. You were transferred into Alexia’s arms at one stage, she was also crying, because she missed her, but she was also crying for you, for your daughter, for all the moments you will never get to have together as a family.

“Thank you,” you sputtered out as you leaned back from the hug, she took your head in her hands, as she shook her head at you, using the pads of her thumbs to wipe your tears away, causing a small smile to crack on both of your faces.

“Let’s go lift this trophy shall we,” you both laughed. Maybe? Before you hugged each other tightly and went to join the rest of the team who were waiting. After a few trophy lifts your families were allowed onto the pitch, and Mapi immediately took your baby girl from Eli and placed her in the trophy cup, before she carefully lifted it up, earning a scowl from Alexia, who promptly rescued her niece.

_____

“Do you think Auntie Ellie will want to meet you?” you asked the 3 month old. Strategically positioning yourself close enough so that the Australian would hear, but far enough away that she hadn’t seen you yet.

“Really,” she said as she lifted her head from Dan’s shoulder and looked up to you.

“Of course.” you said as you walked over to her, handing her your daughter to hold.

“Ellie meet Matilda Alex Y/L/N”

[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

[formulafics]

❀ NEW DESIRE | MV1

SCENARIO: you and max are childhood friends. despite claiming a platonic relationship - or rather, not claiming a romantic one, fans are certain that there’s more to what you both have, especially when max openly simps for you on streams, and most definitely when his private account gets leaked.

PAIRING: max verstappen x fem!reader

AN: i am so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! that being said, i hope you still enjoy it! thank you for your patience and your request 🫶🏻 also i did use google translate for the dutch part so if you speak dutch im so sorry LMFAO

as always, a shoutout to @renarots because these fics truly would not be as good without their input. <3

if you saw me change the title, no you didn’t

MASTERLIST

YNLN on Instagram stories

grandprixsandgossip on instagram

14,567 likes

grandprixsandgossip for a long time, fans of max verstappen have questioned his relationship with childhood friend yn ln. recently, the formula one drivers’ private instagram account posts were leaked after a fan somehow was accepted to follow his private account, which features many pictures of him and yn, dating all the way back to 2014.

you can find the archive of his posts on our website by following the link in our bio. while we weren’t able to gather every comment and like, we were able to get a majority of the posts!

what are your thoughts?

view all 782 comments

formulaverstappen okay so this is pure he-said-she-said, but apparently on the holidays post, max’s sister commented “just friends? 😉” and max responded with the 😳 emoji I AM SICK

rizzciardo anyone who still thinks they’re just friends is LYING to their self

lnnation haunted by the fact that yn learned dutch for max and she helped him learn english

formulanorriz if he doesn’t ask her out at this rate, IM GOING TO

GRANDPRIXSANDGOSSIP.COM

maxemillianv on instagram

maxemillianv goede race, nog betere mensen ❤️ of moet ik zeggen persoon haha (great race, even better people or should i say person haha)

ynln zoveel liefde voor jou. ik ben zo trots op je ❤️🏆 (so much love for you. i’m so proud of you. )

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maxemillianv out of office

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maxemillianv happy holidays 🎄

victoriaverstappen just friends? 😉

It’s funny, the way Max is. He’s blunt all the time, but this is different. A part of you is worried that maybe he’s upset, that perhaps something like this will be the reason you and him stray apart - you can’t imagine it. The thought of being anything but with Max matches your chest tighten, and even though you’d like to think that isn’t the case, you can’t be sure.

The wait for Max to arrive at your house is almost torturous. Your mind is racing, and by the time you hear his car pull up, you’re damn near shaking out of your skin. He doesn’t even have to knock or ring the doorbell - hell, he’s barely out of the car when you open your front door and step outside. You study his body language, trying to determine what exactly to expect. You just can’t clock it. With a sharp inhale, you lock your door and then make your way towards the car.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, uncertainty making your voice waver. “Yes,” Max responds simply. It’s a genuine yes, and in fact, he sounds almost happy. Your brows furrow in confusion as he opens the passenger side door for you, and you genuinely don’t think you could be more puzzled. You press your lips together as he returns to the drivers seat and starts the car again, not waiting to pull out of the driveway.

“Max, you’re scaring me,” you say. Scared isn’t the right word, but it’s something along those lines. His eyes stay on the road, yours are fixed on his face, still trying so desperately to read him. He glances at you, offers a small smile, then reaches over to grab your hand. He intertwined your fingers, assuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. It’s still odd - the whole situation, but that does make you feel more relaxed.

It’s quiet for longer than you’d like it to be. Aside from the radio, which is on a low volume, and the smooth rumble of the vehicle, it’s silent.

Finally, Max speaks. “I’m not worried about the posts,” he says, glancing at you for the second time. You find yourself wishing he could look at you for longer, a weird feeling washing over you as his eyes return to the road. He squeezes your hand subconsciously, his thumb soothing over the back of it. “Seriously?” you almost forgot to respond, but at the last minute, you remember his statement. “Seriously,” Max hums. The smile returns to his lips, and much to your relief, he expounds.

“Sure, it’s not ideal, but at the same time,” he pauses, and you can tell he’s trying to think of how to describe it. He chuckles briefly, “The only way to put it is that it’s made me realize that you’re so much more than a good friend.”

You’re still stumped. Now, you’re realizing that you don’t even know where Max is taking you - not that you’re worried about it, but the whole situation is just so strange, especially for you and Max. Thus, you remain silent, eyes never leaving him. You’re waiting for him to say something else, and he’s waiting for you to respond, assuming that you’d understand what he’s saying. Hes the first to realize that you don’t understand, and amused smile playing on his lips at your confusion. “Hold on, you’ll know what I mean when we get there,” He says, and this is somehow so Max, but not him at all, leaving you to sit silently, at least a million thoughts filling your mind.

Max pulls into a parking lot, and it only takes you a moment to realize you know where you are. You’ve been here with him once before, and you still remember that night so vividly. That was the first - and only - time you had ever questioned your feelings for Max. Any other time, you never had to think about how you felt. You knew you were happy with him, and it was the same for him. You didn’t need to know if you loved him, and he didn’t need to know if he loved you.

Now that the memories are coming back to your mind, it begins to dawn on you, what Max said. Regardless, you stay quiet and let him guide you into the club, hand still in his. He takes you to the very spot you both sat the first night you came here, and this time, rather than an empty booth and table, there’s a large bouquet of white roses sitting atop the table, a small note folded beside them. You aren’t sure what to say, or what to do. Your eyes flicker between the roses, the note, and Max, who carefully pulls you closer, his free hand now resting on the small of your back.

“I’ll give you the choice - you can read the card or I can relay it to you,” he says. You choose what first comes to mind. “Relay it to me.” Max nods, then turns you to face him, his hands on your waist. Instinctively, you place yours on his shoulders. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, and even though you’re certain that his words are the briefest summary of what’s in the card, you can’t be bothered. A smile takes over your expression and you nod. Max smiles too, pulling you into a tight hug.

The rest of the night, you continued on like you would have had he not asked you to be his girlfriend. There was no need for things to be different. In fact, the only thing that would change from here would be the pure admiration you both have always had for one another, and that was perfectly fine with you. Somewhere along the line, a certain friend showed up, and you did eventually read the card.

Safe to say, Max’s recap of the words written in the card were indeed brief. Your heart is happy knowing that only you would see such a soft, loving side of him, and only you would be able to clearly picture your best friend- boyfriend, all mushy as he writes the card.

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maxverstappen1 my ❤️

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landonorris okay i guess we don’t do photo creds anymore 😒

⤷ maxverstappen1 👍📸

ynln so much love for you always. ❤️

⤷ maxverstappen1 ❤️🔄

⤷ formulaverstappen IS THIS HIS WAY OF SAYING THAT BACK TO YN??? THERE ARE REAL TEARS IN MY EYES

victoriaverstappen very ‘just friends’ of you

⤷ maxverstappen1 👀

⤷ mv331lvr YALL EITHER GET THIS OR YOU DONT IM GOING INSANE

ln4nation THE FACT THAT LANDO TOOK THESE AND WAS THERE WITJ THEM IM GAGGED

papayabull YN AND MAX CONFIRMED DATING THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE

TAGLIST

@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @vellicora @spidersophie @arkhammaid @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @leclercvsx @sleepeatread @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @i-love-ptv @motorsp0rt @fastcarsandshit @marshmummy @jellyfish123guts @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @sadieurlady @piasstrisblog @pretty-little-bunny382728 @lokietro @stopeatread

Thank you for reading! 🌷

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™?

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name?

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈 You're fine!! And I'm open to doing that! I'll add it to my list hehe

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

[milaisreading]

hallo!! I really like your writing😆😆

Bisakah kamu membuat reaksi karakter kunci biru jika mereka tahu bahwa CD!yn adalah perempuan? (termasuk dunia 5, BM, Ubers, PXG, JFA, dan dunia.)

Sorry, my english is bad (english is not my first language)😓😓

🌱🩷: So I used Google translate bcs the middle part was written in Indonesian. And as far as I understood, you want me to write how the teams, World 5, and the world might react to Crossdresser!yn being a girl. I hope this was translated correctly. Sure, no problem! Hope u like this🫶🏻

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

Manshine City:

Chris: So, you are a girl?

CD!Yn: Yep!

Chris: Aha... *looks at Nagi, Reo, and Chigiri*

Chigiri, blushing as he avoided eye-contact with YN: WE DIDN'T KNOW, I SWEAR!

Nagi:...

Reo, trying to keep his cool: This is so embarrassing. Explains why I always thought you were too cute for a boy.

CD!Yn: What?

Chris, pulling her behind him: Stay back from my child!

Reo:...

Chigiri:...

Nagi with his Miffy face: Does that mean I can dress you up as a maid?

Chigiri starts nose bleeding, Reo is scolding him, while Yn tries to leave the place.

Chris: 20 laps around the facility, Nagi!

Ubers:

Snuffy: So, only Barou knew about this?

