#the first year professor is absolutely terrible

[wolfwind3]

Cursory

“There's no way he even read it, Lils! There wasn't enough time, even if he hadn't had that stupid Slug Club meeting.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “You got an O, Sev, that's what matters. Who cares whether he read every word?”

“But I slaved over those words, Lils! You know how I…” Severus trailed off. Lily had been there, after all. They'd read each other's essays and torn them apart with criticism, trying to make them the best that they could be. 

And they'd gotten Os. Obviously, Lily was satisfied. 

Severus wasn't. But since when did that matter to anyone?

[ellecdc]

Hello, I absolutely love your work. I was just wondering if you could do something with animagus!reader x poly!wolfstar...? If not, that's totally okay. Have a good day 💓

I can never say no to wolfstar <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who is an animagus [1.2k words]

CW: Remus chiding reader [lovingly] for not sleeping enough, Sirius having everything under control, fluff

“Hey Pads.” Remus let out with a sigh as he entered their dorm room, immediately loosening his school tie and dropping his bookbag onto his bed.

“Hey Moons.” Sirius returned quickly as he flipped the page in his book; sitting with his back against the headboard of his own bed and curled up in one of Remus’ jumpers.

“Do you know where your girlfriend is?” Remus asked, causing Sirius to snort.

“My girlfriend? When’d she become my girlfriend?”

“She’s your girlfriend when she refuses to eat properly and drink enough water, or get more than three hours of sleep ‘here and there’.” Remus muttered rather petulantly, though it was all for show when he felt his heart traitorously twinge remembering how cute you looked nearly falling asleep over your breakfast this morning.

✧˖°☾

“It’s breakfast dovey, you should be waking up now, not falling asleep.” Remus said to you as he massaged the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

You looked rather sheepish as you tried to shake yourself or your residual sleepiness and brought a fork full of pancakes to your mouth. “Sorry moons… Was up late studying.”

“How late?” Remus had asked with his eyes narrowed, causing you to wince around your bite.

“Erm…what time is it now?”

“Dovey.” 

“I slept for a little bit! Maybe…I don’t know, a few hours?”

“How many is a few?” He deadpanned.

“Three?”

✧˖°☾

He’d not been pleased with you, to say the least. But there was nothing he could do as the day quickly got away from him - between staying late after Herbology to get extra credit helping out Professor Sprout, grabbing something to eat from the kitchens before rushing to the library to tutor the first year Defence Against the Dark Arts students, and finally, his prefect rounds - he was only returning to his own dorm long after the sun had already set.

If he was tired, you must be positively exhausted. 

“Oh, I get it.” Sirius replied with a huff. “When she’s tired and teary, she’s my girlfriend, but when she’s dutifully doted upon, she’s yours?”

“Yeah.” Remus agreed quickly, smiling before moving to peck a kiss to Sirius’ extremely kissable lips. “See? You get it.” 

“Wanker.” Sirius muttered with a smile before puckering his lips for one more, and Remus gave him two. 

“Was she terribly teary?” Remus asked then as he went to shed off his uniform and find himself a jumper that either you or Sirius hadn’t pilfered from his pile yet. 

“Not terribly.” Sirius offered vaguely, causing Remus to make a sympathetic noise.

“But she was teary?” 

Sirius made a noncommittal sound as he continued with his book. “No worse than you after a few too many pepper-up potions in place of, oh, how did you phrase it... eating properly, drinking enough water, and getting more than three hours of sleep here and there?” 

“Prat.” Remus muttered as he tossed his uniform shirt at him, but Sirius - the bastard - caught it without even looking up. “Did you send her off to bed, then?”

“Sure.”

“Sirius.”

“Yes, Moons?” Sirius asked, looking up from his book with an innocent smile that Remus knew to be anything but innocent when coming from one Sirius Orion Black.

“She needs to sleep, Pads.”

“And I can assure you without a shadow of a doubt that she’s currently doing just that.” He responded simply.

“Yeah, how?” 

Sirius simply winked at him before looking back down at his book. “Trade secrets, Moons.”

“Sirius.”

“Oh would you just come over here, then? You sodding git.” 

Remus momentarily considered staying on his side of the dorm room just out of spite for Sirius’ cheek, but his interest positively piqued when Sirius finally placed a bookmark in the book he’d been flipping through and pulled at the collar of his jumper. Remus’ jumper.

“You’re gonna stretch the neck out.” Remus muttered, but dutifully moved across the room to look under Sirius’ Remus’ jumper to see that, laying between the soft fabric of Sirius’ band tee and Remus’ jumper was a small, long-haired calico cat sleeping peacefully with its tail curled protectively around its body and resting gently on its own nose.

Remus made an embarrassing tsking sound at the sweet sight and fought against the urge to shove his hand into the jumper in order to give you some scratches (which would only serve to wake you), opting to press a firm kiss to Sirius’ head instead. 

“See? Told ya I had it all under control.”

“You said no such thing, Sirius.” 

“Well it should always just be assumed, then.” 

Remus shook his head but didn’t bother to argue as he moved to the other side of Sirius’ bed and made himself comfortable. “So much for not being a cat person, hm?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Moons; I love cats.” Sirius responded haughtily.

“Liar.”

“If I didn’t like cats, why would I have one shoved up my shirt, huh?” 

“You don’t like cats, you like her.”

“Correction,” Sirius countered, not unlike one of his snooty little first years during his tutoring session, “I love her.” 

“I do too.” Remus agreed with a beaming smile. “I love you.” 

“Well I should hope so,” Sirius laughed, “I saved you from a category five over-tired meltdown for looking at her sideways when she complained how tired she was.” 

“Did you?”

“Of course not!” Sirius chided with a laugh and swatted him with his now closed book. “I have more tact and grace than you.” 

It was Remus’ turn to snort. “Sure.” 

“The trick was,” Sirius offered conspiratorily, “telling her I was cold, and asking if she’d cuddle me whilst I read.” 

“Devious.”

“Mischevious, some might say.”

With that, a little nose and a set of whiskers poked out from the collar of Sirius’ borrowed jumper to look at Remus expectantly.

“Hey, sweetness.” He offered quietly, holding his hand out which encouraged you to poke out only as far as your neck in order to rub against his fingers; tiny body vibrating with purrs.

Sirius shifted so he was laying on his back, only propped up by the pillows on his bed, and Remus repositioned himself to join him as he laid on his side to watch the two of you.

You left your neck poking out of the jumper, but Remus could see underneath the knitted fabric your little body flatten out again against your boyfriend's chest as you let out a deep, relaxed breath and closed your eyes once more. 

“Good job, Pads.” Remus had whispered a few moments later; watching as your shallow feline breaths evened out rhythmically. He’d been so focused on monitoring your breathing he hadn’t realised Sirius’ had evened out too, and Remus was left to close the curtains to the four poster bed and press a kiss to each of your heads - one human, one feline - before turning out the lights.

[supernovasilence]

Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too

They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.

They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.

It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.

(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)

Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.

Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)

Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)

Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)

Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah

Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.

But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.

Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.

"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.

Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.

(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)

[lehnsherrrr]

Here’s a collection of all the gayest cherik gifs I could find, with a description for why each one of them is gay because micro movements and body language are my favourite. (I’m autistic and focus on details instead of the big picture.)

First things first.

The way he’s just STARING, and he does this a lot, like pretty much always. But as Charles turns, Erik stays in the same place, meaning he is now weirdly close to him. The only place he could look is Charles neck and jawline, which is CRAZY, but what’s crazier is how he does it so confidently.

Charles goes to put his arm up, but decides not too. Even after this I’m pretty sure he has his arm around Erik anyway, but it’s actually gayer that Charles had a moment to think ‘Wait I shouldn’t put my arm there. He could’ve just done it, but instead he had to think about it.

The calm before the violence. The way Charles sees them both there, then actually realises it’s Erik, and his eyes light up. Also love the way you can see Erik’s reflection, it’s beautiful.

But of course that tender love that came so instinctively immediately washes away as the past 10 years come flooding back. But for just a moment, the shock of seeing Erik again made him forget about the pain.

Also see, Erik’s moment of recognition. This isn’t the pretty shiny professor big eyes, soft face, and love radiating from him. This is a tired grizzled man, a whole 10 years older, no longer prim and proper, no longer the star student. And also in this moment, Charles doesn’t have his powers, so Erik also can’t feel those constant rays of love being sent from him, which he so heavily associated with him. He might even only recognise him because they’re face to face, but he still manages it, cause how could he ever forget Charles.

More on that previous idea, here Erik immediately recognises Charles from just the presence of him alone. It’s been another 10 years, Charles hasn’t even spoken, and Erik already knows he’s there.

Think of it, him going through all this darkness and pain, standing there wallowing in a shadow. And then suddenly, there’s a light. That beam of love that he hadn’t felt for over 20 years now, but it’s stuck with Erik, because he holds onto it so dearly.

These two gifs together. If these are the brotherly friend enemies bros that the movies were supposed to portray them as, then there was absolutely no reason for either of them to be so stricken with emotion about the other that they are brought to tears.

You can feel it if you look at them here, you can feel your heart ache as theirs do. There are words unspoken, tears spilling out as they think about the other, thinking about coming back together.

Okay easing up from the heartbreak. Aftercare for the emotional rawdogging I just put you through.

Look at this hoe. GIRL LOOK AWAY??? FOR ONE SECOND??? I don’t think Charles even feels that strongly for Erik in this moment, but Erik sure does. Look at him, the pure admiration in his eyes. Terrible.

In this part of the film, Erik is still in awe at Charles. Everything Charles does is so full of love, Erik can’t even comprehend it. Especially that this love was being directed towards him, towards people Charles didn’t even know. He’s dumbstruck.

And then this. What. Girl. WHAT.

As a queer person, it’s rare that I have such an intensely gay moment. Look at it. There’s not even tension here, they’re so relaxed.

But now think about this. How did they get there?? Which of them suggested it?????

One of them would’ve had to ask to hang out with the other. Alone.

Then I bet it was Erik who said “excellent idea I’ll bring the chess set.”

And then they wondered around looking for a place to sit and thought “hm yes those big white steps beside a beautiful view of water looks perfect, we’d be very alone there!”

And then they both would’ve walked up those steps, and sat down to play chess.

and THEN.

Charles would’ve eventually leaned back. But he didn’t just lean back, he leaned towards Erik. Look at the way he’s laying, he’s so relaxed.

You ever been by yourself and realise you’re sat in the weirdest position? Hanging out with a close friend or partner, this will also happen.

Charles isn’t aware of how he’s sat, he just did it cause he’s relaxed and comfortable.

And they ain’t even playing chess.

It’s either Charles or Erik’s turn, and I’m not even sure if they know whose turn it is. Erik is yapping about politics, and Charles is listening but also staring at him instead of the view.

Also note the way that Erik doesn’t look at Charles here. He is looking at his thoughts as he speaks (a very neurodivergent thing to do). And if he is always looking at the thing he’s thinking about, then that explains what he’s thinking about when he’s looking at Charles.

I mean really Michael Fassbender, what was your thought process when acting out these scenes.

I went to acting school for a very large part of my life (absolutely traumatic) and the most important thing in acting is to not just do what the character is doing. You have to think it, believe it.

So tell me Michael Fassbender, what was Erik thinking as you stared longingly at James’ jaw, eyes, neck. When you looked him up and down, when you touched him so gently.

You made those decisions, you knew what you were doing. Actors always have the final say.

ONE LAST THING.

This happens so many times I couldn’t find just one gif, and I also met the gif maximum.

There are so many moments in all of the films where Erik and Charles just stare at each other. I thoroughly believe they are talking telepathically in those moments. When they stare at each other at the strip club? They’re saying something about Angel. It’s obvious.

I actually really like the way the film doesn’t tell us what they’re saying, cause they’re so obviously speaking and we don’t even need to hear it. Charles is a telepath, you don’t just stare into a telepaths big blue eyes and have no thoughts in your head. And a telepath doesn’t just stare at you and not project anything. That’s so unrealistic.

Also see this post to see how gently Erik touches Charles (and one time he doesn’t) ((wish that was me AWOOGA))

Need to rest my hands now this one knackered me. If you have any other gifs of those little moments, PLEASE SEND THEM TO MEEEEEE

[dark-dawn]

❝ HEART RATE HIGHS !! ❞ – azriel x reader

✭ pairing: gym rat ! azriel x archeron ! reader

✭ summary: you swear you only have a gym membership for self-improvement. it’s definitely not to see the cute guy you have a crush on.

✭ contains: modern au, f!reader, college au, but age is vague, anxious!reader who can’t see that azriel is already a little in love with you, gym culture, alcohol, meddling sisters, because reader is terrible at talking to guys, mutual pining.

✭ word count: 3k+ ✭ a/n: i absolutely love gym fics and i couldn't stop thinking about azriel in a compression shirt, so if i have to suffer, so do you <3

“wait, did i hear you properly? you’re going to the gym?” nesta’s voice cuts through the quiet murmur of the lecture hall. heads turn, and the professor pauses mid-sentence, frowning at the interruption. you cringe at the sudden attention and whisper an apology, slouching in your seat to avoid the stares.

“you’re acting like i’ve just sprouted wings,” you respond, trying to keep your voice low.

nesta blinks, her surprise melting into scepticism. “well, it is out of character for you. the gym, are you sure?”

“yes.”

“really?”

you nod.

you can’t blame her for being doubtful. among your sisters, you’re the most averse to exercise. even elain, thanks to her gardening, could likely outlift you. but –

“i don’t know if i should be offended that you’re so surprised.”

“hey, it’s not personal,” nesta replies, her voice softer as she glances around the room. the professor had resumed teaching and students were slowly returning their attention to their notes. “it’s just... unexpected. i mean, last time i suggested going for a jog, you looked at me like i’d grown a second head.”

“yeah, well, i just figured it’s about time i start taking better care of myself.”

“what brought this on all of a sudden?”

you shrug, trying to put your thoughts into words. “i guess i just realised that i’ve been neglecting my health lately. with school and everything else going on, i haven’t been feeling so great.”

nesta nods in understanding, letting you continue. neither of you really cared about this class, after all, and it wasn’t the first time you’d been called out for talking through a lecture.

“i just thought it might be a good way to clear my head, you know? like, a chance to zone out and focus on something other than deadlines and exams.”

“if you turn into a gym rat and only eat chicken and rice, i’m disowning you.”

“you’d have to pry ice cream from my cold, dead hands,” you say, nudging nesta with a grin. “nothing can take away my love of carbs and cheesy fries.”

“uh-huh, sure. that’s what they all say until they’re posting pictures of their meal prep on instagram.”

“you have no faith in me, do you?”

“none whatsoever,” she replies with a grin. “but hey, if this gym thing helps you feel better, i’m all for it.”

“if i ever mention a juice cleanse, you have full permission to stage an intervention.”

“deal. and if you lecture me on the importance of pre-workout supplements, i’m kicking you out of the apartment.”

after your year abroad, you found yourself back at the university of velaris, settling into a new rhythm with your three sisters. the four of you had decided to share an apartment, a decision fuelled by equal parts necessity and nostalgia. it wasn’t long before familiar routines took shape amidst the chaos of unpacked boxes and endless debates over furniture placement.

besides, feyre had been spending most of her time at her new boyfriend’s apartment, leaving a bit more breathing room for the rest of you. you hadn’t met him yet, but you’d heard he came from money and his penthouse had skyline views, so you could hardly blame her.

nesta wasn’t a fan, muttering something about “trust fund babies” under her breath whenever his name came up in conversation. but feyre seemed happy, and ultimately, that was what mattered most, even if a twinge of jealousy occasionally crept in.

“you should come with me.”

“i would rather die,” she snorts. “doesn’t mor work out? you should ask her.”

“no way, i’d look even more unfit next to her. i have some pride.”

“wow, so you ask me instead. you’re such a bitch,” she laughs.

as luck would have it, the gym was just a 10-minute walk away, conveniently offering a discounted price for students. the only downside was going alone.

“but i don’t know how to use the equipment,” you groan.

“and you think i do?” your sister retorts.

“well, no, but at least i wouldn’t look like the only idiot.”

“just find someone with muscles and ask them,” she suggests.

“right, of course, because i’m so great at talking to strangers.”

nesta raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. “so, what’s your plan then? to stand in the corner and hope the smith machine starts talking to you?”