CD!Yn: Well, him, Isagi, Ego-san, and Teieri-san.

Barou is in the corner getting rinsed by Oliver and Sendou on why he didn't tell them.

Oliver: You mean I might have had a shot?

Sendou: So the whole time I was crushing on a real girl?! *blush intensifies*

Niko had already fainted in another corner while Aryu was uncharacteristically silent as he stared at her.

Snuffy: Lorenzo, keep Yn away from these guys.

Lorenzo, already escorting her out: Let's go and get something to eat

CD!Yn: Ok? Did Aryu just faint?!

BM:

Kaiser: There is no way you are a girl! You are flat!-

Noa ends up bonking him on the head.

CD!Yn: And you have rat hair! *embarrassed*

Noa: And you knew this, Isagi?

Isagi, who was trying his best to calm Kurona down: She told me so during our 2nd selection process.

CD!Yn: True! Yukimiya, you haven't blinked once during this whole ordeal.

Yukimiya, in an attempt to rebuke it blinked once: I did! By the way, we can model together.

Hiori, acting like her bodyguard along with Kunigami and Gagamaru

Gagamaru: We will protect you from unwanted attention!

Kunigmai: Just stay around us.

Hiori: Yes! Don't worry, you are in good hands!

CD!Yn: Thank you!

Ness is meanwhile in a corner, recalling that one time he nearly walked in on Yn showering: AHHH! THIS IS ALL A MESS!

Kurona, after finally calming down: either guy or girl, Yn is still the cutest

Isagi: Very true!

PXG:

Charles: Still would date you!

CD!Yn: Date?! Aren't you disgusted I lied?!

Charles: Nope *pulls her into a hug* I still admire your abilities as a midfielder. Besides, I always had a thing for tall girls!

Yn starts blushing more as Ri and Karasu attempt to pull her away.

Rin, unsure about his own feelings for Yn now: Get off of her, you leach!

Karasu, still trying to comprehend he shared a room with a girl: She has her personal space! Let her go.

Charles: No~

CD!YN: C-calm down everyone!

Shidou is meanwhile excited by the idea that he got beat up by a girl once. Tokimitsu is trying to comprehend everything to the best of his abilities.

Tokimitsu: Girl or not, she is still our captain. Tho, I think she would look really cute in a dress *blushes*

Barcha:

Lavinho, absent-mindedly pats her head: Aha... well, that is quite the surprise you made for us, little lady.

CD!Yn: Yeah, sorry about keeping it a secret.

Otoya, slides next to her and put an arm around her shoulder: So, wanna go out? I know the perfect spot around here

Bachira, pouting and trying to pull Yn away: Get your dirty hands off of her, playboy!

Lavinho: You both leave her alone!

JFA was meanwhile calling Anri and Ego on every phone available. The calls varied either between scolding them for keeping this a secret, or offering to transfer Yn into the female national team.

Ego: Absolutely not! She is not leaving this facility and the JFA can't demand that either.

Anri: Yep! Yep! Besides, we will have now a person more to help with practices!

World 5:

Loki: So you are a girl?

CD!Yn: Yes, you took this surprisingly well.

Loki, blushing a little: Well, it was weirder to me that you showed much more empathy to my situation than the rest. This is very mild.

Pablo and Adam are meanwhile in a corner thinking of ideas to protect her from the boys on her team.

Dada: Don't worry, little lady. We will protect you in case this causes you trouble

CD!Yn: Huh? But I don't need protection-

Luna, pats her on the head: If anyone says anything, we will shut them up. Now, what did you say about your parents forcing you into this?

Pablo: I need addresses and names

Adam: Preferably now

CD!Yn gulps in fear as she saw the dark shadows looming over the World 5.

CD!Yn, thinking: should have kept my mouth shut

The rest of the world was either shocked or not that much surprised. The rest of the week is either spent on trying to figure out how Yn was outperforming the rest, while the other part was arguing over who would be the better boyfriend for her.

[sinofwriting]

Causing Problems - Max Verstappen

Words: 2,365 Summary: After learning about his girlfriends first time, it’s safe to say that Max is not happy. Note(s)/Warnings: Leclerc!Reader, Talks of Sex/Losing Virginity. Mentions/Talks of Underage Sex. Past Pierre/Reader. Also there is french here, didn’t use google translate, but still used a translator, so sorry if any of it’s wrong.

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“Don’t judge me.” His brows raise and he can’t help but smile. “What could I ever judge?” She shoots him a disbelieving look, but sighs. “I was fourteen.” His eyes widened. “See judge!” He shakes his head, “no, no. No judgment, just,” he pauses unsure how to phrase it. “Lorenzo and Charles let you have a boyfriend at fourteen?” She snorts, ten years had passed and the two and now Arthur wrinkled their nose at the idea of her with a boy. They were somewhat fond of her and Max together. “No, I,” she pauses, feeling herself get a little flustered as she thinks about who and how she lost her virginity.

“It was a friend.” Her voice is a little fond, but she squeezes Max’s hand letting him know it’s not the person she’s fond of but rather just the memory. Her eyes flicker upwards to meet the Dutch’s eyes. Seeing how warm they are and his earnest nod to continue, she does.

“We were in France for a race.” She squeezes his hand again, “you won that one.” She tells him, smiling at his eyes crinkling at her pause. “We decided to stay with his family for the night instead of at the racetrack or just driving home. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go down to the basement, hoping to wear myself out by uh,” she pauses trying to think of the word in English. “Pacing?” He offers, having seen her do it a few times. She nods, smiling wide. “Yes, pacing. But when I got there, he was also there unable to sleep. We talked for a bit and then things got a bit tense and we ended up having sex.” She shrugs, with a little laugh. “It was a little odd since we both hadn’t done it before. But it was good.” “Did you orgasm?” He can’t help but ask. “Surprisingly, yes.” A flare of jealousy hits him at the knowledge that some fourteen year old kid got a girl off his first time having sex, while he didn’t when he was eighteen. But it leaves just as quickly as it came, shock replacing it with her next words. “But after all the French are known for being generous lovers and Pierre is quite French, no?” She laughs. “Pierre?” He asks, brain struggling to comprehend what she said. “Yes, Pierre.”

The confirmation makes him a blink and god he can’t believe the balls on the French driver. Charles was insanely overprotective. Then again, if Charles had any idea what his best friend and little sister had done he wouldn’t be alive but at the bottom of the river.

Then a thought strikes him, Pierre and her weren’t not the same age. A fourteen year old virgin didn’t make her cum but rather a seventeen year old one and suddenly anger is boiling in his stomach.

“He was seventeen.” His voice is surprisingly blank. “Yes, Pierre is three years older than me.” She looks at him, worryingly. “Max, are you okay?”

—

“Gasly!” The frenchman’s head jerks to the left at the sound of his last name in such anger. He stares wide eyed at the dutch driver. His jaw was twitching, face red, and fists clenched. He had only seen Max this angry a couple of times before but never was it directed at him. “Max.” He ends up saying, eyes flickering around the room. Hoping that Charles, Daniel, Lando, Alex, or George know what’s going on, but they all look just as confused. His eyes catch on Y/N, who's looking at Max with wide eyes of her own. “Fourteen.” The word is gritted out and Pierre’s eyes are back on him, more confusion filling him. “What?”

He couldn’t think of anything that would make Max this mad involving the number fourteen. Lap fourteen had been fine this race. They hadn’t yet gotten to race fourteen of the season. It couldn’t be the year 2014, they didn’t have any contact that year.

“Fourteen.” Max repeats, putting a weird emphasis on the word as it comes out quieter than before. Pierre’s eyes flicker to the only girl in the room, hoping she’ll know what it’s about and when his eyes move to look at her it hits him and his eyes are moving back to Max. Understanding him. “Oh, fourteen.” “Yes,” the Dutch driver’s jaw twitches again. “Fourteen.”

He can’t help but glance around the room taking in how the other guys are still looking at Max and now him in confusion. He notes that Charles has gotten up, clearly ready to interfere. Get in between them if it comes down to it. And Pierre winces. There would be no getting out of this. He’d have to come clean and perhaps lose Charles’ friendship forever.

“Would you like to hit me and then talk? Or talk and then hit me?” He offers Max, figuring that no matter what he’d end the night with some bruises. Suddenly she’s standing in between them, gently resting a hand on Max’s chest. “There won’t be any hitting. Words only.” She tells Max, her eyes flickering to her brother as she says it. His expression of confusion only deepened at the words also directed towards him as he sat back down.

She pushes Max to sit down on the floor next to Daniel and a space between him and Charles where she would sit in a moment. She turns to face Pierre.

“Je suis désolé, pierre.” I’m so sorry, Pierre. She apologizes, twisting her fingers together in a way that makes him wince. He shakes his head, standing and maybe he shouldn’t but he pulls her into a hug. Keeping his hands clearly in Max’s sight. There was no need to make him any madder. “Non, bébé calmar. Tu ne t'excuses pas. C'est bien.” No, baby squid. You don't apologize. It's fine. He pulls away from her, giving her hand a squeeze before taking a step back. “C'est à vous de partager.” It is for you to share. “Ce n'est pas seulement le mien.” It is not just mine. He shakes his head, had he hoped that Charles would never know, yes. But he had always known that one day he’d find out. He could only be happy that he got a decade more of his friendship. “C'était toujours le tien.” It was always yours. She looks like she is going to argue more and he expects her to. It was such a Leclerc thing to do, argue until you got your way. But she doesn’t. She gives him another sorry look before sitting in between Max and Charles. Ignoring the soft nudge that her brother gives her.

“Max,” Pierre starts to say, but stops not sure what to say, what to do. Did the younger driver want an apology? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t something he could apologize to Max for. The only person he really could offer an apology to was Charles and that was only for not telling him sooner.

Pierre and Y/N had spoken about it after it happened. It wasn’t something they could really ignore or pretend didn’t happen. They had even spoken about it a little over a year ago when Kika had found out. Kika made a joke about it as they all went for dinner, a little wine drunk, but hoping to see Pierre get a little flustered. He nearly smiles at the thought of Kika. She really was amazing, far better than he deserved, and her easy acceptance of what happened between them when they were so young.

“Fourteen, Pierre. She was fourteen.” Max’s voice draws him out of his thoughts. “Yes, and I was seventeen.” His acknowledgement makes Max wince and he catches Alex’s wide eyes and knows that he’s realized what this about or at least has a good idea of it. “And you just,” Max starts, before shaking his head. “That was fine with you?” “I wouldn’t do it again, if that’s what you are asking.” Pierre sighs when Max’s expression doesn’t change. “Max, your issue with this is the age difference. And I imagine it’s worse because of Kika, yes?” Max nods. He presses his lips together, murmuring to himself in french under his breath. “I never intended for it to happen, Max. We were kids. Me less so, but still young, foolish.”

“What happened?” Charles speaks for the first time, looking between Pierre and Max. “What happened when you were seventeen?” Pierre sighs, but before he can speak, she does. “Charles, do you remember when you were fifteen, we went to that race in France and we stayed with Pierre’s family for the night?” He nods after a second. “Yes, Papa didn’t want to stay at the track or drive home that night.” “I couldn’t sleep that night, so I went down to the basement so I could pace.” “You still do that.” Charles interrupts her, the words fond. “Yes. But Pierre was also there, he couldn’t sleep either. We ended up talking.” Charles nods, because yes that made sense. She didn’t like pacing if someone else was in the room and awake. Would rather talk until she fell asleep. “Pierre and I,” she pauses before slipping into french. “nous avons fait l'amour.” we had sex. “Non.” No. His mouth is open, disbelief in his eyes. “Non. Vous deux ne l'avez pas fait.” No. You two did not. “Charles,” she lays a hand on his arm. “We did. It was in the moment and never happened again.” “But you were so young. Just a baby.” His face is horrified and everyone in the room knows now what Max bursting in was about. Her brows furrow. “I was not a baby. I was fourteen.” Charles makes a pained noise and then his attention turns to Pierre, a fire in his eyes.

“You!” He points at Pierre. “How could you! She’s my sister. My baby sister!” He puts his hands up. “We didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I went down to the basement to watch tv because I couldn’t sleep. Not to have sex for the first time with your sister.” His fists clench, wanting to say something more, but unable to say anything but, “Je suis désolé, Charles. J'aurais dû,” I'm sorry, Charles. I should have, “Non.” Charles shakes his head, stopping him. “I don’t want to hear it. You should have told me sooner. Not wait so long. I need time. She was a baby, Pierre.” He says the last sentence quietly and Pierre knows that his insistence makes no sense to her or the rest of the people in the room, but he understands.

He had been the one to hold Charles after his father made him promise to always take care of her, to watch over her, to protect her. Had cemented that she was his baby sister, she needed protection, to Charles. Had promised to help Charles with that promise.

“I need time, Calamar.” His voice is gentle, but there's a raw element to it. “Of course, Charles.” As he stands to look around the room, he has to look away at the different looks some of the drivers give him. Moving out of the weird sort of circle the driver’s had formed when they first entered Charles’ room hours ago, he stops just before the entryway.

“Y/N if,” “I know, Pierre.” She stops him before he can continue, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Give Kika my love.” He huffs out a laugh. “Of course.” And with that he slips out of the room.

—

“Are you better, Max?” She asks, when nearly an hour later they are back in his hotel room, a glass of wine in her hand. He winces, “I’m sorry. My anger got the better of me.” She nods, lips pressing together. A little embarrassment still lingering inside of her. It wasn’t Lando, Daniel, Alex, or George knowing. It was Charles. It was her older brother, her closest brother. She had never wanted Charles to know that much about her and Pierre. She knew just like Pierre even if they had hoped it wouldn’t come out, that it would. She had just figured it would come out that yes, they had sex together. It was one time, maybe that they were each other's firsts but that was it.

She didn’t want him to know that it was in France. After a race, in Pierre’s home. She especially didn’t want him to know that she had been fourteen. It made her shrink a little, knowing that he knew that. And yet she didn’t hate Max for letting that loose. She was a little angry with him, but it was her own fault. She should have never been so careless to let it slip that it was Pierre when he was close by. Should have waited for summer break, when they were in completely different countries.

“I’m angry with you.” She was not going to hide that. “I didn’t want Charles to know that. All of that. Pierre and I figured that at some point it would come out, but he was not supposed to know all of that.” “I’m sorry.” He apologizes again. “I,” he pauses. “My temper, it needs to be worked on.” She nods again, “You are better than before. You’ve grown much since.” She sighs, placing the glass down and turning to look at him. “I should have waited until summer break.” He shakes his head, “no, this was all me. And I’ll apologize to Pierre as well.” He looks a little pained at the thought. “Good. He deserves one.” “Yes, he does.”

She looks at him, taking in the regretful expression on his face. The way his body is slightly curled in. Grabbing her glass of wine, she tosses the rest of the glass back, before setting it back down and taking her shirt off.

“I’m going to take a shower.” She tells him, thumbs pressing between her skin and her pants as she starts to take them off. “You’re going to join me.” “I am?” She raises an eyebrow. “I am.” Max nods, eyes wide as he watches her completely strip. “Good. Hurry. It’ll be cold without you.” She tells him, before walking to the bathroom, the door slightly closed behind her as the sound of the shower fills the room.

---

Tagging: @lpab @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

[mt-oe]

Hi!!! Hope you're still doing alright because you said you were writing in the hospital 😭💦 whatever happens I hope you will recover soon and keep yourself safe/stay healthy!

And I want to say that I really like the way you write about Mizu, you write it in a way that doesn't look OOC and makes me feel like I'm in the story, through the way you write I can feel how much you spent. time and love to complete a story and I really enjoyed it 😭‼️ I'm a picky person when it comes to choosing fics to read about Mizu but your stories blew me away! ! I hope that in the future you will continue to give love to Mizu and continue to write Mizu x reader stories like that and I will continue to support you 😭🫶

Also, I have this idea I wanted to share it's about the reader being someone active on the internet like she always caught the trend and filming clips online like on tiktok or some, and sometimes makes videos with Akemi! She's always looked like a carefree person but in her private draft, she posts a lot of vids if not say all of them are about Mizu or Mizu and her. There's a video it writes "Wife reveal" on top and under is a clip of Mizu doing the random thing ever, and other are videos she posts about how much she loves Mizu and there are videos of their date. No one knows about this private video of her but some random day when the reader leaves the phone alone with Mizu, she gets bored and just wants to take a peek, the reader gives Mizu the password of her phone anyway and she sees all those videos, and gets all blushy when the reader gets back she being a tease and all, when Mizu ask why the reader leave it private she just said it's not like she doesn't like posting about Mizu, she does have public videos about Mizu and her, but those private clips look cringe and stuff, Mizu laughs at the reader cuteness and after they cuddling and get all lovey-dovey.

The rest is really up to you because I want to see more of Mizu's reaction or sum.

I just wanna share my idea, sorry if this gets long 😭‼️ please feel free to write this at any time if you find it interesting, I use Google Translate so I am sorry if there are grammar mistakes my English is not good 🥹 and remember to take care of yourself first!!💖💖

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for all the love /// I'm so happy to receive such kind words. Sometimes I think I'm really bad at writing fanfics since my English isn't that good either and I often find myself comparing my works to others, but messages like these make me turn into goo and I'm so glad that my efforts are able to make you happy.

To those who sent kind messages too, I'm sorry for not replying to them in this manner. I like to go back to them when I feel a bit down about my writing so I want to avoid the hassle of having to scroll through my works ;; All of you really cheer me up I swear <3

How do I even recover from how much I'm melting ///

Please take care of yourself too and I hope that everyone continues to love Mizu too <3

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

note/s: username mentioned is fake

Giggles and the sound of soft conversations filled with laughter and genuine excitement enveloped the small cafe you had decided to go to with your friend as a way to relax before finals started. The two of you had decided to go on a journaling date together and were excitedly taking pictures of your setup.

"But wouldn't it be cuter if we put the coffee here instead?"

"Let's see—oh shit the ice is melting. Could you pass the napkin?"

"Here. Hurry!"

"W-Wait it might drip on the stickers"

After a bit of fuss, a relieved sigh could be heard from the two of you before the soft clink of the coffee cup being placed on the table. The two of you checked how the setup would look under the camera before Akemi flashed you a thumbs up.

With her signal, both of you started taking pictures and videos. Ideas on how you were going to edit the clips were already running through your mind. "Are you going to use a template or no?" you asked, turning to face your friend.

Lowering down her phone, Akemi put a contemplative look on her face before shrugging. "I saw someone do a cute new edit on Tiktok. I want to try it but it might not fit my feed's aesthetic soooo I'm not sure. What do you think?"

"Wait let me see." She opened up the app before tapping on the video to show you. After watching the video, you looked at her with an equally contemplative face. "I think you're better off editing from scratch. It totally doesn't fit your feed."

"Awww damnit," she sighed with a playful smile on her face. You stuck your tongue out at her, scrunching your nose, a smile tugging up your lips at her laughter.

Friendly dates like these were definitely one of your favorite things in the world. It all started during freshman year when you had just moved in town and had absolutely no one to talk to. Luckily, your seat mate was quite the angel and had talked to you first.

At first, you were quite shy, especially considering how your hobby of vlogging and editing things was something you thought was cringe to say out loud. However, to your surprise, Akemi was more than supportive and even helped you in setting up an Instagram account just for your reels. Through her encouragement, you started gaining the courage to try photo editing and your interest in sharing and documenting the events in your life through posting on social media snowballed into an even bigger hobby.

An hour more of chatting and planning your next content, the sound of a motorbike could be heard before the wind chime by the cafe's entrance rang softly. The soft scraping of wood against wood creaked behind you before the sound of someone setting their things down. You didn't need to look back to know that your girlfriend had arrived and just didn't want to interrupt the conversation. Who knows? Maybe she was listening in on it too.