“maybe,” you mumble, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. you didn’t even know what a smith machine was until this morning.

nesta lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “stop being such a baby and put a cute workout outfit on. you’ll be fine.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you were very much not fine.

the blonde girl at the front desk, with her bouncing ponytail and bright smile that could probably power the entire gym, was very nice. she had given you a tour of the gym, showing you the rows of gleaming equipment and weight racks, and enthusiastically pointed out the array of classes available, from yoga and spin to high-intensity interval training.

she had, however, assumed you knew how to use everything, and you hadn’t been brave enough to correct her.

you had nodded along, trying to absorb the barrage of information she threw at you, but each machine seemed more complicated than the last, and you were positive some of them belonged in a medieval torture chamber. 

but you could do this. if guys who couldn’t even spell “midterm” could end up looking like greek statues, surely you could handle a single gym session. you were smart, you were pretty. everything was going to be just fine. besides, you had watched enough fitness influencers on social media to have a vague idea of what to do. with a deep breath, you reminded yourself that everyone had to start somewhere – or at least that’s what your therapist had told you.

deciding to start your session with something familiar, you made your way over to the row of treadmills. incline walking was hard to mess up. the downside was that it made you feel like you were dying.

thirty minutes later, you were profoundly regretting your decision as you clung to the handrails, legs burning with exertion. sweat had beaded on your forehead, and you couldn’t help but curse under your breath.

with shaky legs, you made your way to the weights, steeling yourself against the familiar wave of self-doubt. this part of the gym was always crowded with an excess of men flaunting their egos, their grunts and posturing only serving to make you feel even more out of place.

you think of nesta and how she would never let anyone make her feel small. she would have your head if she thought you would let any man intimidate you.

deep breaths. everything is fine.

as you attempt to adjust the resistance on the leg press machine, your fingers fumble over the pin that holds the weight stack in place, causing the plates to clang noisily against each other. flushed and annoyed, you would love nothing more than to slink away in embarrassment.

“here, let me.” he crouches beside you and effortlessly rectifies your problem as if you hadn’t been struggling for the past ten minutes.

oh god, he looked like he could go viral on tiktok or be on the front cover of a fitness magazine.

and he was helping you.

stay calm. just ignore the fact that this might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever met.

you couldn’t help but steal glances at the way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric of his black compression shirt, each movement highlighting the definition of his arms and chest.

he was so pretty. you just hoped you didn’t look like you were dying.

“thanks,” you say, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended.

oh god, just breathe.

he flashes you a soft smile, “no problem. we’ve all been there.”

you’d like to say you committed to a gym membership for self-improvement.

(you would be lying.)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

before ever stepping foot in a gym, your taste in men was somewhat predictable.

you liked nerdy computer science guys you could play video games with and pretentious english lit students who gave you good book recommendations – the indoor sort.

they all tended to look like a light breeze could push them over. not the kind where you could steal their hoodies. and that was fine. you didn’t care, honest.

but then the cute guy at the gym completely ruined your usual type in men. you never imagined you’d be that into muscles, but he looked like he could toss you around like a rag doll, and you soon realised that you actually quite liked the thought.

you initially thought your crush would be harmless – glancing at him from across the room and playing out scenarios in your head.

but then he started offering to unload your plates, and showed you how different machines worked when you looked particularly confused. he would ask you to spot him, despite you both knowing you would be of zero help, and would refill your water bottle when he noticed it getting low.

he would even help to correct your form so you wouldn’t injure yourself.

that, however, had you so flustered you couldn’t even complete the full set. his hand grazing your waist made your heart pound so loudly, you were certain he could hear it. you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

you told him you had to leave early to finish your essay.

and then, like the gentleman he was, he had asked you about it the next time he saw you, and let you ramble about your major for far too long. the worst part was that he seemed genuinely interested.

you didn’t even know his name and yet you were pretty sure you wanted to have his babies.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“are you sure you really need protein powder?” elain questioned, picking up a bunch of celery for her green juices. “you can get all the vitamins and minerals you need from real food, you know.”

“but it’s so much easier to hit my protein goals with it,” you whined, clutching the tub of powder defensively.

“she’s only doing this because her crush drinks the same brand,” nesta teased, a sly grin spreading across her face as she tossed a box of granola into the cart.

“oh my god, keep your voice down,” you groaned, glancing around nervously. it was 10 pm on a wednesday. the grocery store was practically deserted, but you think you might cry if anyone overhears. “besides, it’s not just because of him. it’s practical!”

“practical,” nesta repeated, her grin widening. “sure, that’s the reason.”

“what’s his name again?" elain said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“i hate you,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up. you tried to focus on the nutrition label in front of you, but nesta’s laughter made it impossible.

“come on,” nesta said, nudging you playfully. “you’ve been pining over him for months. when are you going to actually talk to him?”

“never?”

“you should accidentally bump into him and spill your protein shake all over his expensive gym clothes. it would be a brilliant conversation starter.”

“please don’t jinx me.”

“oh, and then you could do his laundry as an apology, and he’d buy you a coffee because he thinks you’re pretty!” elain chimes in.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you’ve been working out long enough now that you knew the basics of gym etiquette. namely, don’t be creepy. a simple thing, really, but too many people struggled to act like sane, well-adjusted human beings capable of basic manners. it was as if the gym was some bizarre alternate universe where leggings made men’s brains short-circuit.

so you try very hard to not stare at your gym crush doing pull-ups.

but his biceps are flexing, his shirt is riding up, and you never knew you could be so attracted to someone’s back.

you feel like you’re twelve again – you want to write his name in a heart in your diary and talk about him for hours on the phone.

for the first time, however, you’re grateful you don’t know any concrete details about him. you would’ve stalked his social media, found out he had a girlfriend or horrible political opinions, and then cried yourself to sleep.

you’d really rather not know. hopeless yearning is much more to your taste.

but then he notices you across the room and smiles, and you realise your gym crush is very much not harmless.

you decide that you’ll be brave and actually initiate conversation for once.

a horrible idea, really.

“hey.”

“hey,” he responds.

“what are you listening to?” god, you didn’t think you were this awkward.

“oh, i don’t listen to music when i work out.”

“right, yeah, i totally get that.” you actually don’t understand that at all. the idea of exercising with just your thoughts sounds like a special kind of torture, but he doesn’t need to know that.

you fidget with the hem of your shorts, desperately searching for something else to say.

“so, uh, how’s your workout going?” he asks.

“it’s going okay,” you reply, the words tumbling out. “you?”

you want to disappear.

“yeah, it’s good too.” you swear you see a hint of pink in his cheeks, though it’s probably just from finishing his set.

your mind is blank and you have no idea what else to say. “great.”

you hope you look like you’re smiling and not grimacing.

this was quite possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had. you’re never speaking to a man again.

even if they are very pretty and look like they could pick you up without breaking a sweat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

getting ready with three other girls in a cramped apartment was always a challenge. you loved your sisters, but if feyre didn’t get away from the mirror, you would scream.

feyre, always meticulous with her makeup, was painstakingly perfecting her eyeliner, ignoring the sighs from nesta.

“can you possibly move any slower?” nesta hisses, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms.

you exchange a knowing look with elain, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, scrolling through her phone. she had opted to stay behind, and you were growing increasingly jealous of her decision.

“why don’t we just take turns?” you intervene, hoping to avoid a fight before you even got to the party. “feyre, you finish up, then nesta, and i’ll go last. sound fair?”

feyre finally steps away from the bathroom and nesta wastes no time in taking her place, muttering something about how she could do a better job in half the time.

feyre had been persistent about attending one of rhysand’s house parties for weeks now, and despite your and nesta’s reluctance, she had managed to wear you down. it wasn’t so much her persuasive arguments as it was the promise of free alcohol that ultimately swayed both of you. plus, you were a little curious. feyre had been gushing about her boyfriend for months now. 

as you stood in front of the mirror, giving yourself a final once-over, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. feyre, radiant in her navy dress, was practically buzzing with excitement. nesta looked as though she’d rather be doing anything else, despite begrudgingly admitting that the three of you looked good.

you had opted for a short, tight-fitted black dress. shocking how regularly going to the gym could actually help your confidence.

feyre led the way, practically dragging you and nesta out of the apartment. elain, now comfortably nestled on the couch with a book, waved you goodbye. “be safe, and don’t drink too much!”

“it’s so cute that you think i could survive the night without being drunk,” nesta laughs. 

the cool night air is a welcome change from the stuffy apartment as the three of you step outside to wait for the cab. feyre was already chattering about rhysand and his friends, while nesta had shot her a look that could wither plants.

you really needed a drink.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

rhysand’s apartment ended up being a thirty-minute drive away, nestled in the wealthier district of velaris, and you could see why feyre spent so much time here.

you could hear the music before you even enter, and it smells so strongly of alcohol you already feel a little lightheaded.

it can hardly be called an apartment in all honesty, it’s nicer than most houses and certainly surpasses anything you’ve ever stepped foot in before. it’s spacious, with an open layout that flows effortlessly from one room to the next. plush couches and chairs face a glass coffee table that is currently covered in red plastic cups and half-finished bottles of vodka. luckily, all his furniture was black. you winced at the thought of cleaning the stains that were bound to appear after tonight.

you noticed the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a pretty view of the city skyline, the twinkling lights stretching out like a blanket of stars against the night. you weren’t the jealous type, but you had the sudden urge to strangle feyre.

she had navigated the apartment with ease, her eyes alight with familiarity as she disappeared in search of rhysand. left to fend for yourselves, you and nesta exchanged a glance before setting off in the direction of the kitchen.

as you weave through the throng of people, you catch sight of mor, effortlessly manoeuvring between guests as she pours drinks. she seems completely at ease, flashing dazzling smiles and looking stunning as ever.

mor’s eyes light up with recognition as she spots you among the crowd. with a beckoning gesture, she calls you over. “i didn’t think you two would be here!” she seems genuinely happy to see you, despite only talking to her after class a couple of times.

“our sister is dating the host, so naturally, we’ve been dragged along,” you reply. “she’s off hunting him down now.”

mor’s gaze shifts between you and nesta, realisation crossing her features. “rhysand is actually my cousin,” she explains with a smile. “so, i’ve met feyre a few times now.”

“that’s unfortunate,” nesta laughs. you’re pretty sure she’s only half-joking.

you elbow her. “come on, don’t be mean. i don’t want to be kicked out after five minutes of being here.”

“are you sure? we could go get pizza and ice cream and not wake up feeling like we were hit by a car?”

“are you seriously the voice of reason right now?”

“hey, if you’re going to the gym, then i can be a responsible adult.”  

mor perks up, her eyes brightening with interest. “you work out?”

you smile sheepishly, “i only started a few months ago.”

“you should join me sometime!” mor suggests eagerly. “i usually go with rhysand and a few others, but one of them hasn’t shown up in ages. it’d be great to have another girl!”

“speaking of which, i should introduce you to them,” mor adds with a grin before calling out, “azriel! cassian! get over here!”

and then you spot who is walking over.

“mor, what’s up?” a very familiar voice asks.

because, you realise, it’s your gym crush. it’s the guy you’ve been pining over for months.

your brain is really struggling to comprehend that he’s here, and he knows mor, and apparently rhysand?

has he met feyre too?

he’s wearing all black, like usual, and his biceps look even better in this lighting, and oh god, you want to melt into the ground before you somehow think of a new way to embarrass yourself.

your mind is racing a hundred miles per hour and you’re suddenly realising you’re going to have to avoid feyre’s boyfriend forever if he’s friends with him and – 

and as your eyes meet his, and realisation flickers across his features, you’re really wishing you had stayed at home with elain.

or vanish into thin air. that works too.

“az, these are feyre’s sisters!” mor’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

you’ve finally learnt his name, you suppose, but you’re pretty sure you’ll have to find a new gym.

[solxamber]

Could I request Azul and Jamil with a super talented reader who's super low-key and humble about it?

Reader can literally learn and do anything but whenever people praise them for it, they just shrug and say it's no biggie. They're also super lazy and not very active.

Nothing angsty, please! Just these two getting jealous of reader and trying to one-up them and failing.

Azul , Jamil with a super talented reader

thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prided himself on his work ethic, his strategic genius, and his ability to control any situation. That is, until you came along.

You, the student who could master any skill, learn any spell, and complete any task as effortlessly as breathing, all while looking half asleep. At first, Azul thought it was just luck—maybe you had a natural knack for a couple of things. But no. No.

You were a force of nature, and what was worse—you didn’t even care.

It all started in Potions class. Azul had, of course, been showing off his perfectly executed potion, a gleaming liquid that sparkled like sunlight on the ocean. Professor Crewel was nodding approvingly, and Azul was basking in the glory, about to receive top marks.

Then you—who had been literally doodling on your notebook the entire time—turned in your potion. A bright, shimmering liquid with a perfect consistency.

Azul narrowed his eyes, holding back a laugh. “Oh? Decided to put in some effort at the last second?”

You blinked, rubbing your neck. “Not really. Just did whatever the recipe said.”

“Just did whatever the recipe said?” Azul repeated, trying to maintain his composure. “I see. Well, it’s probably just a fluke.”

Professor Crewel glanced between Azul’s and your potion, then did a double-take. “Hmm. This one,” he said, pointing to yours, “is the most perfect potion I’ve seen in years. Well don—”

Azul’s soul left his body.

You just shrugged, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Eh, no biggie.”

Azul felt his eye twitch. No biggie? His masterpiece had been dethroned by someone who couldn’t even be bothered to stay awake through the lesson?! He clenched his fists, resolving to challenge you—surely this was just a one-time thing.

The next day, he challenged you to a game of chess in the Mostro Lounge. He could already see the headlines: Master Strategist Azul Ashengrotto Crushes Overconfident Upstart in Chess.

“Ready?” Azul smirked, pushing up his glasses.

You yawned, taking a sip of your drink. “Sure, why not?”

The match began. Azul moved his pieces with the precision of a seasoned general, carefully calculating every possible counter move. He was winning. Victory was within his grasp.

And then you nonchalantly moved a piece. “Checkmate.”

Azul stared at the board. “Wait. What? How?!”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Just moved the knight thingy over there.”

Azul felt the world spin around him. You couldn’t even name the pieces properly and you’d beaten him?! He gawked at the board, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Eh, no biggie,” you said, getting up. “I’m going to take a nap now.”

Azul could only sit there, trembling as you casually strolled off like you hadn’t just dismantled his ego with a single move.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil prided himself on being competent—no, exceptional—at everything he did. Years of hard work, discipline, and focus had made him one of the most capable students in NRC.

But then there was you. The walking anomaly who somehow excelled at everything without lifting a finger. And it was driving Jamil absolutely insane.

The first time he noticed was during Scarabia’s basketball game. Kalim had dragged you along to join in, and while Jamil expected you to be terrible—what with the way you were lying on the grass, not even trying—he quickly realized you were anything but.

“Hey,” Jamil called from the court. “You’re not even trying. You do realize we’re playing a game, right?”

You yawned, still sprawled on the sidelines. “Yeah, just... not feeling it today.”

Jamil glared. “Oh, really? Well, maybe you’ll feel it if I throw you the ball.”

He tossed it to you, hard, hoping to snap you out of your lazy daze.

You casually caught it with one hand, still half-asleep, then stood up and—without even looking—launched it across the court.

The ball swished perfectly into the basket.

Jamil blinked. The entire court was silent.

“Nice,” you said, sitting back down. “I’m going back to sleep now.”

Jamil’s mind short-circuited. You weren’t even trying?! He had been practicing those shots for weeks, and you just casually yeeted the ball into the basket without a second thought?!

That’s when he decided: this was war.

The next day, he challenged you to a cooking competition. Surely, in this realm, his expertise would shine. After all, Jamil was a master of Scarabian cuisine. He had spent years perfecting his recipes.

You glanced at the ingredients and lazily started throwing things into a pan. Jamil, ever the perfectionist, was carefully measuring spices and slicing vegetables with precision. He couldn’t wait to show you who the real chef was.

Except... the aroma coming from your dish was heavenly.

Jamil peeked over, and his jaw dropped. “Wait... what are you making?”

“Uh, dunno,” you said, tasting your sauce. “Just kind of threw stuff together.”

Jamil’s eye twitched. “Threw stuff together?! That’s a five-star dish! How?!”

You shrugged. “Eh, I dunno. Just felt like it’d work. Not a biggie.”

Not a biggie? Jamil stared at you, absolutely floored. Not a biggie?! That dish could make the Sultan of the Scalding Sands weep tears of joy, and you? You acted like you’d made instant ramen.

Jamil spent the rest of the week plotting ways to one-up you. Whether it was dancing, studying, or sports, he was determined to show you that he was the more skilled one. But each time, you effortlessly matched him, only to give that infuriating shrug and say, “Eh, not a biggie.”