You met Mizu a few years ago in a college party. Akemi had invited you to come since you opened up to her that you were having a difficult time getting to know other people. However, the sweat, the smell of booze mixed with something you could not identify, along with being pushed by the people dancing and moving around was too much for you. Before your friend could drag you along to meet another person, you were already out the door, smoking in the yard.

Meeting someone who had the same idea as you was the least thing you expected to happen, but that's exactly what happened. As you sat down on the garden chair, you heard the soft scraping of another chair pulled beside you. Your eyes scanned the figure, observing their features.

Tall, handsome, quite cold, but at the same time, alluring.

If the night was a person, you were pretty sure they would look like this.

Feeling your gaze, the stranger turned to look at you, making you turn away. However, unable to resist, your eyes glanced at them before going back to pack of cigarettes you had brought only to find out that you had none left. Groaning, you pocketed the empty pack, hand toying with your lighter.

Though the person with you didn't seem to want to talk to you, she suddenly lifted up her own pack for you to get one of her's. You looked at her, taking her nod of approval as a sign to get one. An incredibly awkward silence took both of you as you placed the cigarette between your lips and lit it up.

Taking a deep hit out of it, you cleared your throat slightly before looking up at her. "Seven Stars? I never heard of this brand before," you tried to strike up a conversation, body tense as hell. You internally cursed yourself for even trying to break the ice and possibly making the scene more awkward than it already was.

Immediately, her sharp blue eyes snapped to look at you, burning holes into you, seemingly studying your features. The few seconds that seemed like an eternity to you finally passed and she lit her own cigarette up.

"Yeah, it's from Japan," she replied, blowing a puff of smoke out. Your eyes widen a bit at the sound of her voice. You had expected something a bit deeper, maybe a little less rough? But god, her voice was more attractive than you expected. "I...I see," you replied, instantly regretting how weak you sounded.

Silence and the sound of your exhales were the only sounds of that enveloped both of you. With the newfound attraction you had for this stranger, you mustered up the courage to speak again. "So what brings you here?" you asked, trying to strike up another conversation. She let out a soft grunt as she looked over at you again. "A friend dragged me here."

Her eyes widened as the sound of your laughter reached her ears. Raising an eyebrow, she turned to look at you with a seemingly annoyed expression. "What?" You shook your head at her before taking in another puff. "Sorry, sorry. I just didn't expect us to be in the same situation," you replied, noting how her features softened.

To your surprise, an almost unseen smile ghosted her lips. "A pain, isn't it?" she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Oh tell me about. I'm almost scared to drink whatever they mixed in there," you joked. The sound of her laughter warmed your cheeks, the warmth and silk-like smoothness of her chuckles melting you.

"Want to stay here instead?"

"Sure."

After the little exchange, both of you found out that the same friend dragged both of you to the party. Through Akemi's help, the two of you were able to meet more often, exchanging contact information and messaging each other. One thing led to another and soon you found Mizu handing you a bunch of flowers, asking you to be her girlfriend.

Surprisingly enough, despite being extremely introverted and closed off, Mizu was extremely supportive of your hobby. At the start of your relationship, you were very hesitant to ask her for help. Though you wanted to take cute clips of your dates, you'd resort to hiding it from her, taking videos from discrete angles.

But nothing really gets past Mizu's eyes.

She definitely confronted you for it which led to you explaining your hobby and showing her your accounts. As expected, she was a bit skeptical about it at first. But soon enough, she found herself watching your clips, reels, and vlogs on her free time, while she ate, before she slept. Now, she's the one suggesting to go on cute dates for you to film, for you to go out with your friends so you could film cute and trendy dances together, and even hold the camera for you. She even learned all your 'good' angles and learned how to take videos and pictures of you. The surprise on your face when she first insisted that you took photos of your food was priceless.

Out of pure curiosity, she'd sometimes ask if she could see your account using your phone. It was a silly request but you always obliged since you had nothing to hide after all. Her heart would swell with all the traction your posts got. She loved that so many people loved her girlfriend too.

Of course, you dragged her in some of your videos too, making sure that they weren't too awkward for her. Simple matching OOTD fits videos, giving her a short moment in your vlogs, and cute couple trends that weren't too cheesy. You always made sure to ask her for consent to put clips of her in your videos, making them as short or as long as she allowed and only showing the clips she was comfortable with.

Though there were times when your love for her would become overwhelming and you just have the urge to edit cute clips of her. You thought Mizu wouldn't really appreciate so much of herself seen on your public accounts so you secretly made a private account just to dump all those videos in. Videos of her cooking (and sort of failing), during training, and more random clips during your dates. There were some cute ones and some that were definitely heating the place up.

Mizu would never know about this though. You didn't like keeping secrets from your girlfriend, but this one would be your only exception.

The coffee in your cups soon emptied and sticker sheets were exchanged as you and Akemi finished up your little get together. After exchanging your goodbyes and waiting for Akemi's driver to fetch her, Mizu helped you put your helmet on before helping you up her motorbike to go home.

As soon as the two of you got home, you wasted no time telling her everything that happened. From the drinks you ordered to the gossips about Akemi's ex-boyfriend, you did not miss a single detail. And though Mizu appeared uninterested, you could tell by the way her body subtly turned towards you as she cleaned up a bit that she was interested.

After tidying up a bit, the two of you sat in front of the television with you on the carpet with your laptop, editing the clips you took, and Mizu on the sofa watching the new episode of the series she discovered.

Some time later, your girlfriend grew uninterested in the series she was watching and had started taking breaks from it more often, standing up to do random things such as making coffee, bringing you snacks, giving you a random plushie from your shared bedroom.

A small snort left your lips as you watched her refill your coffee for the nth time. "Love...if you're so bored with the show, you can just drop it," you snickered at her, gratefully taking the mug from her and taking a sip. Your lover let out a soft exhale from her nose and rolled her eyes. "I'm not bored," she argued, sitting back down on the sofa. "They're just talking an awful lot."

"Well you need to listen through it if you want to understand their lore." You took another sip of the hot liquid and set the mug down on the coffee table. You could hear her huff from behind you, probably rolling her eyes again. "I don't need to know all this to predict who dies next."

You laugh at her impatience, responding with an eyeroll of your own. Feeling the urge to relieve yourself, you stood up and stretched. "Could you hold on to this for a second? I'll be quick," you said, handing her your phone. She quickly yet carefully took the device in her hand, giving you a small nod before you went to the bathroom.

Mizu sighed and leaned back on the sofa. Though she did deny being bored, she was definitely bored out of her wits. She wanted to see fighting and cool scenes, not a bunch of dialogues. Wasn't action scenes the point of watching action shows?

Unable to take it, she picked up your phone and unlocked it. None of you minded going through each other's phone. It wasn't something the two of you did out of mistrust, but rather, just to check the random things that went through each other's feed out of sheer boredom and curiosity. The difference in content was entertaining, okay?

Tapping on the Tiktok app, Mizu fully expected a plethora of cat videos and celebrity edits to come. However, to her surprise, the account that was open was not one that she was familiar with. Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

wife.dump was the username shown on the profile. Her confusion continued to escalate as she saw the profile picture which was a flower that she recognized as the one she gave you when she asked you to be hers.

Clarity soon took the situation as curiosity got the best of her and she started snooping around the account, looking through the liked videos, then the reposts, and finally the private videos saved in the account. At first, the likes and reposts seemed pretty normal, mostly about cats and how to cook certain foods. But then, as she got to the videos, she realized that it was all...her.

Her making breakfast.

Her making coffee.

Her fixing her motorcycle.

Her, her, and her.

All the videos were edited so cutely too. Admittedly, she wasn't as good as editing as you but she could still definitely see how well these videos were made. From the color grading, sequencing, and even the song choice and timing. Each video with a cute caption talking about what was going on in the video or just plain talking about the things you love about her. She could tell you put a lot of effort into these.

Seriously.

How cute could you be?

Her eyes darted to the bathroom door, checking to see if you were about to go back, then back to your phone. She continued to watch each videos, a dust of pink on her cheeks deepening with each one.

'Wife reveal' and its a video of her doing random things. A clip of her frowning while looking for you, then smiling once she spots you. A clip of her looking a bit nervous as you show the extremely (almost dangerously) red looking chicken wings she cooked. A clip of her keeping a straight face during a round of poker.

She didn't even know some of these clips existed.

Just as she was about to watch the next one, the sound of your strangled whine surprised her. Setting the phone down in one quick motion, her eyes lit up like a deer caught in headlights at the sight of your surprised yet extremely embarrassed face.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you almost screamed, charging towards her and scrambling to get your phone back. Immediately, your lover got up and reached the phone away from you. "Love! Stop it!" you whined at her, feeling your face heat up from sheer embarrassment.

A smirk crept up her lips at your continuous attempt to grab your phone back. The embarrassment and panic continued to bubble through your system as you tried pushing her back down onto the sofa which was definitely a challenge in itself with a girlfriend who took a bachelor's degree in strength building, major in roughhousing, minor in being a rascal.

Several attempts later, the reality of your lover's incredibly strong build sunk in as you tried catching your breath, glaring up at her. Her clear blue eyes, hinted with a bit of mischief, stared back at you before she opened her mouth to speak.

"Wife reveal, huh?" she teased, chuckling as you groaned out loud.

Defeat took over you and you found yourself wrapping your arms around her with your head on her chest. "You're annoying," you huffed at her, words lacking seriousness.

A deep chuckle reverberated from her throat and slowly, she set your phone down to wrap her arms around you as well. "That's no way to talk to your wife," she teased, voice softer than before. You pursed your lips at her and snuggled against her chest. "You better sleep with one eye open, love," you playfully threatened, making her laugh.

You wouldn't admit it but you were relieved that Mizu didn't react badly upon finding out about your secret account.

"With what I've just seen, I hardly think you could do anything harsh especially to me," she teased back, slowly pulling you down onto the sofa with her, guiding you to her lap. "Why did you keep your little secret a secret from me though?"