By the end of it, Jamil found himself slumped in the lounge, defeated. You were lazily flipping through a magazine beside him, as if none of it had even registered.

“You’re... going to drive me insane,” Jamil muttered.

You yawned. “Eh, no biggie.”

Masterlist

[sparkling-ariaria]

Hogwarts Legacy fics I read and want to keep...

*Complete fem or non-specific reader insert fics* Upd: 11.10.2024

"You are everything. Everything. It’s true." by sebswebs - Sebastian x gf!Reader

Mon Amour by sebswebs - Sebastian x gf!Reader As their 7th year begins, Hogwarts has been chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament. Upon the arrival of the beautiful girls of Beauxbatons Academy, MC is feeling overly insecure before she has even had a chance to reunite with her boyfriend after the summer.

He's so in love by hufflepuffwitchhh - Ominis Gaunt x Reader Ominis is in love with you. Now, who's gonna tell him? Alternatively known as: ten times Sebastian knew Ominis was in love with you vs the first time Ominis knew he was in love with you.

Her touch by thenerdykneazle - Ominis Gaunt x fem!Reader Ominis had never been fond of being touched. Or, at least, he had few positive experiences with it. That changed with the arrival of the new fifth-year.

Catnap by pluvpluvpluv - Ominis Gaunt x gf!MC x Sebastian Sallow

Strained by ravenelyx - Ominis Gaunt x gf!Reader Exams have taken a toll on you and your health - especially your eyes. Thankfully, Ominis is there to take care of you.

I like you(r) by ravenelyx - Sebastian Sallow x Reader Sebastian likes a lot of things about you, like your sweet perfume... or your lips.

Cute little boyfriend moments headcanons by ashisgreedy - Garreth Weasley

Flowery Language by galaxiasgreen - Garreth Weasley x gf!Reader Garreth gets you flowers, and things go terribly wrong.

Scriptorium to Sepulcher (AO3 link) by RGKO Side story to "The Raven and the Snake" by choccymilky. Takes place after the scriptorium scene. Ominis is depressed about finding his aunt's remains and his two friends want to help him.

A Jeweled Promise by forbidden-armotentia - Ominis x gf!Reader Ominis gifts his girlfriend a necklace, which can only be unlocked with parseltongue.

Judge of character by sebastians-niffler - Sebastian x hufflepuff!Reader When professor Howin assigns a task on caring of a niffler, Sebastian has a bit of a hard time. That is, until you give him the confidence he had hidden all along.

Never have I ever by emptycauldron - Ominis x fem!Reader Ominis is dragged to a Gryffindor party, where MC teaches them all a Muggle drinking game.

HL Charas react to MC as a cat animagus by hogwartslegacyreactions2

Golden by btsbabe7 - Sebastian x Reader Watching the sunset within the grassland vivarium.

You Were The First by spaceyaceface - Ominis x f!Reader Ominis Gaunt has never known affection. He has never known how it felt to love---to be loved. She came and changed all of it.

Comfort drabble by bluerainshadows - Garreth x fem!Reader

You look better in green by fierymiasma - Sebastian x fem!Hufflepuff!Reader In which Sebastian sees the new transfer student wearing someone else’s scarf and proceeds to absolutely lose it.

Moonlight drabble by galaxiasgreen - Ominis x Reader In search of distraction from Ranrok's rebellion, you dance with Ominis in the Undercroft.

Now that I "see" you by huffleflufflefly - Ominis x Reader You came up with an idea to enchant a pair of glasses to help him see. You’ve tried quite a few times, but you felt this pair was the one!

Sleep by islayhawkin - Ominis x Reader At home Ominis had to sleep on the floor as a punishment so he still feels safest sleeping on the floor.

A moment of your time by applinsandoranges - Andrew Larson x fem!Reader Andrew has a certain way of grabbing MC's attention - and her affection. Old habits die hard, not that she'd ever want him to stop asking for her time.

Liquid Courage by forbidden-amortentia - Ominis x fem!Reader Ominis gets startled in potions class and accidentally grabs onto MC's thigh.

To Hogsmeade by hollowwrites - Garreth x fem!Reader Experiencing the Hogsmeade guest with Garreth.

The Gardener and the Alchemist by hollowwrites - Garreth x fem!Reader Garreth asks you to break into Honeydukes…again.

What do you propose by hollowwrites - Garreth x gf!Reader

The weight of anger by thatsoanjie Sebastian doesn't exactly see eye to eye with you on goblins... can he be reasoned with?

[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

[rainsfiction]

Woke up with Saltburn brainrot taking up all my brain capacity so here’s some of my unhinged thoughts:

• Felix is a terrible fuck… but only after Oliver starts watching him through his window. He used to be the best fuck anyone could ever have; focused, attentive and doing everything for his partners pleasure because he absolutely got off on the praise that came with being absolutely fantastic in bed. Felix made fucking an art form… and then Oliver came along and made him the worst fuck imaginable. Oliver who takes up all his headspace and singlehandedly got rid of any “attentive lover” rumours dancing around Felix because all Felix can think about when getting off is Oliver’s pretty, blue, please fuck me eyes. Oliver who is absolutely watching Felix through his window and completely ruining his rhythm and oh fuck he’s gonna cum-

• Farleigh will never like Oliver… but he would do absolutely anything to have another night with him. Farleigh may be a pansexual switch, prone to threesomes and sleeping with professors, but one thing no one is confused about is that he’s in control in the bedroom. When Oliver snuck into his room Farleigh had absolutely no control, and the crazy part is that he liked it. He liked Oliver overpowering him and making demands of him. He liked his pleasure being in Oliver’s hands, and he liked how quickly he submitted. He wanted Oliver to have all the control over the situation, and he wanted Oliver to wreck him. Even after all the Cattons are long gone, Farleigh still craves Oliver’s attention. It’s dangerous. It’s addictive. Farleigh could never submit to anyone else.

• Felix and Oliver making out all over Oxford (everyone pretending not to see them because what the fuck?)

• The Cattons become ghosts at Saltburn when they die, and my word does it get terribly dull. It wasn’t so bad when the last of the Catton bloodline was alive; there were great parties, a roster of interesting people always in and out of the place, and the drama was relatively entertaining… Oliver was the most interesting thing to happen to Saltburn in centuries. The Catton family should’ve hated the man, but holy shit he was a total firecracker. The ghosts of Saltburn never felt more alive then when Oliver wrecked absolute havoc on their family. Following Oliver around became prime entertainment and betting pools were formed on his very first day. When Felix died he was met with a round of applause for singlehandedly reviving the Catton ghosts entertainment bank. When Sir Catton died he was shunned to months of silence for kicking out the best thing to ever infiltrate the Saltburn manor. When Elspeth brought Oliver back the betting pool was up and running again in seconds. The Cattons brought tickets to Oliver’s Monologue (2022). There was popcorn and Felix’s great great great grandmother took notes. After the great monologue of 2022 things died down quite quickly, but there was still moments of entertainment that made it all worth it. Oliver’s Dance (2024) might as well have been an Oscar winning performance. Farleigh’s Return (2030) was talked about for years. Felix’s Great Sulk (2006-2022) was a heavily documented tragedy. (the ghosts started spending most of their time outside after Felix began spending all his time following Oliver around and trying to find a way to make him family so the two of them could be together forever)

[blueberrylixie]

yes, professor

professor changbin x fem! student reader 

word count: 9,903

content warnings: oral sex (m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, pussy job, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie (use protection kids!), professor kink, pet names (princess, angel, baby), light degradation (bin calls her a slut mostly), spanking with hand and a ruler, classroom sex.

let me know if i missed anything in this one-shot bc i tend to miss stuff! if you want to skip to the smut, scroll to the white heart divider!

Your first day of your last year of college was already off to a bad start. 

Not only was it already eighty-eight degrees out at only ten in the morning, but you had tripped and fallen on your way out of your dorm, and skinned your knee. The cut still hurt like a bitch, even as you traipsed the fifteen minutes to your first class of the day. 

And that was really the cherry on top of this miserable summer day. You had to attend your first and only college math class. And you were absolute shit at math.

If you had your way, you wouldn’t be taking this course at all. Not only were you bad at the subject, but you hated it. You wanted to become a technical writer, which 90% of the time didn’t actually require you to know any math. Writing? Love. Science? Fine. Even history was passable, Cs get degrees and all that. But math, for lack of better words, was the bane of your existence. You even struggled to pass back in high school. 

So no one could blame you for putting off this class until practically the last second. You didn’t want this to be your very last course before graduation, because that would be absolute torture. So you buckled in to take it your fall semester instead.

And oh how you were regretting it. 

Now, you stood outside the classroom. The little window on the door was covered with white paper, so you couldn’t see inside. If you could, you would probably have run away. 

Instead, you steeled yourself, straightened your shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed it open. 

You had arrived a few minutes early, a little later than you usually were to other classes. You had admittedly stalled back at your dorm for as long as possible, knowing what was in store. 

You took a seat in the second row, a few seats away from a quiet-looking guy with dark hair. You pulled a notebook and pencil out of your backpack, before looking up at the front of the room.

And that was when you saw him.

He was standing facing away from you, writing something on the chalkboard. He wasn’t very tall, but he was incredibly built. His broad shoulders flexed in that navy blue button-up as he wrote, and you couldn’t help but check him out. His movements were confident and sure, like he knew he belonged up there. 

You’d never had a hot professor before. Maybe that was about to change.

Of course, he could have an unattractive face, you reminded yourself. Or even worse, a shitty personality. Just because he was ripped didn’t mean he was hot.

Then, he turned around.

Dear God. Your heart rate picked up immediately, your chest contracting as you gazed upon him rapturously. You didn't want to look behind you to see if anyone else felt the same way. There was no way they didn't. 

His dark hair was styled casually, wavy bangs sweeping across his forehead. He had kind, intelligent, yet humorous eyes, adorned with thick-framed black glasses, and small but full lips. Your eyes kept zeroing in on them, and you found yourself wondering what they would feel like against yours.

You shook your head, instantly clearing that thought from your mind. You could not be imagining your professor in that way. Even if he was young, maybe five years older than you at the most. You could not think about him like that. You were terrible enough at math as it was, and you couldn't afford to get distracted.

But when he smiled at the class, your mind went blank, forgetting your little pep talk. God, how could a man look so fine by simply existing?

“Good morning, class,” he said, pointing up at the board. My name is-“

Seo Changbin. 

You read the two words, written in a rushed, messy scrawl. You almost mouthed his name, wanting to feel what it was like to say it. But you kept your mouth shut. 

“My name is Seo Changbin, and I’m your professor this semester,” he continued. “This is a mid-level calculus class, so if that’s not what you’re here for, then you should probably leave now.”

You inwardly sighed. Taking a mid-level math class when you hadn’t taken math in four years seemed dangerous. And honestly, in any other situation, you might have hopped up and left, off to find the easiest possible course the school offered.

But how could you pass up the chance to be around this absolute specimen of a man for an entire semester?

So you stayed put.

“Good.” Changbin moved his hair out of his face, and you watched with a fervor you never thought possible. If your friends could see you, they would call you a simp. For this man, hell yes you were. 

“Now, I’ll be coming around with the syllabus.” He held up a stack of papers. “We’ll go over it, and then jump into the first lesson. Don’t worry, it’s nothing crazy. Yet.” He smirked, and your breath stuttered in your throat. Every time you assumed he couldn’t get any hotter, he inevitably did.

He started making his way up and down the rows of students, handing them the small syllabus. He greeted a few who he must have known from a previous course, asking them how their summer was. 

So he was an attentive teacher, too. Dammit.

Finally, he reached you. When your eyes met, just the hint of a smile graced those perfect lips. You held his gaze, unable to look away. Your entire body was on fire, and you crossed your legs in what you hoped was a casual manner. 

For a split second, you could have sworn his eyes flicked up and down your body, once, checking you out. But it was so fast, you couldn’t tell. Your face was so hot, you couldn’t think straight.

“And what’s your name?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of you. 

As you introduced yourself, he took a step nearer, leaning down. He wasn’t even that close, but you instantly felt the need to pull him to you. You weren’t sure if he felt it too, but the energy between you was magnetic. 

“Are you new here?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen you in my class before.”

“No, I don’t usually take math classes,” you responded. “This is my first and only one, actually. I’m an English major, but it was required.”

“So you’re a senior?” he chuckled. “Waited till the last possible minute to join us, did you?”

You shrugged, embarrassment threatening to overwhelm you. But you didn’t let it show, simply shrugging and smiling at him. “Math isn’t my thing.”

“Well, hopefully I can change that,” he grinned, handing you a syllabus. “Welcome.”

As he started class, you became enthralled with how knowledgeable he was. While most everything went over your head, you found yourself wanting to understand what he was saying. You wanted to impress him, wanted him to be proud of you. So while you would usually space out and succumb to boredom, you actually read the syllabus in its entirety, and took vigorous notes. Even if it was boring, you wanted to hear every word that came out of Changbin’s mouth.

When class was over, and you were packing up, Changbin walked over to the desks, saying goodbye to some of the students. You ignored him, not wanting to come off as too eager.

“It was nice to meet you, Miss English Major,” Changbin said, and you looked up, shocked that he remembered anything about you.

You glowered at him, rolling your eyes playfully. “Is that all you’re going to refer to me as from now on?” you teased.

He shrugged, straightening his shirt and smiling. “Once I get to know you, I’m sure I’ll refer to you as something else. For now, have a good day, Miss English Major.”

——————————

Two weeks passed uneventfully. 

Changbin’s calculus class had started ramping up, and you were barely surviving. Everything was very confusing, and you found yourself blacking out for most of class just staring at your hot professor, instead of learning. All your other courses were a breeze, which left you tons of time to focus on failing to understand basic math. 

You and Changbin had continued to talk, a little bit every day after class. He would ask you about your other courses, mostly about writing and all kinds of grammar. He seemed genuinely interested in you and your life, which was so opposite from any other teacher. He even wanted to know about your personal life, like your family and friends. You told him everything. Except the fact that your friends were dying to meet your aforementioned “hot professor”. It felt nice knowing that he supported you, even if you were inevitably going to fail his class.

You fell into a nice groove, of sorts. You would act cool, funny, even effortless, to his face, and when you got back to your dorm, when none of your roommates were back yet, you would touch yourself to the thought of him. Fantasizing about his rough, strong hands holding your thighs open as he ate you out, or him caging you in between his huge arms as he pounded into you from behind. You couldn’t help it, you were infatuated by him. You wanted him, no matter how terrible you were doing in his class.

All that changed on the Monday of your third week.

“Next week, we’re having our first test,” Changbin announced as he stood at the front of the room. He turned on the projector to display a PowerPoint presentation with information about the test.

It would be thirty percent of your overall grade. One test?? Thirty percent??

You felt your mouth hanging open as you stared up at the screen, then down at Changbin. How could such a kind, handsome man do this to you? Was he trying to make you fail?

Changbin met your eyes, and a smile graced his lips. You snapped your mouth shut, feeling your face warm. He definitely just saw you gaping at him like a fish. Totally smooth.

“I know some of you may be worried, and some of you may not,” he said. “And if you’re one of the former, I would love for you to stay after class and talk to me about it. I know you all have the ability to pass this test. Every answer to every question is in your notes. Study those as hard as you can, and you’ll be more than fine.”

You could feel your heart rate picking up as you thought back on the dozens of pages of notes you’d taken over the past four classes. You couldn’t think  of anything that made sense. How were you supposed to take a test and pass? Let alone one that was worth so much of your grade?

For the rest of the lecture, you could scarcely pay attention as you continued to spiral. Clearly, you should have just taken a different class, hot teacher be damned. To be fair, you hadn’t expected the class to be this hard. 

As the class ended, you started packing up in a daze. You had a morphology course - one of your favorites - next, but you were thinking about skipping it so you could study for this test instead. Even a week straight of studying probably wouldn’t be enough for you to pass, so you needed all the time you could get.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice someone calling your name, over and over again.

“Miss English Major! Miss!” Changbin finally called, and your head whipped around to face him, your cheeks warming at the nickname.

“I-sorry, what’s up?” You stumbled over your words, trying not to look completely flustered. From his look of understanding, you knew you had failed.

“Would you like to study with me tonight?” he asked gently, approaching your desk. 

“Ah, why would you think I need extra studying?” you asked quickly.

“I have eyes,” he said with a quiet laugh. “And you look like you’re about to pass out. Really, the test isn’t going to be hard. But like I said earlier, I’m more than willing to tutor any student who needs help. I have the time.”

You sighed. “Am I really that obvious? Or do I just look like an idiot?”

Changbin shrugged, moving so he stood in front of you. “I can tell you’re really smart. You just don’t believe in yourself. So… I’ll see you at six tonight? I’ll bring donuts?”

You relented, grinning. “If you bring glazed donuts, I’m in.”

“Are there any other kinds?” he winked. “See you tonight.”

Oh, you were so done for.

——————————

You arrived at 5:55pm, terrified of being late, or wasting Changbin’s time. You assumed he was so busy already, and you didn’t want him waiting on you.

Seeing as he wasn’t there yet, you just stood awkwardly at the side of the room, unsure if you should pull up a seat by his desk, or just wait for him.

He arrived a few minutes later, carrying a cardboard box from the campus donut shop. Your heart leaped when you saw him, dressed in a casual black t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, and jeans. He would have fit right in as a student. 

“Oh, you’re already here.” Changbin grinned at you, and your face heated. He was so hot when he smiled. 

“I’m always on time,” you pointed out.

“You’re always late to my class,” Changbin chuckled, shaking his head.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t like your class,” you countered.

“Ouch.” He came to sit at his desk. “Here, sit with me.” He motioned to the chair next to his. 

“So, what would you like more help with?” He asked when you got settled.

You sighed. “What don’t I need help with?”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Am I really that bad of a teacher?”

“No!” you said hurriedly. “Math just really isn’t my thing. I probably made a mistake taking a mid-level class. Everything is just really over my head. It’s not your fault.”

“Well, we can start from the beginning,” Changbin conceded. He glanced down at your notebook, which was covered in your neat but hurried scrawl, and even a few shitty doodles at the top of each page. “May I?” he asked, pointing at them.

You nodded, pushing them towards him. 

He took it, and flipped back to the beginning. “You’ve taken really thorough notes,” he complimented, and you blushed. At least you were doing something right.

“I’m trying to pay attention to you.” You smiled weakly.

Changbin started pointing at things in your notes, trying to explain them as thoroughly as possible. You had to admit, he was very good at dumbing down every concept, and even gave you examples of when they might be used in the real world. That tended to be your struggle with math. None of it made any practical sense, it was so abstract. At least with words, they always correlated to a real-world thing, or concept. Math was filled with what-ifs, and you hated that.

As he pointed at your notes, he moved closer and closer to you, his arm brushing yours. Your skin tingled from the touch, almost desperate to feel more of him. His arms were so firm, entirely made of muscle. Of course, you had known that from hours of staring at him. But being this close to him, getting to touch him, was intoxicating, making your mouth water. If only you could reach out and-

“Are you even listening to me?” Changbin’s voice snapped you out of your lusting. 

“Yes! I was just uhh…” you paused, unsure what to say.

He raised an eyebrow at you, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. 

“Ah, no I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” You ducked your head, unable to meet his gaze.

He turned his chair to face yours. “I’m sorry, this is all probably way too much all at once. I should have realized that,” he apologized. “Maybe we should take a five? Then we’ll get back into it.”

You brightened, nodding quickly. “Yeah, that would be great.”

He grinned, sitting back in his chair. “You’re nothing like my usual math students, you know.”

You raised your brows at him. “That sounds like a badly veiled insult, Professor Seo.”

His eyes darkened for a moment at the way you said his name, but he seemed to shake it off immediately. “No, it’s just an observation. You’re very different.”

“How?” Your eyes drifted over to the box of donuts, which sat untouched next to you.

He shook his head at you. “Because of stuff like that. You’re very easily distracted. Just have one, or I’ll never get your attention back.”

You smiled apologetically, before tearing the box open and grabbing a glazed donut. “I can’t believe you actually brought these for me.”

“For you??” Changbin exclaimed. “Nah, I wanted them. You were just an excuse. Pass one here.”

You glared, taking a bite. “Okay that’s rude. I would think you cared more about your struggling student.” You handed him a donut.

He laughed at that before taking a bite too. “Of course I care about you.”

You gazed into his eyes, watching the way his throat moved as he swallowed. Your eyes flickered back up to his, wondering if there might, just might, be a hidden meaning behind that. 

Before you could stop yourself, or fully process what you were doing, you felt yourself moving imperceptibly closer to him, like there was an invisible force pulling you. 

Your face was a mere foot away from his, your eyes remaining locked with his. “How else am I different from the others, Professor?”

He groaned, a low sound deep in his throat, and you saw a flame flicker to life in his eyes. A flame of desire, you wondered? Did he want you just as badly as you wanted him? Had he thought about you in the same way you thought about him? Your stomach twisted with desire, hot and potent. 

Your hand reached out to grip his thigh, desperate to touch him. But before you could make contact, his hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“What-“ you began.

“We can’t do this,” he said. His voice was quiet, but firm. 

“What are you…?” you trailed off, your heart thudding so hard your head hurt. Was he rejecting you right now? After that almost animalistic noise came from him, just by making eye contact?  A noise that would most definitely be used to fuel your nightly desires? “But you were just flirting with me!”

“I was,” he paused, licking his lips. You wanted to know what that tongue tasted like. “But I can’t. You’re my student, and it was incredibly unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.”

You pulled your hand from his grip, moving your chair away from him, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s continue studying.”

“Okay.” Changbin nodded, picking up your notebook again. “Onto lesson two.”

You continued the study session for another hour, before bidding him farewell. He promised that he would continue to help you study for two hours every night, and you agreed. He also demanded that you take the rest of the donuts home, but you refused. It felt wrong, somehow, to take something from him. 

You walked back to your dorm, body burning with shame.

——————————

For the rest of the week, you dutifully attended each study session with Changbin, carefully avoiding any kind of physical closeness with him. You knew that if you got near him again, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. 

Your thoughts were plagued by images of him. The way he smirked playfully at you when you got a question wrong, the glimmer of pride in his eyes when you got one right. His strong arms as he leaned over your notes, and his tight ass and muscular legs when he stood in front of the chalkboard to write every morning, or give lectures. 

No matter how hard you tried to ignore your growing feelings for him, you couldn’t help it. Every night, you found yourself desperately touching yourself to the thought of him doing unspeakable things to you, imagining it was him ravaging you instead of your vibrator. Him straddling you from above as he pounded into you with that thick cock, instead of your fingers. At this point, you knew it would never happen, but the forbidden, risky aspect turned you on even more.

Finally, the day of the test had arrived. Your heart had been racing with adrenaline. The night before, you had left this very classroom, saying goodnight to Changbin before cramming even more. 

“Good luck, Miss.” He’d smiled at you on your way out.

“Thanks, I’m really gonna need it,” you had replied.

“No you don’t,” Changbin said as you left.

The test had been shockingly easy. You weren’t sure if it was because Changbin purposely made the questions simpler than usual, or if his study sessions really had helped. But you whizzed through that test like never before. It gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t absolute shit at math after all.

Now, Changbin was passing out the test results. You hoped your gut instinct that you’d done well was right.

He placed the test on your desk, shooting you a faint smile.

“Well done, Miss English Major,” he whispered, so quiet you could barely hear him.

You peeked at the top right corner, almost afraid of what it said. 

92%.

Your head whipped around to face Changbin, who was now a couple of desks down. 

Holy shit. Not only had you passed, but you passed with an A! How was that possible??

You wanted to run over to him and leap into his arms, but you had to hold yourself back. No one, including Changbin, wanted that.

You would wait until the end of class to celebrate.

As you packed up your bags, Changbin cleared his throat. 

You looked up to see him motioning you towards him. Of course, you couldn’t help but obey.

After the other students had left, you approached him, a huge smile plastered across your face.

“I passed!” you exclaimed, suddenly breathless. “I-I can’t believe it! Thank you.”

He shook his head, unable to hide his smile. “It was all you. You studied harder than I’ve ever seen any student do before. You earned it.”

Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his midsection and hugged him.

“Seriously, thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ve never gotten an A on a math test, ever.”

Changbin laughed, and for a split second you thought he was going to hug you back. His arms raised to grab your waist, and your heart thudded in anticipation. You had thought about what it would feel like to be in Changbin’s arms countless times.

But instead, he pushed you away. His movements were gentle, respectful even, like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

It did quite the opposite. It stung more to know that he wasn’t an asshole who just wanted a girl's attention, but he thought he was doing the right thing in rejecting you for a second time.

“Well… thanks again,” you said lamely, moving away from him. “I’ll see you next week.”

You practically ran out of the room, tears stinging your eyes. You wouldn’t let yourself get hurt again.

——————————

Changbin stood at the front of his classroom, preparing for that day’s lesson. It was two months into the semester, and about time for another test. The last one had been almost a month and a half ago, and his students were beginning to get complacent. It was his job to make sure they didn’t get too comfortable.

It had also been about a month and a half since he’d properly talked to you. Ever since you had thanked him for all his help on that first math test, you had avoided him. 

He wished you wouldn’t. But you were right to. He would have done the same thing if roles were reversed.

He had rejected you, twice. Those glorious five days tutoring you were some of the best times he’d had in his entire three years as a professor. He’d never met someone half as bright, witty, or funny as you. 

Or as beautiful. 

Let’s be real, fucking sexy.

That first day of class, when he’d turned around and met your gaze, still stuck with him. Those curious yet guarded eyes of yours instantly drew him in, and he’d had to inwardly slap himself just to focus on his job. He’d never let anyone distract him from work before, let alone one of his students. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and ever since he got the job, he’d made a promise to himself never to date a student. From watching his colleagues, it never ended well.

And no one had ever made him question that promise. Until you.

Everything about you intoxicated him. The way you rolled your eyes at his cringey jokes, that little crease in your left eyebrow when you were focusing extra hard, the dimple on your left cheek when you smiled. Your determination to be good at whatever you put your mind to. And something he hadn’t expected: your desire to please him. 

In a strictly professional sense, of course. Or so he convinced himself. Until you two had almost kissed. And he’d told you no. That had to be in the top five of his stupidest moments, and he had a lot of those.

For that whole week, he’d found himself wishing that you would try again. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. When he went home to his empty apartment, he found solace in his hand, thoughts solely on you. About the way it would feel if it was your hand instead of his, gripping his shaft as you stroked him up and down, those nimble fingers knowing exactly where to place more pressure, where to be gentle. That pretty mouth of yours wrapped around him, taking his thick cock to the hilt. And he would cum to the thought of you, knowing that he couldn’t have you.

Even when you hugged him after the test, he still rebuffed your advances. Why? What the hell was wrong with him? He wanted you, you wanted him. It was legal, you were both adults. And yet, he had still rejected you. 

He still thought about you, obsessively so. The more he came to the fantasy of you, the more he became reliant on your presence, craved it, really. He looked forward to seeing you everyday in class, even if you didn’t speak a word to, or barely looked at him. But your beautiful self walking to his class by yourself, gave him a sense of security.

Today, he arrived at class, eagerly awaiting your presence. When he turned around to face the door, slightly concerned because even two minutes into class, you hadn’t arrived, his stomach quite literally dropped.

Because you weren’t alone. 

——————————

Hwang Hyunjin was the smoothest man alive.

You’d noticed him sitting a few seats away from you since the first day of class. He was incredibly smart, but tended to keep his mouth shut. He was always busy writing or drawing something on his notes instead of paying attention, and when you weren’t busy staring at Changbin, you found yourself watching him instead.

The two of you had been paired up for a class discussion, and he mentioned that he loved art. Being the creative that you were, you asked him what he liked to draw, and he showed you some of the doodles he did during class. They were good, really good. 

When he asked you out for coffee a month into the semester, you’d had no choice but to say yes. And you had a great time. 

It was clear that Changbin had no interest in you, so who could blame you for wanting to spend time with another hot guy? Who cared if you still thought about him in the privacy of your dorm, late at night? That was just a phase. Every college girl had a crush on her professor at some point, right? 

You and Hyunjin weren’t really seeing each other, it was casual. So you had never come to class together, or showed any sign that you were interested in each other.

Until today. 

Hyunjin had walked you to class, after treating you to coffee. You were even later than usual, but you found that you didn’t mind.

But when you walked into the classroom, and Hyunjin suddenly grabbed your hand, it was clear that someone minded. They minded a hell of a lot.

Changbin’s eyes seared into the two of you, his gaze roaming over both your and Hyunjin’s faces, before landing on your connected hands. His jaw clenched and unclenched, a vein ticking in his forehead, but he stayed quiet. His fists were pulled tight at his sides, those huge arms flexing in a most mesmerizing way. You couldn’t help but stare. Was there the potential that he was… jealous? 

Of you. Being with another guy.

Before you could think about it further, Changbin cleared his throat, and Hyunjin sat next to you for the first time that semester. 

You should feel giddy that this gorgeous man was sitting with you, but you couldn’t pay attention to anything, except your stud of a professor glaring at Hyunjin like he wanted him to disappear. 

“Today, we’re going to be discussing next week’s test,” Changbin ground out, his teeth gritted so hard you could hear them scraping against one another. “Mister Hwang, do you remember what our first unit after last month’s test was?”

Hyunjin paused next to you, brows furrowed. How was he supposed to remember what you’d learned over a month ago, off the top of his head?

“No Professor, I don’t,” he said evenly. “If I could just check my notes-“

“No, you may not,” Changbin snarled, his eyes narrowed as he stared Hyunjin down. “Clearly, you weren’t paying close enough attention.”

“Professor!” you exclaimed, blood pounding. Why was he targeting Hyunjin all of a sudden? You thought he liked Hyunjin.

“What?” Changbin sneered. “Trying to protect your boyfriend?”

“Just don’t.” You rolled your eyes, looking away from him. 

For the rest of the class, Changbin continued to pick on Hyunjin, calling on him for the hardest review questions, and actually laughing at him when he couldn’t remember.

Finally, when class was over, the two of you made to leave. 

“Miss, please stay behind,” Changbin practically growled, gaze hot on your back.

“Will you be okay?” Hyunjin asked, glancing between the two of you.

You nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you later.”

Hyunjin followed the rest of the class out, casting one last look back at you.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

You stood behind your desk, staring at Changbin. He stared back at you, expression unreadable. Was he upset? Of course he was. He wasn’t very good at hiding that during class. 

He walked to the door and slammed it shut, the force startling you. But when he clicked the lock in place, your chest seized up. What was he doing? 

“Come here.” His voice was soft, yet you could hear him clearly. His face looked calm, but you could see the fire in his eyes as he gazed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you wordlessly obeyed, coming to stand in front of him.

Was this really going to happen? Was he-

Before you could formulate a proper prediction, his lips were on yours. His hands fumbled at your waist with a desperation you didn’t expect, even in your dirtiest fantasies. He picked you up, grabbing your ass roughly as his plush lips forced your mouth open, sucking and biting with enough pressure that would leave marks in the morning. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Changbin growled against you between kisses. Your hands slid into his hair, clinging to him as you kissed him back with equal strength. 

“What took you so damn long?” you gasped, pressing your tongue into his mouth and rolling your hips against him.

He groaned, the sound low and guttural, before setting you on his desk as gently as he could. He slid a finger under your tank top strap, pushing it down slowly, his gaze devouring your skin rapturously.

“I’ve been so good, so in control,” he breathed as if you were torturing him, his mouth coming to land against the shell of your ear. You shivered at the sensation. “Until today, when you decided to bring that poor Hwang boy along with you. What are you, boyfriend and girlfriend?”

You shook your head quickly. “N-no, it’s casual,” your voice shook despite yourself. “We’ve just been hanging out.”

“You like that he’s willing to give you attention when I wouldn’t?” He leaned down, nipping at your shoulder and collarbone. “Has he fucked you?”

You moaned softly, closing your eyes. “No, of course not,” you whispered. “And even if he had, why would you give a shit? I made a move on you, and you fucking rejected me, twice!”

Changbin let go of you, stepping back. For the first time, he looked embarrassed. Good, as he should. 

“I'm sorry, Princess.” He slid a hand down your arm, skating his fingers across your skin. “I thought I was making the right decision. But… I want you all to myself. Is that so bad?”

You glared at him. But no matter how long you tried to play hard to get, you knew damn well how this was going to end. You needed him too badly.

“Well, you better prove how much you want me, then.”

His mouth curled into a smirk, and your core dampened at the sight. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He pushed you back against his desk, shoving your legs apart, before tugging your denim shorts down your legs and ripping your panties clean in half.

“Changbin!” you gasped. Those were your nice panties, too.

“What? You won’t be needing them,” he smirked, holding them to his nose and inhaling a hungry breath, before tossing them away. “And from now on, you will call me Professor, not Changbin.”

You gaped at him for a moment, before you realized he was watching you expectantly.