You looked at her and sighed, blush deepening a bit more. "It's just...you're such a private person and I didn't want to overstep your boundaries," you admitted. "But I couldn't help it, especially when I rewatch the clips I took and you're just...urgh.."

Her hold on you tightened as you snuggled further against her body, warmth running deeper than just physical. "You're just so gorgeous," you finished, sighing deeply. "Every time I see you, it feels like my heart turns into a goopy mess. Even the little things you do is so..so...It's so fucking cute."

The mischievous, teasing smile on her face softened with your explanation. A huge part of her was glad that you found her so damn attractive that you couldn't help yourself and the other part was almost in disbelief. Did you seriously find her that attractive?

Damnit, you're so fucking cute.

Mizu ran her fingers through your hair, letting you rest your head on her shoulder. A bit of silence going on between the two of you before she gently kissed the top of your head reassuringly. "Love, I don't mind," she said with a soft fond smile. "It's quite adorable, actually."

"But aren't you uncomfortable?" you asked, finger tracing down her throat, feeling the soft vibrations as she chuckled. "I could take it down if you feel off about it."

Her heart swelled at how much you cared for her own comfort and for considering her so much. All she could think of was how lucky she was to have such a caring lover. Taking your hand in hers, she placed small kisses against the pads on your fingers, each tender and loving.

"I could never be uncomfortable with something that brings you so much joy."

[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

[strawberryblue-blog]

Fermin: female reader x Fermin Lopez where they have been dating for a while but recently they had problems & have been having stupid fights. The reader has been stressed with school and him with pressure brought by his recognition in the first team. Maybe he’s acting weird & distant, which leads to a fight between them and them taking a break. Angst plot where the reader has an accident ( car accident or something smaller- up to you) and Fermin confirms how much he loves her and doesn’t want to loose her. Fluff ending where he takes care of her during her recovery.

Comeback to me —Fermin Lopez.

summary: read the request.

warnings: none. fights, bad words, car accident, injuries, etc. sad, angst, cute, fluff.

words: +4.5k

#SEXYNOTE: I apologize if there are errors. I use the translator since English is not my first language. I hope the person who asked for this enjoys it as much as i enjoy writing it.

Thanks for the support 🎀🪽

You sighed as you flipped through the channels on the television while holding the ice cream spoon to your mouth. At least ten minutes ago you were looking for something to watch on TV but couldn't find anything interesting.

Fermin was supposed to be here a while ago but there was no sign. You looked at your phone to see if he had left a message but nothing. You had prepared lunch and had had to eat after it was getting late, surely the training had been delayed. He hadn't seen your message and he wasn't answering your calls either so you were starting to worry.

You weren't going to go to sleep until he came back or at least you would hear from him. So you sat on the couch watching something with your bowl of ice cream. Your thoughts were scattered, you couldn't stop thinking if something had happened but you didn't want to think negative. Sometimes it was delayed because the coach gave them an extra talk or they missed their schedule and stayed in training.

You turned your phone back on and immediately sent a new message but still no news. You let out an exhausted sigh again, throwing the controller away from you and eating more of your ice cream.

You didn't want to bother him so much, you were having a hard time and bothering him was the last thing you wanted to do if he was out of the house. Lately you had been focused on your studies and had left his relationship a little bit but you tried to wait for him in the evenings, make food or clean the house so he wouldn't have to worry about everything after training. You had to admit that you felt your relationship was a bit distant these days, you hadn't even seen enough of each other this week. The fights had been constant over the smallest things and you wanted to apologize for that, so now that you were free you had decided to prepare everything for Fermin and wait for him.

After a while, when you had finished all the ice cream in your bowl, you heard the sound of the door opening. Worried, you watched Fermin enter with his bag, but you sighed at the sound of him coming in all right.

"Hello" he greeted somewhat concerned to see you sitting there.

"Hi Fermin" you said with a smile.

"What are you doing awake?" he asked putting down his things. He seemed surprised to see you sitting there.

You raised your eyebrows in confusion.

"I was waiting for you" you mentioned. He nodded taking off his sweatshirt. "Was training late?" you wanted to know.

"No, it was normal" he said sitting down next to you.

You grimaced in confusion. "A lot of traffic?" you asked again.

"No" he denied simply.

"I made you dinner, I told you this morning that I would be home after school and that I would take care of everything" you told him sighing.

Fermin remained silent.

"I texted you, I even called you" you insisted ballasting the phone that was in your hand.

You had spent at least an hour and a half texting him with your heart in your mouth from the scare you were having.

"I took Gavi home and he invited me to dinner, sorry I forgot to tell you" he commented and your heart broke.

I forgot to warn you? You didn't mind him staying at Gavi's, but you had told him you were staying home today and had been working hard on his dinner. You would have liked to have gotten a message of his warning too, at least to go to bed early.

"Okay" you said getting up from the couch.

Clearly things between you were not right some time ago. I don't know why you had tried to do everything for Fermín, you should have talked about it before. You felt forgotten and offended, he seemed to show zero interest in spending time with you. In the morning you had tried to talk to him but you had to leave early for class and Fermín was still sleeping but you had made sure to let him know that you were in charge of dinner.

Almost on the verge of tears, you walked silently to the table. You put the dishes and the food together, putting everything away in its place. You were tired and wanted to go to bed as quickly as possible. You had come up a hard morning and your effort hadn't paid off at all, so you were overcome with this situation.

"Are you mad?" you heard him coming. You turned your back to him, washing what was left in the sink.

"No" you said slowly.

You weren't angry, you were disappointed. You were tired of this same situation, the pointless fights that went through you every day. So you didn't want to fall into the same thing.

"Yes you are" he snorted coming up behind you.

It seemed like Fermin was more mad at you than you were at him. why was he even mad? It was unfair. You had been the one who had been stood up after preparing a whole dinner for him.

"It's just that you could have at least texted, I could have gone to rest earlier" you tell him resting your hands on your waist as you finish.

"That's all you do!" he yells and his tone of voice catches you off guard. "If you're not sleeping, you're out of the house or studying - all day!" he raises his voice again.

His reproach freezes you. He's right, your last few days have been studying, going to class and going back to sleep in an endless loop. It was the end of the semester and you had exams, reports, group work, etc. You couldn't blame him, you also felt like you were giving up on the relationship but you also felt tired and needed to pass. Studying a demanding college degree was stressful and your days were getting harder and harder but you didn't give up.

"You get mad because I went out with the guys one night but you are never here, you don't even ask me how training went, you don't care about me at all" he says angrily and you look at him incredulously.

Of course you care about him. Of course you care about his training, but you can't neglect your studies either. You didn't see each other much and you kept different schedules, it was clear that it was hard to see each other and talk. But you always worried about him, you thought about if he was doing well and if he needed anything he would come for you.

"You think it's my damn fault I have a demanding career?" you say in the same way he does.

I wasn't going to put all the blame on you, not when he didn't seem to be there for you either. In the mornings you'd call him to have breakfast together but he'd say he'd stay in bed a while longer and you'd let him, since he used to train late. But when you tried to get close, he wouldn't seem to let you.

"I try to do the best I can every day, this week I was a little more free and I told you so, Fermin!" you reproached him in a shout.

You were a little upset and angry because of his attitude, not because of the recent situation. He wasn't the only one suffering, you were also stressed and felt you couldn't take it anymore. It's true, you had become strangers these last weeks but now you were trying to fix things and Fermin didn't even show up at the house.

"Don't blame me for everything!" you squeak out.

You want to get away from him, walk to the bedroom and go to sleep. You know that if you keep fighting this will have another ending and you're not at your best time to argue. You were already exhausted enough to listen to his reproaches.

"You know what it takes to be on the first team, it's my dream and you don't care!" he yells when you try to pull away. "I needed you to be there for me but you do nothing but sit between your books and you don't even remember the games!"

Your heart breaks when you hear him. You had forgotten about watching his first team games and now you felt worse than before. But he was being unfair. You were proud of Fermin, you always had been. You were so supportive of his dream and with your schedule you hadn't been able to be there for him as much. Playing in the first team was important to Fermín and you knew he had worked hard but it wasn't all about him. It was a fifty-fifty relationship.

"Did you even ask how I did on my final exams?" you snatch. "You weren't interested either and it's important to me too, Fermin!" you shout back with tear-filled eyes.

You are angry, sad and disappointed. With you and with Fermín. You have both hurt each other with your words and your distancing. It's both your fault, you can admit it. And you want to do everything to recover your relationship, you even prepared a delicious dinner for him, you wait for him until late hours and now you are the one who cries.

Fermin sighs with his hands on his head. He won't say anything else. He always does when you argue. Arguments had become more frequent in your relationship and even the slightest thing was the trigger for a fight. You were tired of it, you were tired of putting up with it.

"Can't you if you want be happy for me?" he says after a silence. "You always put yourself first, this started because of you and it won't end because of you" his words stab like daggers in your chest.

"You started it!" you scream but sigh calming yourself down. "It's always going to be my fault, isn't it?" your voice drops in pitch and you force yourself to calm this down.

You can't believe it but continuing to add fuel to his fire is not the solution. He's angry and he won't change his mind until one of you gives in and you're willing to be that person. You love him. You've always wanted the best for him, but that doesn't mean you're giving up on yourself.

"You're not the victim!" she insists again and you lower your arms in surrender.

"I'm sorry, okay?" you say sincerely trying to calm things down. "It's been a rough few days for both of us, we don't have to do this."

He lets out a snort. He sighs and you can see his hard stare shatter like glass. He shakes his head from side to side, thinking. You want to speak but the words don't come out of your mouth, you're both at a loss. You're scared of what he's thinking, because you know him so well you know the next thing he says could be as good or as bad.

"I think we'd better take some time."

His words are enough to overwhelm what little was left healthy in your heart. Your eyes leak endless tears and you want to refuse, to take him in your arms and hug him but you're hurt and you can't respond. You are paralyzed. You stand there as you watch him dodge you to enter the room, watch him take his things. You walk slowly to the door and lean against it.