“Y-yes… Professor,” you said weakly.

He smiled, kissing your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender way. “That’s my good girl. Now I’ll make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”

He traveled down the length of your body, pressing kisses to your bare thighs as he went, admiring every inch of you. Your breaths came in short gasps as you laid in anticipation. You didn’t know much, but you were sure that Changbin was experienced when it came to sex.

As he gazed in appreciation at your soaked cunt, he tore his glasses off and set them on the desk, licking his lips. “Gonna need to get close and personal, huh Princess?”

Oh yeah, he was most definitely experienced. 

But nothing could prepare you for the sensation of Changbin’s tongue against your center. He pressed his mouth flat against your clit, swiping his tongue up and down in broad strokes. He covered your entire pussy with his warm, wet mouth before sucking and licking in earnest. 

“Holy shit, yes,” you gasped, your eyes widening as your hips jerked up against his movements.

He grabbed your waist to stop you, his tongue fucking in and out of your cunt as his lips pressed against the sensitive nerves above it. You moaned, your hand finding purchase in his hair as your vision sparked in and out, stars flashing before your eyes.

“Fuck, faster, please,” you begged, tugging his hair as you tried to pull him closer.

“What’s my name again, Princess?” he rasped against your core, his voice interrupted by his continued slurping. 

“P-professor, please,” you whimpered, gazing at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Fuck, how could I say no to you, Princess,” he snarled against you, yanking your legs open even further as his tongue moved impossibly faster, two of his fingers sliding into your pussy, adding even more squelching sounds to the mix.

The addition of his fingers nearly sent you spinning over the edge, your free hand gripping the side of his desk as your legs shook, your thighs trying to squeeze his head.

“Stay nice and spread for me, Angel,” he sucked hard on your clit, and you sobbed his name over and over, clutching at him like your life depended on it, your entire body vibrating.

“Professor, I-I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut as you ground your hips up against him, this time Changbin allowing you.

“Cum for me, Princess, let me hear you,” Changbin ordered, pressing his tongue in just the right way against your throbbing pussy.

With a strangled cry, you rode out your orgasm against his mouth and fingers as he thrusted them in harder and harder, working you through your release as you crested the peak and came tumbling over, your whole body falling onto the desk in a trembling, sobbing mess.

“Was that good enough for you, Princess?” Changbin licked his lips as he gazed at you smugly, coming to his feet and gazing down at you.

You rolled your eyes, standing up to meet his eyes properly. “It was amazing, Professor,” you murmured against his lips, before kissing him forcefully. The taste of you lingered on his lips.

He kissed you back hungrily, his fingers traveling back between your legs to rub your clit gently, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You licked his bottom lip, grinding against his fingers as you moaned into him. 

“Let me return the favor,” you whispered, pushing him against the desk this time, before kneeling in front of him.

“Let’s just hope you’re better with your mouth than you are at math,” Changbin teased. But you could see the desire flaming in his gaze as he caressed your hair with a rough hand, fully pushing you down onto the floor.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Professor,” you said sweetly, and he groaned, eyes flickering shut.

“No more dawdling Angel, open up.”

You unzipped his black work pants, tugging them down to his knees. Even with his dark gray boxers on, you could tell he was huge, and already hard. Pulling his underwear off, his cock sprang free, angry and red, leaking precum.

Your eyes widened, and Changbin kicked his pants to the side, smirking down at you. 

“Big enough for you, Princess?”

“Perfect, Professor,” you breathed, gripping the base with one hand.

“Ah shit,” Changbin gritted his teeth, his hand already tangled in your hair. “Don’t make me wait too long, Princess. I’ve already been waiting for months.”

You giggled softly, sticking your tongue out and kitten licking the pretty pink tip. He was quite thick, so thick that your hand could barely fit around him. He was about seven inches long, with a pretty vein running along the right side. Your core throbbed at the sight, imagining how well he would fill you up. 

“Fuck,” he snarled, thrusting into your hand impatiently, a bead of precum dribbling onto your skin. “Are you asking me to punish you, Princess?”

You felt your core clench at his words, and you almost hoped he would just flip you over and spank you for disobeying him.

But that could happen later. Instead, you slid his entire length into your mouth, taking him so deep your nose hit his hips. Coarse brown hair tickled your face, and you shut your eyes. 

“Holy-“ Changbin choked out as you began sucking hard and fast, using your hand to rub the base where your mouth couldn’t reach. Your saliva instantly became sloppy, running down his cock and onto his waist.

“Oh fuck yeah, just like that,” he grunted, tugging your hair roughly as he thrust his hips against you, driving his cock further into your mouth. “I bet you just love being my little cockslut, don’t you Princess? You like me using you like this.”

“Mm,” you moaned, sending vibrations up his cock. He shuddered at the sensation, his huge, muscular legs flexing next to you. One of your hands gripped his thigh, the other squeezing his taut ass as you fucked your mouth up and down on him so he didn’t even have to move.

“Oh shit, you do know what you’re doing, don’t you, Slut?” He ran his hand through your hair, and you felt a tinge of pride shoot through you. A thin line of tears dotted your lash line and your jaw hurt, but you didn’t care. He was impressed with you, and that was all that mattered. 

“Only for you, Professor,” you gasped as you took a quick breath, before sliding him back into your mouth. Your hands moved to cup his balls, and he growled, loud and animalistic, against you.

“Fuck Angel, you’re such a good girl for your professor, aren’t you?” he moaned, pulling your hair into two makeshift ponytails as he started fucking against you in earnest.

You started to choke on his harsh ministrations, but you didn’t want him to stop. Your core was so wet, arousal was dripping onto the ground. 

“I’m gonna cum, Princess,” Changbin growled, as his hips stilled. “But I don’t want to cum in your mouth. I want to breed that little pussy of yours. How does that sound?”

“I-it sounds amazing, Professor,” you breathed as you pulled his rock-hard cock out of your mouth.

He grinned, yanking you into another bruising kiss. “That’s my good little Cockslut,” he murmured, picking you up and setting you back on the desk. “This is exactly how I imagined fucking you for the first time. You look so beautiful lying there, all wet and ready for me.”

You whimpered softly, shooting a seductively innocent look at him.

“Fuck, do you know what you do to me, Angel?” He closed his eyes, his body trembling at the sight before him. “Even better than my imagination.”

“You’ve thought about me, Professor?” you said faux-shyly, grabbing his hand and placing it against your core.

“Of course I have, Princess,” Changbin chuckled, opening his eyes again as his fingers roamed over your clit gently. You shivered at his touch. “Who wouldn’t think about ruining a perfect girl like you?”

“I'm not a virgin, Professor,” you pointed out. 

“I know, but you’re perfect,” he responded, stepping closer. “Just look at you.”

“Professor?” you asked softly, gazing at him. “Can I ask just one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Can you take your shirt off?”

Changbin’s eyes flickered in amusement. “Do you like my body, Princess?”

You nodded vigorously. “I love your body. I think about it all the time.”

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, leaning over and pressing harsh kisses against your neck. “What do you think about?”

“Fuck me, then I’ll tell you,” you breathed against him, starting to undo his shirt buttons.

He tugged the shirt over his head hurriedly, before coming to hover over you again, those perfect, muscular arms of your dreams caging you in. You whimpered at the sensation alone, pulling him closer to you so you could grab his cock, stroking him a few times.

“Fuck yes, Princess,” Changbin choked out, before lining himself up outside of your core. “I need to be inside you right now.”

“I need you inside me too, Professor,” you begged, moving your hips back and forth against his hard cock, wet squelching sounds ensuing as his cock rubbed through your slit. You threw your head back at the overwhelming sensation, moaning into his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he pulled your face up and kissed you once. Then, screwing up his eyes, he slid his entire cock into you in one harsh thrust.

“O-oh shit!” you cried, eyes widening and hands coming to grab his broad shoulders. He filled you perfectly, his girth stretching you deliciously, that vein rubbing against your walls just right. “Fuck Professor, you feel so good inside me.”

“God, you feel heavenly Princess,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “Can I move? Please, tell me I can move.”

“Please move, now,” you gasped, fingernails digging into his back. “Don't be gentle with me, Professor. I can take it.”

“Yeah? We’ll see about that, Angel.” Before you could say anything else, he pulled all the way out, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, before thrusting back in with all his strength. 

You squealed, fingers scrambling for purchase against him, as he pounded in and out of your tight, wet pussy over and over, filthy noises filling the classroom. 

You whimpered against his neck, pressing harsh kisses against him as he thrusted in and out, balls slapping your pussy as he went harder and faster. His cock slammed against the spongy part inside of you, causing you to cry out and clench around him.

“Ah shit, Princess, ease up a bit!” he grunted, nipping your neck as his hips stuttered against yours.

“Y-you just feel so good,” you sobbed. “Please fuck me harder, don’t stop, please, Professor.”

Changbin listened, continuing to hit that sensitive spot over and over again until you were a babbling mess, unable to say anything except “Professor”.

“Fuck baby, can you stand?” Changbin demanded into your ear.

“Y-yes Professor,” you breathed, and before you could stop him, he was carrying you over to the chalkboard, and setting you down, so your face was towards the board, ass presented to him.

“Well shit, don't you look like a treat,” he whispered, slapping your ass with a calloused hand, before trapping you between his arms once more, his mouth against your neck. 

You gasped at the stinging sensation of his hand against your skin, but it wasn't fully because of the pain. Him slapping you felt good. What did you have to do for him to do it again?

His fingers traveled between your legs again, feeling the dripping wetness that gathered there. You felt him smirk against you.

“Did my Princess like it when I spanked her? Does she like it when she gets punished?”

You nodded vigorously, closing your eyes. Was he going to think you were disgusting for liking something so violent? 

Changbin started chuckling, and you glanced back at him. Did he find this funny?

“I might have underestimated you, Sweetheart,” his hands traveled up to your breasts and squeezed, making you squeal. “I guess you were right. You’re more of a whore than I thought.”

“N-no Professor, I’m a good girl,” you gasped, rubbing your ass against him as you begged for him to hit you again. “I just need you so bad, please.”

“You want me to hit you again?” Changbin snickered. “Okay, I can hit you again. Anything for my princess.”

He stepped away from you, leaving your skin cold. You missed his hulking presence warming you, his huge arms caging your body. 

You watched with wide eyes as he stepped back to his desk and picked something up. What was he doing? He couldn’t leave you hanging like this.

But when you saw what he had in his hand, you knew he very much was not leaving you hanging. He was just getting started.

“A ruler?” you said softly, staring at the wood strip in his hand. Your core pulsed at the sight, causing more arousal to slide down your thigh. Fuck, you wanted it.

“You said you wanted to get slapped, didn’t you, Princess?” he challenged.

You nodded, trying to hide your desire. If Changbin saw how much you needed this, he might deny you.

“Yes, Professor,” you responded, not moving from your position at the chalkboard.

“Good, Angel,” he approached you with a satisfied grin on his face. “So, are you ready for your test?”

“Test?!” you squeaked. You hadn’t expected that. You’d hoped he would just slap you with the ruler a few times, then fuck you silly.

“You’re going to have a math test in a few weeks, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want me to tutor you still?”

You nodded furiously. You would fail without him.

“Well, consider this our first session.” He came to stand behind you, running the ruler up and down your thigh a few times. 

You shivered despite yourself. You would do anything he wanted at this point.

“So, answer this problem, Princess. The axes of two right circular cylinders of radius A intersect at a right angle. Find the volume of the solid of intersection of the cylinders.”

You gasped at him, speechless. You had no idea what any of that meant. Solid of intersection? You were an English major, for god’s sake!

“I-I don’t know Professor!” you whispered, body quivering as you waited for his response.

Changbin tutted quietly, pacing back and forth behind you. You tried to watch him, but he kept going in and out of your line of sight.

“What a shame.” His voice was dangerously low. 

Suddenly, the ruler came slashing through the air, landing across the center of your ass. You let out a loud gasp, covering your mouth before you could curse or yell. 

“Chang- Professor, what the hell?” you exclaimed, whipping around to face him.

“Did that stir up any potential answers?” Changbin said smoothly, ignoring your protest. “Please turn back around, Angel. We're not done yet.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but you caught that steely look in his eyes, and obeyed. 

“Well?” he prompted. “Anything?”

“N-no, Professor,” you said meekly. “We haven’t learned anything half that difficult yet.”

This time, as the ruler made contact with your ass again, you were prepared. You bit your lip so hard it almost drew blood, but you had to admit, it felt… nice. The stinging sensation it left after the pain was gone was incredible. 

“Fine, if you can't come up with even a guess, how about this. What is the mathematical perception of the gradient said to be?”

You paused, thinking the question over. You knew Changbin had talked about this in a lesson at some point, but it had been a while ago…

“Is it tangent?” you said with a little smile. You knew the answer was wrong but… you also didn't mind.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” Changbin grinned, and the stinging pain of the ruler raced across your skin.

You let out a stifled moan, squeezing your eyes shut as hard as you could. Oh god, did Changbin hear that? He was going to think you were such a whore.

Changbin set the ruler down on his desk and slid a hand around your waist, breaths coming hard and fast against your neck. You whimpered softly, unable to look back at him. 

“I knew you liked that, you little Pain Slut,” he snarled into your ear, nipping the lobe. “You're my little Pain Slut, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, only yours!” you exclaimed. “P-please Professor, fuck me again.”

“Mm, you're just insatiable aren’t you?” he snickered, his hand coming down onto your ass cheek, sharp and hard. “Now say thank you, Professor.”

You cried out, your core soaking wet. “Th-thank you Professor!” You forced out through the blinding pleasure.

His hand came down on your other cheek. “Again.”

“Thank you, Professor!” you moaned, turning your face to him and pressing your lips against his. 

He didn't pull away, as the hand he used to spank you wound around your leg, lifting it up so your body was still facing the chalkboard, but your lips were attached to his. 

“I’m gonna fuck you like this now, Angel, down and dirty. I’ll bet you like it like this, don't you? Seducing your poor professor, and letting him have his way with you in his classroom. That's exactly what you wanted, wasn't it?”

“No, I didn't mean to seduce you,” you mumbled against his mouth, as he positioned his hard, heavy cock outside your entrance. “You're just so hot and smart, and I wanted you so bad. But you kept rejecting me so I gave up, remember?”

“How do I know that little boyfriend wasn't just part of your plan to get me to change my mind?” Changbin challenged, finally breaking the kiss. 

“Well, if it was, it worked, didn't it?” You teased him. “Now are you going to fuck me or not?”

Changbin growled deep in his throat, thrusting his hips slowly against you, running his cock through your wet folds. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready to fuck you, Princess. Not sure you deserve it, with all the stunts you’ve pulled. And you didn't even get that easy math problem right.”

You giggled softly. “If I get it right, will you fuck me properly? Nice and rough?”

He paused, like he was pondering the question. “Sure, Angel. What’s the right answer?”

You turned around, pressing your lips against his ear gently. You watched in satisfaction as he shivered. Thank god he was holding your leg up, or you would be numb by now. “It’s the slope,” you whispered to him, lips curling in a smile. You knew you were right.

“Mm, you knew the right answer the whole time, didnt you, Slut?” Changbin shook his head at you, a hungry glint in his eyes. “But you were a good girl, listening to your Professor so well. So I guess you get a reward.”

“Yes please, Professor.” You immediately started begging at the prospect of his cock inside of you. “Please fuck me now.”

“It takes a lot of self control to stay away from you,” Changbin groaned. “Self control that I clearly do not have.” 

This time, he thrusted into you nice and slow, one inch at a time. You gasped loudly as he shoved you up against the chalkboard, still holding your leg up, as he began pounding in and out of you mercilessly. 

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me, Angel,” he hissed into your hair, breathing deeply as he did so. “So tight and wet, squeezing me perfectly. You hear that? This pussy is all mine.”

“Yes, it’s all yours,” you wailed, fucking your hips back against his, forcing his cock to impale you to the hilt. “You feel so good inside of me, Professor.”

“Mm, hell yeah I do baby.” His huge arm wrapped all the way around your waist, trapping you entirely as he hammered in and out, the lewd sounds of his length thrusting turning you on even more.

“Fuck, Professor please touch me!” you begged, grabbing his arm that was holding your leg up and sliding it towards your clit. 

“You’re such a greedy little girl, aren’t you?” he sneered, pressing rough kisses up and down your collarbone, sucking harsh bruises along your soft skin. “I can’t deny you though, can I?”

His fingers slid over your sensitive nerves and rubbed in rushed, frantic circles as his hips pounded against yours, causing the entire chalkboard to shake and rattle. 

“O-oh yes Professor just like that,” you panted, your legs nearly failing as he turned your entire body to jelly. 

“Don't give up on me now, Princess,” Changbin warned as he spun you around and picked you up, not removing his cock from your throbbing pussy. “You don’t cum until I do, you hear?”

“Of course, Professor,” you whimpered helplessly, the new position hitting spots inside of you you hadn’t known even existed. “Please go harder!”

“Just for you, baby,” Changbin ground out, and he started bouncing you up and down on his huge length.

The vein on his cock slid against your nerves addictively as you wrapped your shaking legs around his waist, clinging to his beefy arms desperately. Your core throbbed as you tried to be a good girl and hold your orgasm back, but it was coming.

“Please Professor, let me cum!” you pleaded, pressing kisses up and down his huge pecs, sobbing into his chest. “I’m so close, I’ve been so good!”

Changbin grunted against you as he bullied his cock deeper and deeper into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over while you pleaded incoherently to please, please let you cum.

“Shit, okay, cum for me baby,” he hissed.

You didn't need to be asked twice. Your hips shook against him so violently you thought you were going to pass out. Stars blinked in and out of your vision as you cried, “Professor, please!” once, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, as he pounded his cock infinitely faster. His fingers pressed against your clit, and you were done for. You exploded around him in a puddle of whimpers and moans, clutching onto him for dear life.

“Holy shit baby, you’re so fucking hot,” Changbin panted, squeezing his eyes shut, his thrusts becoming more jerky and unstable. “I’m so fuckin’ close, Princess, gonna cum inside that slutty little pussy of yours, yeah?”

“Oh fuck, please give me your cum Professor!” you begged, moving your hips in time with his. “Want you to breed me like the good girl I am!”

“Fuck Angel, you really want it?” Changbin hissed, his hips stuttering as his lips smashed up against yours again. “You wanna feel my hot cum inside you?”

“Yes Professor, please, I need it,” you breathed against his mouth, biting his bottom lip and sucking it into your mouth. 

Changbin thrusted sloppily in and out a few more times, his breaths stilted and hoarse, before halting entirely inside of you. You felt his warm cum fill your pussy, ropes and ropes of hot, sticky liquid, and you let out a shaky moan, closing your eyes at the sensation.

As he was about to put you down and pull out, you shook your head, gripping his arms.

“P-please, stay inside.” Your legs tightened around his waist. His softening cock felt so good, keeping his warm cum inside you. You didn’t want him to let go, not yet.

“You like me cockwarming you, Princess?” Changbin’s cock stiffened at your actions, and you nodded.

“You feel so good inside of me,” you sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I bet I do,” he said cockily, and you slapped his arm.

“Way to ruin the moment, Changbin,” you glared.

He laughed, finally letting go of you and setting you back on the ground. 

“I'm kidding, baby.” He pressed his lips against yours, much more tender this time. You melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. 

“I like the confidence.” You giggled against his lips, before breaking apart. “I should probably go. I've got another class in an hour, and I don’t want to walk in looking like this.”

“I wouldn't want that either,” Changbin observed. “You might get dress-coded. Or arrested.”

When you were both dressed and semi-cleaned up, you waved goodbye to Changbin.

Changbin waved back, a little smirk on that handsome face of his. 

“So, we on for another study session tonight?”

You smirked, biting your bottom lip before replying: “Yes, Professor.”

laska's note — wow, this one shot took me forever to finally finish! but i wanted it to be perfect you y'all, so i spent a long time figuring out the plot and exactly how i wanted everything to go. i really hope you enjoyed it, because i'm kinda proud of how this turned out. i'm sorry for the slow ass updates, but again it's just supposed to be for fun! hopefully i'll get some more content out soon. leave any comments about what you liked, i love reading them! until next time... 😏💋

[ultr4vjolence]

@ULTR4VJOLENCE MISC RECS .ᐟ

𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ AARON HOTCHNER

ᥫ᭡ a joyful future

a criminal minds big family!au where aaron gets the love and security he deserves.

ᥫ᭡ agents and asphodel

you hand in your resignation to the BAU.

there is no fanfare, no warning. one minute you’re there, and three weeks later, you’re gone, ousted at the insistence of strauss. but an unknown past holds the key to your personal horror story, one that you thought ended years before and is back with a vengeance — one set on taking you far, far away from the people you call your family.

ᥫ᭡ of terrible coffee and late-night rides

he watches you. maybe the two beers are going to his head, despite his infamous reputation as a heavyweight — all he knows is that his eyes follow as you slip through the crowds, sending beaming grins to some people you know from the office, and... you don’t know, do you? you don’t know how you make people feel. how you make every person you lay eyes on feel like they’re the only one you see; like they’re one in a million. important. you capture their attention with just one look and you keep it, too. you never go away — you burrow yourself into his brain and make a place for yourself there and—

their brains. that’s what he meant.

or: moments throughout your relationship with one aaron hotchner.

ᥫ᭡ moments

agent aaron hotchner, your boss, absolutely hated you. he was suspicious of your true intentions. but you were determined to prove yourself to him, no matter how long it took. or— the long, painful, winding road it takes for you and aaron to get your happily ever after.

ᥫ᭡ intelligence & issues

you’ve been working for the BAU for almost a year now. you know how you feel about your supervisor, but you also know it’s a lost cause. when the next case the BAU is assigned takes the team to your hometown, will it bring the two of you closer, or rip you apart for good?

ᥫ᭡ a hard day’s night

after graduation from the FBI Academy, all new agents go through a year of new agent training before becoming official agents of the bureau. by some stroke of luck, you get assigned to complete your training with the department you’ve always wanted to join— the behavioral analysis unit. you signed up for a year of profiling, case work, and catching serial killers, but you’re in for more than you could ever dream of…

ᥫ᭡ wanna be yours

professor hotchner’s criminal law class has a reputation. professor hotchner has a reputation. on your first day, you manage to draw his anger. he seems to hate you. what happens behind closed doors... that’s a different story.

ᥫ᭡ accidents

as the newest member of the BAU, you had nothing but professional respect for your boss, ssa aaron hotchner. sure, he was an attractive man, but your mind had never strayed even close to considering him as anything more than a capable and accomplished unit chief. this changes drastically through a series of “accidents” and in the end, there is nothing professional about your relationship anymore.

██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 20%

𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ SPENCER REID

ᥫ᭡ 3

is it okay to do wrong things for the right reasons? they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions (feat. unsub reader). this is not a love story. there will be no happy ending.

ᥫ᭡ phoenix

it’d been 10 weeks since spencer died in your arms. at least, that’s what you thought. (rewrite of the emily/doyle arc with spencer taking emily’s place)

ᥫ᭡ be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me

“i love you, i love you,” he murmured between pecks. tangled in the sheets, his long arms still enveloped your form as he peeked up at the small clock on the bedside table behind you, a heavy sigh promptly escaping his lungs as he read the time, “but i really gotta get up and go to work…”

ᥫ᭡ here to misbehave

spencer spots you at a nightclub and quickly becomes smitten. only problem is he’s an FBI agent and you’re under 21.

ᥫ᭡ domesticity

reader gets worked up watching spencer with kids. he notices.

ᥫ᭡ santa’s gift

reader asks her husband what he wants for christmas.

ᥫ᭡ sunscreen & statistics

reader asks for spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and washing it off after).

████▒▒▒▒▒▒ 40%

𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ AEGON II TARGARYEN

ᥫ᭡ when the world is crashing down

your family is house celtigar, one of rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. in the aftermath of rook’s rest, aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. now you are in the lair of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…

ᥫ᭡ north to the future

the year is 1999. you are just beginning your veterinary practice in juneau, alaska. aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. you kind of hate him. you are also kind of obsessed with him. falling for him might legitimately ruin your life… but can you help it? oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the ‘ice fisher.’

█████▒▒▒▒▒ 50%

𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ AEMOND TARGARYEN

ᥫ᭡ the pawn in every lover’s game

when you’re ten, your father sends you to king’s landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. a lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

ᥫ᭡ children of the empire

you are the eldest daughter of rhaenyra, princess of dragonstone, and twin to her heir, prince jacaerys. when your younger brother assails your uncle in a childhood squabble, your grandsire, the king viserys, offers your hand in marriage as payment for aemond’s lost eye. plighted in a match that is beheld by many and desired by none, you find yourself alone in a nest of vipers, forced to watch as your mother and the queen maneuver and vie for influence within the court and the realm. despite your youth, fears, and insecurity, you know you must apply your will and wits to one claim or another, but this choice becomes more and more difficult as you find yourself further entrenched within the family who would see your mother and siblings fed to the flames.

ᥫ᭡ studious

your marriage to the one-eyed prince is not as romantic as you hoped. the wedding night is beyond awkward and confusing, and afterward, your husband seems more than content to ignore you. but you keep finding yourself drawn to him, and the strange way he makes you feel.

ᥫ᭡ to make them love me (and make it seem effortless)

you clutch the collar of his shirt. “why do you want to marry me, aemond?”

he looks down at you, and his hands twitch by his sides, no doubt wanting to feel your warmth permeate through your clothes. he can feel your heart hammering underneath your ribs, and he’s sure that if you slide your hands lower, you could feel his racing similarly. your body melds so perfectly to his, and you breathe in sync, as if engaged in a dance of their own. every molecule of your body thrums to life underneath his fingers, every second that passes between you is charged with a tension that threatens to push the both of you over the precipice, and still you do not see.

he hates that, even with one eye, he does.

you await his answer with bated breath, but he sees the way your eyes briefly flicker down to his lips.

ᥫ᭡ take me to the lakes (where all the poets went to die)

you and prince aemond hadn’t seen each other for years since you left the red keep. now, you’re back.

ᥫ᭡ comet donati

sex, drugs, boy bands. you are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help comet donati through a recent crisis. things are casual with aegon, very not-casual with aemond. loosely inspired by one direction.

███████▒▒▒ 70%

𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ JOEL MILLER

ᥫ᭡ i know it when i see it

it’s the golden age of porn. sex and sin are the national pastime. you fled your suffocating small town to make dirty movies in the big city. you’re paired with joel miller for your first scene.

pornstar!joel miller AU

ᥫ᭡ allowed to be happy

while snowed in on a scouting mission, you tell dina the story of how you and joel met.

ᥫ᭡ mercy.

in a dog-eat-dog world of sliced throats and broken bones in exchange for primal survival, begging for mercy should have been the very last resort.

especially when a certain survivor was holding you at gunpoint.

ᥫ᭡ mr. rattlebone

settled in at jackson, joel and reader avoid their feelings for each other for their own safety.

ᥫ᭡ guard duty

guard duty was absolutely the worst, you thought to yourself with a bitter sense of resolution, but at least it meant some peace and quiet. the watchtower was set directly above the main entrance gate to jackson, a closed off wooden structure with stairs leading to the inside and an outer catwalk circulating it.

sometimes, the town could get on your nerves with how full of life and bustling it seemed to be; but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. that sort of thing was a hidden oasis in a world like this, almost too good to be true, and you knew you were lucky to be part of it, even if it meant never ending guard duties at the early hours of morning, when the sun still wouldn’t be out for quite some time.

you sighed again.

“if you sigh one more time,” joel muttered in a monotonous voice, “i swear, i’m gonna throw you outta this window.”

ᥫ᭡ too early, too cold

early mornings are always slow, specially during winter.

█████████▒ 90%

𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ BELLAMY BLAKE

ᥫ᭡ sub rosa

it’s easy to think that you’re swimming in the sky. floating with the stars, weaving between them, part of the sky, the way you always dreamed you could be.

or, a clarke griffin!twin, bellamy blake x reader rewrite for the 100. complete.

ᥫ᭡ in this new light

slow, soft and sleepy morning sex.

ᥫ᭡ pretty fixation, wicked temptation

you and bellamy had spent a one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep. a century of not touching each other catches up to both of you but finding somewhere to satiate your urges undisturbed is quite difficult. maybe a new planet will be just the place. but first, what’s a little challenge to heighten the tension?

██████████ 100%

A C C E S S G R A N T E D. . .

ultr4vjolence © 2023 .ᐟ

[five-and-dimes]

A White Blank Page

Hob Gadling messed up, and he just wants Dream to forgive him. But first he has to convince Dream that he did, in fact, mess up.

AO3

The first problem, Hob thinks, is that Dream ultimately struggles with balance. Left to his own devices, he is a pendulum swinging back and forth, never managing to settle in a comfortable middle. It is endearing, and frustrating, and heartbreaking, and so very sweet, but Dream simply tries much too hard. 

The second problem, is that Hob has had a fucking terrible day.

It starts off wrong when he hits ‘off’ instead of ‘snooze’ on his alarm. By the time he’s realized his mistake he’s forced to skip coffee and breakfast in order to have any hope of getting to work only a little late.

Which means he’s hungry, tired, and developing a caffeine headache during his least favorite class of the week. In general he loves his job as a university professor, but every now and then he got groups like this one- who never did the readings, didn’t participate, and overall made it very clear that they didn’t want to be here, no matter the work Hob put into the lesson plans to try to get them engaged. 

By the time he finally makes it to the staff break room, he only manages a single sip of coffee before turning a corner and immediately running into another professor and dumping the hot liquid all over himself. It’s about then that he begins to suspect with growing dread that this is just going to be One Of Those Days.

And unfortunately, he’s right. He spends the work day in a coffee stained shirt, a student after class eats up half his lunch break asking questions that were definitively covered in the syllabus, he hits his knee hard on the edge of his desk, and when he finally gets to his car to go home, he finds the battery dead and ends up spending nearly an hour tracking down someone with jumper cables to give him a jump start.

The door to his flat slams shut behind him as Hob practically throws his messenger bag on the floor. Sighing heavily, he ran his hands through his hair as he made a beeline for the shower. You’d think after six hundred years and many days far worse than this one that he’d be less of a mess. But the truth was, as much as he loved life, he was still human, with a human’s temperament and an absolute disdain for stupid days like this one. Especially when he gets out of the shower and realizes he forgot to grab a towel, the minute warmth and relaxation he’d managed effectively killed when he’s forced to run wet and naked through his cold apartment to fetch one from the linen closet. 

So yeah. It’s been a terrible day.

He’s frustrated, and annoyed, and just over this damned day. All he wants is something quick and easy for dinner and maybe a drink before falling into bed to make the day end faster, who cares that it’s barely 6pm.

And that’s when Dream arrives.

In hindsight, Hob should have been expecting him. Dream usually stopped by to visit his lover near the end of the night, sitting with Hob to hear about his day even if just for a little before being drawn back to his duties. They scheduled their longer dates, but Hob was accustomed to Dream popping in whenever he had a chance and knew that Hob was free. His appearance now was not unusual.

But Hob wasn’t thinking about his usual routine. All he was thinking about was his own frustration with everything around him. So instead of a small startle that he brushed off with a laugh, the sudden sound of swirling sand and a deep voice greeting “Hello Hob” had him jumping, his heart racing as his hands flailed and knocked over the beer he had just opened.

That is, apparently, the last straw.

"Jesus, FUCK," Hob slams his hands on the counter, face twisted in anger and he misses the way Dream flinches as he snaps around and shouts, "Would it kill you to use the bloody door? At least then I'd have the option not to open it!"

There is a moment where Hob swears the lights flicker, and Dream’s face darkens like a shadow has passed over him. It is there and gone too fast for him to be certain it wasn’t just his own rage warping his vision.

But then, much more blatantly, Dream… shrinks. Although maybe it's just the way he curls in on himself, averting his eyes and clasping his hands in front of him.

"I sincerely apologize, Hob," there is genuine guilt in Dream's voice, and even through the haze of anger it makes Hob's chest clench. "I will return another time more appropriately." He bows his head and between a blink of an eye is gone from the apartment as quickly as he had arrived.