"Fermin" you whisper in pain. "No..." you ask sobbing.

Maybe he's exaggerating, you want to think. But it seems very real. His mind seemed made up, he was very confident putting his bag together. You walk up to him and try to grab his things and take them out of the bag but Fermin stops you, wrapping his hands gently around your hands. Your eyes say 'what are you doing' But Fermin's eyes say nothing in response.

"We're hurting each other, y/n, we can't go on like this" he says looking at you. You deny in tears. "Look at you, look at me."

You're a mess and as much as he looks whole, you know he's broken just like you. Deep down you know he's right but you keep refusing, you can't let go.

"We can fix it..." you try to say but he interrupts you.

"I know, Y/n" he drops everything and comes so close to you. "But we need it, we both need time, we each have to make a decision" his hands wrap around your face full of tears and pain.

You keep shaking your head, you don't need time. You just need to rest but not from Fermín. You love him, you have a relationship of four years and you don't want it all to end because of a damn fight. It's not just that though and you know it. You saw the pain in his eyes, Fermin was suffering. You didn't want to give in to this thing you two had, you couldn't. But both he and you, you knew perfectly well that this was for the best.

"It will only be until this gets better" he says caressing you.

"And if it doesn't get better?" you ask trembling. "Will we give up everything we have?" you say again.

He doesn't respond and that makes you swallow saliva that feels like poison in your system. Instead, his lips kiss your forehead softly and you feel your whole body go numb. You wrap his waist around your waist and hug yourself tightly to him. His warmth invades you and you let yourself be carried away in the feeling of his last embrace.

Your heart bleeds, your mind is drifting, you don't want to let him go but you have to.

"I love you, baby" he whispers in your ear.

"Come back to me, Fermin" you ask sobbing. Your boyfriend smiles at you and caresses your back one last time.

You feel your soul leave your body the very moment his arms let go of you, you stand there empty, your heart shattered. You see him take his things and he says goodbye with a last smile. A smile that hits you like an arrow in the chest, leaving you breathless as you watch his back disappear from his home. The home you had created and loved, now felt like a cold, empty apartment.

I can't bear to see him go but there is no choice. He asked you for time and you know you need it too. You both have neglected this relationship and neither of you are to blame, that's just the way it is. That's life, sometimes you get apples and sometimes you get stones. You get to your bed and fall into it with the memories of all the nights you slept together, his scent is still intact in your nose, in the sheets, in the air. You cry again and this time you let it all out.

You don't know how you will go on after this but at least you have to try, you need to think, you need time, you need to find yourself.

You need to find yourself in that relationship and in Fermin, you trust you. So time will tell.

At the end of the day, if there's one thing time can do, it's heal, right?

At least you pray so because you're not ready to let him go, you love him enough to end this.

'Comeback to me, please' you beg in your head wishing he would come back to you as soon as possible and that this was all a dream.

(...)

You stand in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection as tears slide down your cheeks. The echo of his words echo in your mind: "I need time". Each word weighs like a burden on your heart, and you feel sadness envelop you like a shadow.

You try to remember the exact moment when everything changed but the reasons fade away in tears and lost whispers. The photographs on the wall look back at you, capturing moments that now seem far away. Every corner of your room seems to contain the echo of her laughter, but now everything is shrouded in bitter silence.

After a few weeks, you had finally been able to get out of bed today. You hadn't even touched your college stuff, your friends used to bring you your notes and then you went back to bed. You hadn't seen Fermin since then, all his stuff was still here and you were beginning to wonder if he would ever come for it or just leave it there. You had had too much time to think and your decision remained the same, you loved Fermin and you didn't need more time. But you respected his decision and tried to stay out of it, you hadn't called him, you hadn't texted him. He seemed to be fine, now he was playing games with the first team, scoring goals, assists and playing very well. You were proud and still supported him from the couch at home, you hadn't told anyone about his "break up" you didn't even know if you had really broken up but it felt like one.

The phone remains in your hands, tempting you to dial its number but you stop yourself. You wonder if time will really heal the wounds or if it will only prolong the agony. As the nights grow longer, you sink into a sea of memories that seem to fade like a dream upon awakening.

Tears fall with the same intensity as broken promises and you cling to the hope that someday time will give you back the peace it took from you today. In the midst of sadness, you face the difficult task of letting go, even though every step seems like an abyss in your soul. But you have to move on, now that you are back to classes your mind will be occupied with other things and you will be able to recover. At least you hope so but everything has been harder since Fermin left and every time you remember something about him, you want to cry. But you kept forcing yourself to stay strong.

You grabbed your things, finishing getting ready. You texted your friend that you were leaving on a trip to look for her and you saw that the sky was dark gray, it was sure to rain at any moment, so you had to hurry to get to class before the rain.

The gray sky loomed over the city as you drove through the streets, drops began to fall from the sky in small amounts but as you kept going you could see the roads getting wet. The drops hit the windshield and visibility was reduced, making every turn a challenge. The rain was falling heavily, turning the streets into mirrors reflecting the lights of the city. You were concentrating on the steering wheel, fighting blurred vision. As you rounded a curve, the left wheel slipped in a puddle, and control of the car vanished in an instant, you did your best to regain control but in vain. The metallic sound of the crash echoed as your car crashed into the guardrail.

The impact left you dazed, adding to the shock of the accident, the smell of dampness and gasoline filled the air. When you opened your eyes, you noticed the tinkling of rain on the roof of your vehicle. The car had gone flying into the guardrail off the road but at least it hadn't rolled. Your heart was pounding and your pulse was trembling, you sighed trying to calm your shock. You were fine, it had only been a minor accident.

Your left leg hurt intensely but when you checked yourself, you noticed that the injuries seemed to be limited to minor cuts. However, the difficulty in moving your leg indicated deeper damage so you left it still.

You saw a group of people approach you and ask you if you were okay, they quickly assisted you and called the ambulance. Soon, the flashing red lights of an ambulance became visible in the rain. The paramedics carefully helped you out after they made a quick examination of what had happened, placing you on the stretcher as the water continued to fall mercilessly. The siren echoed in the night as they sped to the hospital, the lights of the city flickering in the fogged glass of the ambulance.

Entering the hospital was a whirlwind of bright lights, rushing voices and the steady murmur of rain. It was all right, you still wanted to call someone and as soon as you were asked for the number of a relative, you thought of Fermin. Normally he was the one you called when you had problems or needed something but now he wasn't feeling well, you didn't want to bother him, so you opted to tell your mother. Still dazed, you were taken to a room where the smell of disinfectant mingled with the dampness of your wet clothes. The doctors checked your wounds, confirmed the fracture in your leg and ordered rest. You never stopped thinking about Fermin at any moment, even when your mother was with you holding you back, you wanted him to be there too, he always was. And it didn't add up that your mother kept asking about him while you blatantly lied that he was busy with training.

They decided to keep you in the hospital for a day to check that everything was normal. They did the corresponding tests, prescribed medication for your bruises and pain. So now you were waiting for your mother who was supposed to bring food. You were lying down still thinking about the shock you had gone through when you heard the door, opened your eyes and found the figure of the boy who stole your sighs.

"Y/n" he sobbed running to you. He wrapped his arms around you completely, your senses responded to him immediately. Your heart raced and the pain in your body was gone, it was like pure magic.

A tear ran down your cheek as you felt his touch again, so delicate, so warm, so familiar as you remembered. You had missed him so much.

"It's my fault, i'm so sorry" he whispered still squeezing you. "I should never have left you, i was an idiot" he said chastising himself.

"No, Fermin" you said enjoying his embrace. "It's nobody's fault, it was an accident" you tell him trying to calm him down.

His eyes were red, probably because he had cried on the way to the hospital. His face was sad and worried, his grip touched you as if he had needed you all this time.

"I was so scared, I thought something had happened to you.... I-I" you cut him off.

"It's all right, i didn't mean to upset you" you smiled a little.

Your heart was happy to see him back, you missed so much his voice, his skin, his affection, everything. But you didn't want to give yourself false illusions so you kept on the sidelines. Everything had happened too fast, you were not over him and life had taught you a lesson. So you lived every moment as unique and tried to smile in spite of everything, you were safe and sound.

"You don't bother me, quite the contrary" he said kissing your forehead. "I'm glad to know that everything is fine, that you are well" he caresses your head and you nod.

"Mom called you?" you asked shyly. He nodded.

Did he tell her that you...? You wanted to ask but you felt shy under his deep gaze.

You had never been shy with Fermin but everything had changed. You felt ashamed of what had happened, the fights, the separation and now the accident. You didn't know how to react, so much had happened in such a short time. You wanted to be happy to have him back but you didn't know if he was going to stay and that truth hurt.

"I'll stay the night with you, is that okay? I told your mom she could go rest, I'll take care of you" he asked now, sounding friendly.

"Sure, of course" you whispered with a smile.

There was an overwhelming silence, the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds until Fermin lets out a big sigh that surprises you.

"I'm really sorry, Y/n" he says in shock. "I was an idiot, I don't know why I pushed you away" he continues.

You want to say things too but you let him do the talking first, you are afraid that now he will ask you for a definitive separation and you don't want to get hurt again. Things between you have changed and you feel that you are no longer the same but deep down you still love each other unconditionally as before. At least you feel that way and you have no doubt about it.

"I thought you didn't care anymore, you were into something else, I even thought you didn't love me anymore" he sits on the space left over on the bed and grips your hands deliriously. "I neglected you, i distrusted you and i hurt you" his eyes fill with tears.

Your chest hurts but not by accident but because of all the feelings that bloom from it. Your tears don't take long to come at the sight of him like this, shattered in you.

"I was selfish, i wanted time because i thought you felt different things too but you didn't. I love you so much, i don't want to be without you" his hands squeeze yours with every word and he makes you feel at home.

"Don't blame yourself, Fermin" you reply caressing his cheek. "It was both of us, i also distance and neglected you, we were both estranged".