Hob stalks into the living room, grabs a pillow off the couch and screams into it.

~~~

The next morning, Hob feels… good. 

Well, physically he feels good. He has vague memories of a pleasant dream, his body feels loose and well rested, his blankets are warm and comfortable, and he has just enough time before his alarm goes off to get up leisurely. It is, all things considered, a perfect morning.

Which makes him feel, emotionally, like complete and utter shit.

In general, Dream does not interfere with Hob’s sleep. The exceptions being scheduled dream dates, and one instance when Hob had had persistent nightmares for over a week and eventually resorted to begging Dream for a night of dreamless sleep. Most of the time though, Dream has expressed that he thinks it’s important for Hob to experience the Dreaming without his meddling, which Hob understands. If anything, he thinks it makes the times he does spend lucid in the Dreaming more special.

But this morning has the unmistakable impression of Dream’s influence. 

When they first reunited, Dream spent every other breath offering Hob things. Boons and answers and powerful trinkets, anything Hob might want in order to make up for his actions in 1889, and for his absence in 1989. It had taken several weeks for Hob to convince him that he was forgiven. That he didn’t need to ‘make up’ for anything, didn’t need to pay Hob back in any way.

This- this perfectly peaceful sleep and soft morning- feels the same. An offering Dream has left at his feet in hopes of forgiveness. 

Yeah. Hob feels like shit.

Forcing himself to rise, to disentangle himself from the comfort of his blankets, he makes the decision to deal with one thing at a time. He quickly shoots an email out to the class he has today. He knows he has no hope of focusing on lecturing today, and so he apologizes for canceling at the last minute and attaches a file for a worksheet to complete for the next week. He takes a shower, and in a moment of indulgent self-deprecation, keeps the water icy cold, washing away any lingering comfort from his restful night.

Sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of coffee, he sighs and puts his head in his hand. He knows he overreacted, that his words were mean and entirely uncalled for. A small part of him shivers in fear that Dream won’t come back- that his anger with Hob will drive him away just as it did in 1889. But he shakes his head, trying to think logically. Dream has promised him, more than once, to always come back to Hob. Not to mention, Dream’s influence on his sleep the night before suggests that Dream is not gone, but simply waiting for Hob to calm down. 

He’s on his second cup of coffee when he looks up and happens to glance at the window. There is, he’s pretty sure, a raven on his windowsill. That raven is, he’s pretty sure, Matthew. They’ve met a handful of times, and he doesn’t think a normal raven could give the impression of glaring quite like this one. Then again, given his luck the past few days, he could very well be about to open his window for a perfectly normal waking world crow. 

Approaching the window cautiously, he calls out, “Matthew? That you?” 

“No, it’s your mother. Now be a good boy and open the fucking window.”

“Jeez, I was just checking…” Hob grumbled as he unlatched the window, allowing Matthew to glide inside and land on the back of one of his kitchen chairs. “Did… did Dream send you?”

Matthew looks ruffled, “Yes and no. I was just supposed to keep an eye on you from afar, but I have GOT to know what’s going on.”

Hob frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that the Dreaming is freaking out. There are these earthquakes popping up all over the place, and when I asked the boss man about it, he just said he ‘wronged Hob Gadling’, which coming from him could mean anything from he broke a teacup to he accidentally started a war. So then he’s all, ‘Matthew’,” he deepened his voice in an impression of Dream, “Go and check on Hob Gadling and bring me news of his emotional state’. Which, I THINK means find out if you’re mad at him? So.” He shrugs as much as a raven is able, “Are you mad at him?”

Hob really doesn’t want to cry in front of Matthew. Still, he can’t keep his voice from cracking with guilt when he answers, “No.” He takes a deep breath, tries to steady himself, “No, of course not! I just… I had a bad day and I overreacted.”

“Oof, we’ve all been there,” Matthew shakes his head sympathetically, “What’d he do to set you off? Cause he feels real bad about it.”

Here, Hob hesitates. Sometimes he feels like Matthew doesn’t really like him, and he has the boyfriend instinct to want, very badly, for Dream’s friends to approve of him. He doesn’t think Matthew will approve of this.

“He… he didn’t really do anything. He, uh, showed up and startled me and I just… y’know… yeah.”

Matthew, expectedly, looks extremely unimpressed, “He ‘showed up’.”

“I mean he, y’know, he did the thing where he just appears, and it always gives me a heart attack but this time I just-”

“Well have you fucking told him that?” Matthew squawks at him, “Jeez, I thought he killed your dog or something the way he was acting. No wonder he didn’t want to check on you himself if he thinks just being here is what made you mad at him!”

“I know!” Hob collapses onto the couch, burying his face in his hands to hide the way his eyes have begun to water, “I feel awful. Could you please, please tell him that? I want to see him so I can apologize properly.”

“Hmf,” Matthew grumbled, looking as annoyed as a raven can, “I’m tempted to let you stew, except for the fact that that would suck for the boss too. Also I’m afraid if I wait too long all those earthquakes are going to turn into a ‘Tremors’ situation.”

Hob let out a sigh of relief, looking up to give Matthew a grateful look, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. But you owe me! I want one of those cakes that’s soaked in rum, got it?”

“Anything,” Hob says without hesitation.

Matthew grumbles a bit more, but looks somewhat sympathetic as he flies back out the window to deliver the message. He knows the raven is right- he’s never told Dream not to do his magic appearing act, he’s always just laughed and greeted him, never gave any indication that Dream should change his arrival. And to be honest, it really didn’t bother Hob. It had just been poor timing the night before, through no fault of Dream’s, and Hob felt awful that his lover got caught in the crossfire of a simple bad day.

So he sits patiently, back straight like a child in the principal's office, mentally rehearsing his apology. Time passes, and he’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he nearly misses the soft knock on his front door. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he stands to answer. He’s halfway to the door before he realizes what is happening, and he sprints the rest of the way.

It feels petty, but he figures Dream has earned a bit of pettiness given Hob’s behavior. Sure enough, when he throws the door open, it is Dream standing before him. He is standing straight and regal, as he always does, but Hob swears he is smaller than usual- shorter, thinner, more delicate. As statuesque as ever, but glass instead of marble. 

“Hello Hob.”

Dream’s voice is carefully neutral, and Hob can’t help but wince, “Dream, thank you for coming.” He steps back, gesturing for Dream to enter, which he does after a brief moment of hesitation. As he closes the door, Hob takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to grovel to one of the forces of the universe. It’s not like he’s never gotten into a fight with a partner, he’s certainly had his fair share of screw-ups, but that doesn’t make it feel any better. Not to mention, there’s always the lingering fear of Dream not accepting his apology and simply storming off to a place Hob can’t follow. 

Well, there was nothing for it but to try. So with one last steadying breath, Hob turned to face Dream.

“I would like to apologize.”

Hob blinked. His mouth was open, but it was Dream’s voice that rang through the room.

For a long moment they stared at each other in silence, and then Hob shook his head in confusion, “I-... what?”

Dream stiffened, his hands clasped regally in front of him and his eyes on the floor, “I wish. To apologize. For my behavior yesterday. I will do whatever you require of me to make amends.”

There was another pause while Hob gaped, feeling lost, “Wait, you’re not mad at me?”

“For what?” Dream tilted his head in question.

“For- for snapping at you! I yelled at you, for no reason! I should be apologizing to you!” Hob’s arms flailed as he explained, but Dream remained still and stoic.

“Nonsense.” He replied, “You did no wrong.”

And here, Hob frowns, his confusion of the situation shifting into concern. “Yes, I did,” he states slowly, “Dream, the way I acted wasn’t okay.”

“Why? You are within your rights to admonish me when I am at fault.”

“But you weren’t at fault!” 

“Obviously I was, to invoke such ire from you.”

“No, no, no,” Hob waved his hands frantically, “That’s exactly my point. I was in the wrong here, because you didn’t do anything and I snapped anyway. And, and I was mean, it’s okay if you’re mad at me for that.”

Dream blinked slowly, expression blank and unchanging at Hob’s words. Hob ran his fingers through his hair, groaning in frustration and dropping down onto the couch, "Oh my God, I've never had to convince a partner to be upset with me before."

"And you do not have to now," Dream frowned, cautiously moving to sit beside him, "You are allowed to express your displeasure with me. I was the one who misstepped. Tell me what I must do for you to accept my apology. Please."

"You don't have anything to apologize for! That's what I'm saying! I need to apologize because I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that-”

“I would not begrudge you taking your frustrations out on me when I am the cause of such frustrations," Dream interrupted. His voice was even and cool, back straight as he sat still and regal. He was far too put together. Especially next to Hob who was literally pulling his hair out.

"No, see, that's-" Hob paused, breathing deeply and trying to at least somewhat compose himself. 

"Okay. First of all, you weren't the cause of my frustrations. I'd had a bad day and snapped when I shouldn't have." Dream opens his mouth to argue but Hob cuts him off, "And secondly, even if you were the cause, that doesn't give me the right to be mean. We're in a relationship, that means we talk about these things. You’re allowed to be mad at me when I fuck up.”

Dream stares at him blankly, brows furrowing ever so slightly in confusion, and Hob throws his arms in the air, “Christ, it wasn’t this hard to make you mad when I called you lonely.”

It’s a low blow and Hob knows it, regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips, but if nothing else he hopes maybe Dream will finally snap back.

He doesn’t.

Lowering his head in shame, Dream seems to wilt in front of him, “Yes. It is precisely that which has lost me any right to shy from your retribution.”

Hob gaped in blatant horror, “You don’t lose the right to your feelings just because you messed up once-!”

“More than once,” Dream interrupts, his voice hardening, and he forces his eyes up to meet Hob’s gaze, “I have wronged you many times in our acquaintance. You have been kind and generous with me, but I have not forgotten that I have earned your retribution.”

It is perhaps not the best response, but all Hob can do is lean forward, put his head in his hands, and breathe deeply. 

It’s not like he didn’t know Dream had some messed up ideas about relationships, but it’s still a lot to take in at once, especially after a day of bracing for something completely different. He was prepared for anger and offense. He was not prepared for this shame.

He realizes that he would take Dream’s pride over this any day.

“Dream,” he speaks slowly, turning back to look at where his lover is still sitting rigid and tense beside him, “I forgave you for that. I forgave you for all of it, a long time ago. There’s… there’s no scoreboard between us.”

He wants, very badly, to take Dream’s hands into his own. But a part of him feels like Dream might shatter if he touches him. Dream’s eyes search his face, and when he speaks, his voice is cold. 

"It is not. Just you,” he says, “I have made many mistakes during my existence. I have hurt many people. I am greedy, and arrogant, and do not connect well with others. And I was blind to it, for so long. I know it took me too long to recognize that and to begin making amends, but I am trying to do better now,” Here his eyes drop, shame and sorrow and defeat drawing tears to the corners of his eyes, “I am not doing this right. I know I'm messing this up, and it is unfair of me to ask, but I would gladly give you anything if you would give me another chance."

“I’ll give you as many chances as you need,” Hob replies carefully, “but you don’t need one this time. You aren’t messing anything up. You haven’t done anything wrong. This time I messed up.”

“You did not-“

“Yes, I did,” Hob cut in firmly, "I'm not perfect. You know I'm not. Not every fight or argument is going to be your fault. I'm going to make mistakes too, and I'm not going to let you blame yourself for things that aren't your fault. And I definitely don’t want you to just…. let me hurt you.”

Dream blinks, and while his face remains blank, it’s becoming more obvious how much of an effort it’s taking him to keep it that way.

“Even if I deserve it?”

Despite himself, Hob stands in frustration, “You don’t deserve it!” He snaps.

And here, finally, Dream snaps back, “I have hurt you in the past-“

“That doesn’t mean I’m allowed to hurt you!” Hob interrupts, “Come on, you can be mad at me! You can have feelings when I mess up, and then we’ll work it out and move on, but don’t… don’t just wave it away.” There’s a long pause, and Hob asks, “If I mess up later, would that mean I lose the right to be mad at you?”

Dream snaps his head to meet his gaze, “That’s different.”

“How?”

“You’re different.”

“How?” Hob repeats, insistent.

Dream’s jaw tenses, grinding his teeth together as he looks at Hob with something between sorrow and frustration, “You are a person. You cannot hurt me the way I can- and have- hurt others. The rules are different for me because the consequences are different.” His hands are clenched into fists on his lap, his eyes darting to the side as he grinds out quietly, “I have more than proven that I do not learn when I am given leeway.”

There is a stretch of silence, Dream sitting tense and miserable while Hob stands and tries to find the words that will just make all of this better.

Finally, Hob moves to sit beside Dream again, ducking his head to try to catch Dream’s eye, “Being hurt isn’t a lesson for you to endure. Me being mean to you isn’t going to make you a better person or whatever.”

Dream still won't look at him, so he reaches out to lay a hand on one of his tightly clenched fists, “Dream… what are you afraid of?”

For a long moment, Dream simply stares down at where their hands are touching. Hob can feel the slightest tremor in his fingers as he slowly answers.

"Sometimes…” He falters, inhaling deeply before continuing, “Sometimes terrible things happen to good people." Here, he finally looks up to meet Hob's gaze, everything about him resigned and defeated, "You are a good person. I do not want to be the terrible thing that happens to you."

Hob feels his breath leave him like he’s been gut punched, “You’re not a ‘thing’. You’re not terrible, either. And I’m not as good as you think I am. I think, somewhere in there, you know that.”

“Hob-”

“I’ve committed atrocities. You know that, because you talked me out of committing them for longer, and that’s just the ones you heard about. I did a lot of things between our meetings, Love. I think I’m just… younger. Maybe I haven’t had the time to make a list as long as yours, but give it time.”

“Yes, you are younger. And already you are learning from your mistakes. I am ancient. My wrongs are ancient. And only now do I seek to be better. How monstrous would it be, then, to dare feel hurt by my punishment when I have so earned it?”

“I wasn’t punishing you! Not then, not now, not ever. Dream, you’re trying, so hard, I see that. We’re both just two bad people trying to be better, and I’ll forgive you your mistakes along the way if you’ll forgive mine. But I need you to see mine, first.”

There, again, he sees the way Dream’s jaw tenses, a slight shift like he’s grinding his teeth together. Hob realizes, in that moment, that the anger is there, tightly leashed and buried under the heavy weight of shame.

Feeling brave, he reaches out to cup Dream’s face in his hand, stroking his thumb along the tense line of his jaw, “Look, I’m not asking you to storm off again. I’d actually really rather you didn’t. I appreciate that you’re trying to change and react better than before, I do, I think it’s amazing. I think you’re amazing. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be upset with me at all.”

Dream releases a sharp exhale through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut. But he also leans a little heavier into Hob’s hand. He is slow to speak, gathering his words as well as the courage to speak them. Eventually though, he admits to Hob softly, “When you… reprimanded me, I was... Frightened. That I had managed to drive you away without even noticing,” his voice wavers and becomes impossibly softer, “That I managed to make you hate me despite my best efforts.” He swallows thickly before visibly steeling himself to continue, “And then. I was irritated, I suppose.” Opening his eyes, he looks at Hob, and there is frustration, and fear, and confusion, “I would have changed my behavior sooner had you but told me that it bothered you.”

“I know. I know you would,” Hob assures, “The truth is, it doesn’t bother me. Not usually. It was just poor timing and catching me in a bad mood.”

Humming, Dream’s expression is still wary, “I will abstain from arriving unannounced from now on.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I would rather,” Dream interrupts, “not risk catching you in a ‘bad mood’ again.” His voice is a little stronger, a little more of the frustration seeping through, more confidence building the more Hob keeps holding him through it.

Hob nods, giving him a self-deprecating smile, “That’s understandable.”

Furrowing his brows, Dream tilts his head, looking at Hob in awe, “You… truly forgive me?”

“Of course,” Hob replies with no hesitation, “I’ll always forgive you. I’m not dating your past, I’m dating you. Who you are now. Who you’re trying to be.”

Dream searches his face for a long minute, confused and suspicious and still handing his heart to Hob all the same. He nods, “I wish you had not shouted at me. And I forgive you for it.”

Hob smiles, his body sagging in relief as he leans forward to press their foreheads together, “Thank you.”

Looking at Dream, Hob gets the feeling he doesn’t truly understand. That he thinks Hob will change his mind or come to his senses, that this is just something else to get his hopes up and his guard down so it hurts more when it crumbles around him. Hob doesn’t think this one conversation will settle Dream into a balance between his pride and shame. 

But they’ve got time. 

And Hob’s no saint, so he’s certain there will be plenty of opportunities for them to forgive each other. 

[gerec]

any fics which charles has the same vibe as Our House, In The Middle Of Our Street or Paper Monsters, aka fics in which Charles embarrasses himself due to the big crush he has for Erik.

Guys I have one more ask to answer after this one and then I'm officially taking a short break on answering rec posts. But I plan to pin a master post on my blog of the stuff I get asked most frequently for easy reference. Stay tuned and happy reading!!!

-------

Hi Anon, I believe the hilarious/charming fics on this list mostly fit the bill :D

best-laid plans by ikeracity

Charles decides that the best way to confess his feelings to his best friend is to surprise Erik at his apartment, naked, wearing nothing but a bow. It's perhaps one of Charles's worst ideas--or his best.