"No, you didn't give up" he sobs. "I hurt you, i asked you for us to walk away, you wanted to fight for us, for me" he says disappointed.

You shake your head. Deep down you knew he wanted to fight too but you saw going through a bad time and maybe it was right. No one knows what is right or wrong, he had the right to ask for his time and you had the right to respect him.

"I thought every night about you, i wanted to call you, i wanted to see you, i wanted to touch you but i didn't deserve it, i hurt you" again his tears wrap his cheeks but you take care to wipe them away so his beautiful face doesn't get splashed with them.

You want to jump with happiness, hug him, kiss him, shout how much you love him, you want to go home with Fermin and go back to the way you were before. Your love for him is still intact deep in your heart, Fermin knows it and feels the same. You were made for each other, with all the good and the bad.

"I'm really sorry, love" he apologizes for the third time. You smile towards him with nothing more to say.

"Stop talking and kiss me" you ask desperate to feel his lips on yours again.

Fermin smiles and fulfills your wish, kissing you softly as if for the first time. It feels warm, tender and delicate, his sweet lips caress you gently and you let yourself go from the feeling of bliss. There are no words for the moment, you just enjoy his gentle kiss.

"When your mom called me and told me what had happened I was so scared, Y/n. I thought i was losing you and i couldn't let that happen" his hands take your face and pulls you closer to him.

Butterflies flutter in your belly like the first time, his hands sweat and your pulse quickens as you feel so close to him. You can't even think how much you miss having Fermin, touching him, feeling him, smelling him.

"I love you so much" he whispers. "I don't want time or space, i don't want to have you far away, i want to be with you, i want to fight for us, i want to have you and take care of you. I want to comeback to you" he says with his forehead on yours.

The feelings you have for Fermin bloom like flowers in spring, they had never faded, you felt every word like band-aids in your heart, his touch is like a pain reliever, his eyes on you are like the light of the sun itself. You are spellbound, you love him so much you can't help but smile.

"I'm so sorry, i love no one but you. I'm in love with you, every part of you, y/n" he says caressing you. "I regret what o said that night, i should never have doubted us, i'm not giving up on you ever again."

'I want to come back to you' the words he used seconds ago echo in your mind like an echo, you had used the same words the night it all ended.

'Come back to me, Fermin' you said through tears begging for him to come back that night. And he did. And that makes you immensely happy.

Your foreheads stay glued together for a few seconds as you pull apart from your kiss, your cheeks rosy, your eyes shining, your smiles contagious. He helps you settle in, just enough to make room beside you and leans against you. Your head rests on his chest and there is no pain, no sadness whatsoever. You are at peace, surrounded by what you love most, ready to recover and go home tomorrow.

Over the weeks, the pain lessened but the bond between you grew stronger. Since Fermin came home, everything had been better. He took it upon himself to take care of you every moment, to help you with your chores, to do things around the house, to pamper you and take care of you.

Together, you celebrated small triumphs in this new chapter: the first walk outdoors, the shared laughter during a movie and the simple moments that became significant.

When the day finally came that you were able to return to your normal life, you did so with a renewed appreciation for the beauty of routine and the value of unconditional support. Your "parting" not only marked a challenging chapter but also wove a narrative of resilience and love that would endure long after the traces of the moment faded. You were back to your old selves, only this time you supported each other no matter what. You trusted, you talked, you learned, you endured.

You were willing to find new ways to connect, to love and support each other. To build new memories that would last in their memories for the rest of their lives. The daily routine was transformed into a ballet of love and patience.

[cumulo-stratus]

Communication Issues

(GIF NOT MINE)

Plantonic!BAU team x french!reader

Description: reader is from France and lived there until he was 11/12 and then moved to america and his first language is french. He also has a little bit of an accent. Basically reader is new to the team and it is their first late night back home on the jet with him. And basically they learn that when hes tired he reverts back to his mother tongue.

CW: possible swearing, I can't think of anything else

A/N: I'm thinking of making a series about this, like just funny scenarios related to the reader being French, if y'all have any ideas let me know! Also reader is gonna be loosely based off me when im rly tired cus i get kinda giggly/floppy/goofy. ( also sry it's short)

French, translation

3rd person POV:

after a hard, and long case the team was very ready to go home. They had found a 9 yr old girl and rescued her from a man holding her in his basement to torture her. And even though it took the profilers almost 3 full days with almost no sleep to find her. To say they were tired was understatement. It was almost 2 am when they trudged onto the plane, all tired physically and emotionally. Y/N was the last on the plane and decided to take the couch to get some sleep. Just as he was sitting down Reid plopped down next to him. (Y/N and Reid liked to sit next to each other so they could read together)

“Désolé reid, je veux lire avec toi, mais je suis trop fatigué pour ça” (sorry reid, i wanna read with you but im too tired for that) you said to him, slightly slurring your words. “Huh?” Spencer looked up at you with a small crease between his eyebrows. The switch in language caught the rest the rest of the team off guard as well (evidently by the looks on their faces) you peered at them just as perplexed and asked “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” (Whats wrong?).

“Dont worry guys I’ll talk to him” said spencer with a little giggle at his new friends antics. Morgan gave spencer a little knowing look and eyebrow wiggle at his conversation with Y/N, despite having no idea what they were saying. “Mon biche, tu parle français maintenant, pas anglais.” (Darling, you’re speaking french right now, not english) says spencers with a small smile. a look of understanding dawned your features and you said “je suis?! Oh c'est pas grave, Oh, tu n'as besoin que de me comprendre de toute façon.” (I am?! Thats okay, you’re the only one who needs to understand me anyways) you say with a wink ad a giggle. Spencers cheeks went red and emily gave him a questioning look. “Y/N, tu fais quoi?” (y/n, what are you doing?). you just gave him a mischievous look before putting your head on his shoulder and snuggling into him to fall asleep. The rest of the team got bored of making fun of the pair and began their own conversations or trying to sleep. But after a minute or two the team heard and hushed but strict “shhhhh!” coming from their resident genius. “You guys are so loud! hes asleep!” said spencer’s while he gestured vicariously to the sleeping figure drooped over his left side. “hush up pretty boy, your little boyfriend over theres out cold dont worry about it.” said derek with a teasing smile. spencers cheeks turned even more red than before if hat was even possible and started stuttering about the sleep man not being his boyfriend. “okay, okay, hes not your boyfriend,” said derek with his hands up in surrender after spencer kept spluttering on about y/n not being his boyfriend.

(small time skip)

As the plane landed people began packing up their things and getting ready to get off the plane. But y/n and Spencer had moved and when the team looked over they found the two agents passed out on top of each other and snoring lightly.

THE END

[grimm-the-tiger]

Misadventures with Google Translate

I put Life Series quotes through Google Translate too many times. Please help me, I can't stop.

The Names

Bdubs -> Bduby

BigB -> Capital B

Cleo -> Language

Etho -> line

Gem -> Decoration

Grian -> Shooter

Impulse -> Road

Jimmy -> Jimmy

Joel -> Hurrah

Lizzie -> Lizzie

Martyn -> Martyne

Mumbo -> Explosives

Pearl -> Beer

Ren -> Ren

Scar -> Right

Scott -> Scott

Skizz -> Writing

Tango -> Background

The Watcher -> Inspector

Some highlights

Scott: this house Jimmy: And street. [Original line: "It's home?" "Home."]

Language: Be good to me: die for me. [Original line: "Do me a favor: Die for me."]

Lizzie: And I left this world the same way I entered it: troubled. [Original line: "And so I left this world just as I had entered it: confused."]

Shooter: Scar, I think we are spirit descendants and you are too busy catching fairies!! [Original line: "Scar, I think we're soulmates and you're too busy chasing fairies!"]

Scott: They tear up carpets and kill farm animals. It immediately burst into lava. [Original line: "They break carpet and kill cows. And they mine straight down into lava."]

Language: Look, if you have a lost father, you might lose it? [Original line: "Look, if you're gonna be an absent father, could you be at least absent?"]

Scott: Our theme is ABBA's summer house, is it there now? Dead metal?! [Original line: "Our theming was once Cottagecore ABBA, now it's what? Death metal?!"]

Martyne : Tell me something before you go. Why are you attached to the sun? Inspector: Hmmm... HE. It was never meant to be. He just wanted to look. [Original line: "Just... tell me one thing before I go. Why were you so set on Grian?" "Hmph... HIM. He was never meant to be there. He was only ever meant to watch."]

line: I'm a good person to have someone light my tree. [Original line: "I was a good person till somebody burned down my tree."]

Decoration: God, that seems like a recipe for anxiety. Yes I am. [Original line: "God, that sounds like a recipe for angst. Yeah, I'm in."]

Lizzie: Follow it! No friends! [Original line: "Ha! You've got no friends!"]

Beer: Something bad is happening here. [Original line: "Something wicked this way comes."]

Shooter: Here we show our true truth? For yourself or for someone else? Are we all excited? [Original line: "Is this where we show our true allegiance? To each other, and no one else? We turn on everyone?"]

Background: It's not fair, it's not fair, I'll come back to it. [Original line: "This is unjust, it's excessive, and I will return."]

Capital B: No holes! [Original line: "There is no hole!"]

Some notes

I thought it'd be funny if the translations I used were all into languages I either knew off the top of my head that the creators speak or are official languages where they live. This got really convoluted really fast, because Ren was the only person I could think of who speaks a language other than English and I completely ran out after French and Scottish Gaelic, so I added languages spoken by Hermitcraft members instead, then threw Maori on for good measure because New Zealand's close enough to Australia (sorry, New Zealand) and I couldn't find any aboriginal Australian languages on Google Translate. So the translation order roughly went Afrikaans -> French -> Scottish Gaelic -> German -> Swedish -> Polish -> Maori -> English.

Ren's line "Red Winter is coming, me laddie" line got translated as "The red winter is coming, my lady." Honestly, it still kind of works?

"Watcher" got translated as "Inspector", which gives me the mental image of Inspector Gadget in a Watcher costume.

I don't know where the extra e at the end of Martyn's name came from.

I don't know why Etho's name is the only name that got translated into lowercase.

The fact that Mumbo's name somehow got translated as "Explosives" made me start cackling as soon as I saw it.

There were several points where Grian's name got translated as "The Sun" instead, probably because "Grian" is the word for "Sun" in Irish and Scottish Gaelic is from the same language family, so they probably share the same or a similar word.

"Soulmate" somehow got translated as "Spirit descendants". I'm pretty sure it's because it got split up into its component words; "Soul" corrupted into "Spirit", and "Mate"...I honestly don't know.

I translated a grand total of one line from Bdubs, and for some reason when I translated the document back to English, that one line stayed stuck on what I'm pretty sure is Maori except the word "Boogey", which stayed exactly the same.

I'm genuinely surprised by how many lines stuck remarkably close to the originals. Aside from his name, one of Joel's lines ("Where's the fun in that?") somehow survived perfectly intact, and one of BigB's lines ("There is no hole!") got pretty close ("No holes!").

I think the best part about this is that you can tell how and why Google translated some things the way it did, and then others you're just left completely stumped about how the hell it happened.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

It's almost fascinating to me to finally see so many people doubting the localization that I've been doubting for years (at this point, a decade). I used to see people get so defensive of localization and "how much work goes into it". Frankly I don't care how much "work" goes into it if they're gonna change the script anyway, and the localizers clearly didn't care how much work the writers put into making the original script in the first place.

Now here we are, with people saying the same things I've been saying for years about localization (with regard to this franchise specifically. Not all localization gets to this extent).

From what I understood of FE14's changes at least, most were made because of cultural differences (like Marks/Marx being changed to Xander iirc). I haven't looked all that deeply into it, but at least from what I did see, most were reasonable changes (including the Soleil support disaster).

FE13 was my first side eye though of the localization, and the beginning of my distrust at the localizations' ability to keep FE4/5 any bit in tact with their canon selves (mainly in Heroes once that game came out, but also in any future ports or remakes... which to this day I still don't trust them with. I'm perfectly content with FE4 being available on NSO in JP only).

Specifically, the Henry stuff struck me as odd, as if they were trying to ignore the fact that this game has war to begin with, so it's not a happy go lucky franchise. It was as if they thought it was "too much" for western audiences... and then we got shit like FE16, and yeah. Apparently it was.

As for FE10 though, I can forgive those changes because they're not extreme and also, they're not propping up characters to be something they're not. They didn't change entire meanings. Ike wasn't invading other lands or being an aggressor, touted as being a savior all the while. No idea why they removed the entire extended script, but that's less changes made and more just... nobody knows why they did that. There were also just some genuine accidents/mistakes in the translation process from what I understood and not intentional changes (this is true of FE9 as well).

It's funny you mention not wanting to play games without dual audio. I've been that way for a long time now. Generally I do prefer playing games in English, and especially if I can generally trust the localization not to mess with things intentionally (like Tales games for example. I have very few I prefer blatantly in JP, like Graces, and that's mostly a voice acting/voice direction problem for me. But Legendia? Hard English (especially because Shiloh Strong exists and his voicing of Moses had me over the moon. He was my first real, genuine "wow, English voice acting is actually getting amazing" back in the wee days of voice over in the west not being taken too seriously). Abyss and Vesperia I'm pretty equal on, but I prefer English since it's my native language and thus easier to get through in said native language).

I can't say anything for FE15 in comparison to either its original script or FE2 because I haven't played FE15 nor watched a playthrough of it and have no interest in doing so.

Seeing other people (you in this case!) mentioning that they don't want a game not offering the JP script because of the localization changes absolutely sends me because I am so glad other people are recognizing this issue and not uwuing over "how much work goes into localization". Y'all mean how much work goes into altering the script to fit the localizers specific preferences, yeah??? Yeah???

I used to get so much flak for this lol; especially in the Jugdral department. I don't care if people prefer playing their games in their native language or if they want to listen to the amazing voice acting, and that was never my issue. It was always that I don't trust the localization and don't trust that they change things in good faith in FE (FE14 was the exception for the most part at least). FE16 came out and well... literally everything I'd be talking about from day 1 was proven correct lol.

Considering that the English translation prettied up Caspar's endings for Flower (changing "often out of control to "sometimes reckless" and removing the text confirmed Caspar's career involves invading other countries), while vilifying his non-CF ending (saying he had victims), yeah. Same with turning Rhea restoring the Church to her rehabilitating it. There's definitely reason to side-eye the changes made by the translation team.

TBH,

(bcs i didn't enjoy FE14)

FE16 and Nopes (and all Fodlan content) seriously made me reconsider my stance on the localisation.

After FE Tellius I knew (I mean after FE10) that changes/omissions existed but never thought they were deliberately made to push one character by destroying others, the general feeling was the same at the end of the game (we are supposed to worship Ike, the localisation played it up to 11, but FE10 does it on its own).

Now, FE16 ?

I was pleasantly surprised with FE15's voice acting so I thought the dark eras of lolcalisation were behind us...

But then Rhage popped up.

And with Rhage, I started to notice all little tweaks here and there made in the localised (some at least) scripts, that added end up with the result that "maybe Supreme Leader isn't that bad" that is pretty different from the JP/og version.

When FE10's loc said "Ike is the most awesome dude ever" instead of the jp FE10 saying "Ike is the most awesome dude", the Fodlan lolcalisation tries to give a different meaning to the solution/story given by the game!

As you pointed out, Caspar doesn't invade countries and is "sometimes" reckless, instead of being "out of control while invading the rest of the known world", his non uwu endings are worsened, Rhea was swapped by Rhage, the church needs to be "rehabilited" instead of "restored"...

I don't want to be overly critical and dissect everything when I'm playing a game, I'm playing first and foremost to enjoy myself but when I listen to Leigh's voiced lines and see this :

or this :

even if you're not thinking about localisation too much, you can see there is an issue in voice direction, which leads to discovering issues in script localisation and then... you start to ask "why", and come up with sad answers.

So, because Fodlan verse really disappointed me lolcalisation wise, even if I made exceptions earlier for FE14 and FE15, I can't be assed to trust the lolcalisation at all, so if a game has audio but no dual audio, it will be a hard pass.

Even if a kind soul, like the ones who made the FE Datamine site, compile and upload the script with the different audios to compare, it's a big no-no.

I know jp audio will not solve everything (especially if i still don't understand the jp script lol) but at least when the localised script tries to sell me the apple that is orange in the original script is akshually purple I'd have some clues about something being wrong.

More power to you if you like purple apples, but if I was supposed to get an orange apple, I would like to get this orange apple (or maybe red or yellow if needed), and not another product.

[ddejavvu]

Hi Mei!!! I Hope you’re well 🧡

I’m just watching the first season of criminal minds for the first time, and I was on the episode where they go to Mexico. Elle’s ability to speak Spanish made me think of Aaron and reader where he just assumes reader can speak Spanish and tries to get her to interview witnesses but she’s like no babe I said I could get through a resort if we took a vacation!

Thank youuuuuuuu for sharing your writing with us 🧡

i also do not speak spanish so i did use google translate for the pet name that i put in at the end my apologies if it's awkward </3

--

Your brain has managed to tune out Elle's fluent Spanish conversation because you can't understand a word of it, but when the pair approaches you, you stiffen, throwing a kind smile at the woman beside her.

Elle says something to the woman, what you're not quite sure, because she's still speaking Spanish. But she looks expectantly at you, and you stare blankly back at her.

"Hello," You offer cautiously to the woman, wondering if she can manage an English interview, and maybe Elle needs to focus on those who can't, "Can I help you?"

"In Spanish," Elle prods, looking slightly inquisitive at you, "She doesn't speak English."

"I don't speak Spanish..." You shake your head ever-so-slightly, hands hanging limply at your sides.

She rears her head back, "You don't? Hotch said you do."

Your brows raise, "He did? I don't."

"Oh." She laughs lightly, and you assume the Spanish phrases that she offers to the woman beside her detail your predicament, because her words ease the nervous woman into relaxed laughter. Elle places a hand on her shoulder, bidding you goodbye, and resumes talking to the woman in Spanish.

You turn as soon as they leave you, eyes scanning the building you're stationed in for your boyfriend. He stands tall against the wall opposite you, filling officers in on the warning signs that they're looking for.

"-above all else, be vigilant. This person seems to know about our proceedings here, which means it could easily be someone in this room. Stay alert, and be careful who you trust."

With that bone-chilling warning, he dismisses the officers, and you feel bad for them when you see their paranoid glances to each other.

"Aaron," You step up to him once they disperse, "Did you tell Elle I could speak Spanish?"

"Yes I did," He nods, brows furrowing a fraction, "Did you not want me to?"

"Uh, well, I can't," You laugh, and he blinks blankly, "So, no, I'd have preferred for you not to tell her."

"Oh." He offers, "But I thought- When we were discussing our vacation plans..."

"I said I could survive a Spanish-speaking resort," You correct him, "Because anyone can download Duolingo. But I haven't yet, and I don't know an ounce of Spanish."

"Oh." He repeats, lighter this time as he chuckles sheepishly. He pulls you into an embrace, keeping it casual and quick as he bends down to kiss the grin off of your face. He backs away before he can give into his urge for more, but his hand stays clasped around your own, "Sorry. I didn't-" His shoulders shake with a chuckle as he glances at the floor, "I guess I should know that about you. I don't know why I assumed."

"It's okay, Aaron." You lean against his shoulder, "I'm not upset. But maybe we should download Duolingo."

"Maybe we should." He chuckles, "We'll do it in the car when we go for lunch."

"Deal," You nod, reluctant to let go of his hand even though you know you need to get back to work. Your eyes light with an idea, and you retrieve your phone, typing with the screen facing away from him while he watches, waits. Then you pocket it again, grinning devilishly at him, "See you then, mi amor."