Order Up by ikeracity

Charles has a terrible habit of multitasking, and that is probably why he absentmindedly tells the pizza man that he loves him when hanging up.

Then the pizza man says it back. And Charles is pretty much smitten from there.

Favorite Mistake by endingthemes

Charles Xavier doesn’t think anything of it when he sneaks out without even saying goodbye to his latest one-night stand. What he doesn’t expect is to walk into his new position in the Xavier Industries marketing department and find that his latest hook-up is now his new boss.

erikhotfacelehnsherr by ikeracity

Charles has an embarrassing wifi password. When the subject of said embarrassing wifi password comes over, things get a little awkward.

going up? by annejumps

Charles encounters a hot man in the elevator. Charles assumes he doesn't understand English. Charles might be wrong.

Never Assume (Remix of going up?) by Fullmetalcarer

Charles fixates on a devastingly attractive lizard person who shares his turbo-lift and makes certain assumptions about their linguistic skills . . .

come as you are by scarlettblush

Hospital AU. The one where Charles unknowingly woos a coma patient with Pride and Prejudice. Years later, they meet again.

What Doesn't Kill You (Tactics and Strategy Remix) by pearl_o (don't forget to read the original!)

Charles is a graduate student with a crush on the professor he's TA-ing for and a side job at a strip club. Thankfully, his little sister is always full of helpful advice.

Smoke and Mirrors by dreamweavers

When newly paralysed Charles meets Erik in a coffee shop, a fit of nerves prompts him to project himself standing without need of his wheelchair. It all backfires when Erik asks him out on a date, forcing Charles to deepen his lies and, ultimately, face his fears.

Warning: Emergency Pull Tab by ikeracity

Knocking a guy over with an inflatable pool and nearly giving him a concussion is probably not the best flirting technique in the world, but if there's anyone who can pull it off, it's Charles.

Is it Erik with a C or a K? by ikeracity, kageillusionz

When Charles sexts his boss instead of his latest squeeze during one late night of report writing, the first thing he expects is a sexual harassment law suit and the last thing is Mr. Lehnsherr actually fucking him hard into his desk.

Infamous Ink by ConsultingWriter 

Charles has an embarrassing tattoo and a date with the no-nonsense, always professional, and terribly handsome Erik Lehnsherr.

The Wurst Case Scenario by sareyen

If anyone asked why Charles, come rain, wind or shine, made the significant trek during his dismal lunch hour to dine at "Edie's Kosher Delicatessen", he would stubbornly say that it was because their pastrami on rye and potato knishes were absolutely to die for. He wasn't completely lying, because the deli's namesake, Edie Lehnsherr, made the best matzah ball soup Charles has ever had in his life. Still, Charles would rather shave his full head of hair off than admit that the real reason he would willingly walk through hail and fire to get to the corner deli was because of Erik, the insanely attractive man working the counter.

[tokyo-debunkers-headcanons]

ahh since ur requests are open may I pls request the frostheim ghouls (and possibly leo? LOL) and how you think they would make it up to mc after making them upset? Preferably some hurt/comfort if possible but whatever is easiest for you!

Ahhhh my first request! Thank you for sending it in! Also I'm so sorry for any typos in these headcanons, I'm just dumb (so sorry to the Jin Kamurai fans) and this is assuming you guys are at least good friends (if not more) at this point in time.

JIN KAMURAI

Okay, real talk. I think Jin is terrible with emotions. Even worse when he's done something wrong. I don't think he'd ever SAY that he's wrong or that he's sorry. But we all know he's got that cash money, so I think he'd order MC to go somewhere with/for him and treat them as a unspoken apology. Like he's ordering them to pick something up for him, somewhere in the academy, and gives them some 'pocket change' to buy their lunch. (STOP! DRABBLE TIME!)

MC was considering telling Jin to shove it, but they knew it would end up biting them in the ass, so they walked through Frostheim, dragging their feet. They were less than thrilled to be going back to the Frostheim captain's room. Sooner than they'd like, they were standing outside of his door. Before they could knock like they usually did, the door swung open, revealing Jin, his eyes narrowed, he held out a small stack of documents to them, dropping them in their hands. He turned his back to them curtly saying,

"Get these to Professor Dante. Now."

MC wanted to say something. To snap back at him but they paused when they felt something at the bottom of the stack of documents. Upon further inspection, it was a wad of big bills. At a glance it was at least 100,000 yen (about 1,000 USD). MC's eyes went wide at the stack of bills, they looked back up at Jin's retreating figure. They were about to question why, when all he said was,

"Get something to eat once your done. Thats an order"

With that, he closed the door and ended the discussion.

TOHMA ISHIBASHI

Okay, Tohma on the other hand I think is better with emotions than Jin. But he's still not the best. He at least knows how to apologize...he's just bad at saying it. I feel like Tohma is more of an acts of service person (duh) than a verbal person if that makes sense. If he's upset MC its easier for him to do small things to apologize than to actually say the words. (here is your order of drabble, freshly written)

Tohma watched MC carefully behind his monocle, he knew they were upset and why. But he hadn't expected them to stay upset for this long. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, he waited until they would return the next day to finalize some documents with the second year ghouls. When the time came, Tohma took their jacket and prepared the a special blend of tea and biscuits for them while they worked on the papers. The practiced smile always on his face. After some time he returned with a tray, presenting it in front of them, his expression softer than before. When he set it down, all he said was,

"I've taken the liberty of bringing you something to eat. You've been working diligently as of late, among...other reasons. I hope you enjoy your meal"

With that, he swiftly left them to their work and their thoughts, giving them space.

KAITO FUJI

Kaito here is on the entire opposite side of that spectrum. He has absolutely no problem saying the words, but even if he was forgiven the first time, he still doesn't think its enough. So if anything, he does too much. He'll buy them flowers and chocolates to gain their forgiveness. It almost seems insincere how much he apologizes but he really does mean. Its more that his insecurities get the better of him and he doubts himself, so they might need to knock some sense into him for it to actually get through to him that he's been forgiven. Please be patient with him, he just really likes MC and he gets most of his advice from crappy magazines. (TO THE DRABBLE!)

Kaito held the bouquet of flowers in his arms tightly and held out the box of chocolates to MC. They had already told him that it was okay, but it didn't *feel* okay to him. There was a small voice in his head telling him that they were still upset with him. He had sent them a text, asking to meet in the library of DA academy. When MC arrived however, they sighed deeply, walking directly up to Kaito with a scowl on their face, saying,

"Kaito. I told you that its okay, you don't need to keep doing these kinds of gestures. If I was still upset with you, I wouldn't have shown up here to begin with"

Kaito's face went pale. He should have known they were smart enough to see right through him and his plan. He sighed, saying.

"I know you did i just-...I just wanted to be sure we were still cool....I'm sorry"

MC shook their head, their expression getting softer, they pulled out a chair from one of the tables in the library and sat down, saying,

"I'll forgive you, if you promise not to do anymore of these gestures....and you split those chocolates with me"

Kaito softly smiled and sat beside them, setting the flowers aside and the chocolates between them, he was so glad to know someone as sweet as MC.

LUCAS ERRANT

Lucas I think is closer to the middle of the spectrum. He's pretty literal and like I said before, he's not the best with social cues. From what I gather, he's more used to people saying what they mean. So if MC told them they were fine, he might worry at first, but he'd let it go, trusting MC enough to think they'd always tell him what was on their mind. If they do however tell him that they're still upset, that's different. If they were still upset I think he'd give them another apology and some bisuits. If that wasn't enough, then I think he's the type of guy to tell them stories about himself. Either about him and or his twin brother when they were little. Like really be vulnerable with them. (YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD! DRABBLE! YOU TAKE 420 LIFE POINTS WORTH OF DAMAGE!)

Lucas had been worried about MC ever since they last saw eachother. Something about them had seemed off in a way. He was even more worried when he got a text from them asking to meet him in Frostheim's main entrance. He quickly grabbed his things and raced off to Frostheim. When he arrived MC was standing inside, their face somber. He reached them, immediately asking,

"MC! Are you alright? Did something happen?"

He gave them a quick once over, even gently grabbing their wrist to look it over, making sure they weren't injured. When MC snapped their arm out of his grasp, he looked up at them surprised. When they explained that they were still upset with him, he understood. He asked them to follow him to one of the secluded balconies at Frostheim. When they arrived, it was silent for the first few moments. Luca pressing his hands against the balcony railing and looking up at the sky. Before MC could break the silence, Luca softly spoke,

"I've never been the best at putting myself in the shoes of others...at least not without guidance....Jin has told me so, and even my brother....when we were little I would always have trouble whenever he would get upset with me. He told me he was fine, but he never was. I suppose I still have quite a bit to learn about others around me...I'm truly sorry MC. I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me"

LEO KUROSAGI

Leo won't apologize. Let's be honest. If you think Jin is bad, Leo is WORSE. I think because of his fame and looks, that he's used to getting his way, even if he's a dick about it. I feel like he learned early on that the world is a cold cruel place and that saying you're sorry is admitting that you were wrong about something. Leo is 100% the kind of guy to expect them to get over whatever it is he did, even if it was something really bad. Man has like no moral compass, anything is on the table, even if it's deeply personal. I he'd get bored and keep sending you dumb tiktoks or meme's to get you to talk to him and hang out again. At MOST I think he'd trap you into going out somewhere with him and he'd treat you. Like get you a Starbucks drink or something, but thats it. And if MC won't go out with him, he'll come to them with two new trendy Starbucks drinks and his tablet ready to watch some shitty reality TV and make fun of the cast.

Leo glared down at his phone with a huff, MC hadn't reacted to any of his tiktoks or memes, not even the sad cat ones! It had been a few days since they'd went out. Sho was busy with his own thing so Leo had no one else to bet with. He dramatically sighed and immediately started to look through MC'S social media on his phone. He noticed that they'd like a post on the new drinks at Starbucks and started to formulate a plan. He dragged Sho away from him project and got to work.

MC sat on their bed, relaxing after a long day of classes, waiting to hear from professor Hyde which house they were going to be assigned to next. A knock at the front door echoed throughout the old cathedral, startling them. When MC got up and answered the door, Leo stood there with a cup holder and his signature impish smile,

"Hey MC! You didn't show up so I came here!"

Leo pushed past them and looked around, visible disgust on his face before turning to MC, his smile slapping back onto his face, saying,

"I can't believe you live like this! But whatever! Come one i brought my tablet with the new housewives season and the new spicy dragon fruit drink from Starbucks. Where has the best lighting in this shithole? I need to post about it before we start watching"

Leo handed them the drink, looking around before he found their bedroom, making himself comfortable and moving some of their things around to make a mini photo shoot for the drink. Once he was done, MC had finally found him, sitting on her bed and drinking what he brought. He saw them and gently pat beside him on the bed, saying,

"C'mon! How can you stay mad at a handsome devil like me? Now come here, I NEED to know what happens to Bethenny Frankel!"

[sukirichi]

DUSK ‘TILL DAWN: THE PRINCES.

→ character sheet including the princes’ ages, parents, backstories, and some slight spoilers ahead. reader is referred to as ‘lady yuzuru’ here.

→ content warnings: mentions of self harm, implied murder, suicide, toxic characters, grooming, infidelity.

1st PRINCE – USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, 32

Crown Prince Wakatoshi was granted the title of Crown Prince under the late King’s last will. His mother was rumored to be the Late King’s true love, and his one and only concubine. Unfortunately, she passed away from childbirth, causing the King to spiral into madness and lead to his countless affairs with different women.

The First Prince is said to be a strict man. He is firm in his beliefs, solid in his stance, and the most suitable candidate to be the next King of Inarizaki. He is married to Princess Camilla through a marriage of convenience whom he eventually fell in love with. Together, the couple lives happily in Inarizaki Palace along with their firstborn son, Wakashi.

2nd PRINCE – SAKUSA KIYOOMI, 29

Prince Kiyoomi, also infamously nicknamed “The Forgotten Prince.” Despite being next in line as Crown Prince candidate, the Prince is rarely seen in public. He is said to be distant, quiet, and has terrible social skills. He scowls at any cameras pointed his way, and refuses to be interviewed regardless of whether it was approved by the royal family or not.

He prefers to keep to himself, and absolutely detests physical contact with others. According to Prince Tobio, he’s the hardest to approach out of all his brothers, but Prince Kiyoomi is secretly soft-hearted and loves his brothers very dearly. He had a normal childhood where he was raised by his mother, Kanami, an actress and model from Itachiyama, and his father, the Late King. It was the late King who taught him how to ride horses, speak many languages, and shared his love for nature with his father. However, as the late King moved onto other escapades with his many lovers, Kiyoomi was eventually forgotten. At the age of six years old, he was officially registered a resident of Inarizaki to fulfill his duties as the bridge between the two territories. At age twenty-four, he was married to his first wife, Iris Amari, an Itachiyaman citizen and an Inarizaki scholar. They have been married for five years and have no children together.

The Prince is thought to be uninterested in anything aside from his flowers and farm, but if asked, he would say the only time he ever felt something again was when he danced with the shy debutante he met when he was twenty-one years old. Until now, he regrets not calling upon her sooner.

3rd PRINCE – KITA SHINSUKE, 27

The third prince is the son of the royal family’s lawyer, a former classmate of the late King when he attended a few classes in law. They had Shinsuke after meeting again through a reunion years after graduating law school. Kita’s mother, Kaori, also works as professor and has written several novels about the King’s accomplishments in upholding their Kingdom. Out of all the women the late King has been with, Kaori was the only he held close until his last days as he considered her one of his closest and most trusted friends. The King also highly favored Shinsuke for his intelligence, and sent the young boy into school earlier than his brothers ever did. After the King passed, Shinsuke becomes closer than ever to his mother, and shares the same devotion they have to the throne.

Apart from Crown Prince Wakatoshi, Shinsuke is the only prince on par with his most respect brother. But as rumors have it, Shinsuke is scarier in terms of perfectionism. He is extremely dedicated to his studies and duties that he puts his other brothers to shame, constantly winning popularity ranks as one of the people’s favorites. He is given the title ‘The Golden Boy.’ He is reliable, trustworthy, and honest – his brothers look up to him and always turn to him first when they run into trouble.

He has a secret lover, Airi, who is a maid assigned to his quarters. However, after their relationship has become more obvious to other royal staff, Airi has experienced constant criticism that leads to Shinsuke assigning her to Princess Yuzuru’s care.

4th PRINCE – AKAASHI KEIJI, 27

The Fourth Prince is the real forgotten Prince.

With an unnamed servant for his mother, his birthrights were denied by the Queen. There is no known information on who his mother is, or where she is now, but the late King took pity on his son and eventually allowed him to live with his brothers under the condition he would have the lowest rank, no official titles with duties, and that he is to make his presence scarce. Because of this, Keiji has grown up to be shy and introverted, preferring to keep to himself out of fear his titled brothers would reject him as well. He has grown closer to the royal servants instead in hopes he might one day meet his mother among them, but there have been whispers that the Queen has had his mother banished from the castle before he could walk.

The King died without ever telling Keiji who his real mother was.

In his loneliness, Keiji has found solace in the palace library and developed a passion for writing. He spends many sleepless nights writing and writing until his hands grow tired. He is analytical, observant, and far more concerned of his people’s well-beings than his own. He longs to be given duties so he would not be so useless, but because his ‘title’ is merely a formality, there is not much he can do. He solves this problem by publishing his novels under a different pen name, and uses the money he’s made to donate to those in need.

5th PRINCE – OIKAWA TOORU, 26  

Prince Tooru is the son of one of the big three clans that helped form Inarizaki to what it is now – the Oikawa Clan. However, he was rejected by his clan due to his mother having postpartum depression once he was born, which only grew worse when the King did not care for her during her entire pregnancy. She was meant to marry another noble when she grew infatuated with the King instead, and naively believed he would abandon his throne to be with her. When the King ended up choosing his wife time and time again, his mother grew hateful and made multiple attempts to lose her baby. Once Tooru was born, she dropped him off at the Palace and severed any connections she may have with him. Until now, Tooru has no idea of her whereabouts, and he’s long stopped trying to reach out to his family.

At age eighteen, he married Lady Maiko of the Rai Clan, one of the big three clans, shortly after he graduated high school. Due to their sudden marriage, Princess Maiko stopped studying and never got to graduate. She chose to dedicate herself as his wife instead. According to the records, their marriage was not always unhappy. Tooru spent most of his childhood at the Rai Estate playing with Maiko, who was a year younger than him, and even promised her he would marry her when they grew older as they played house. Tooru did not think too much of the responsibilities of marriage as he saw it to be beneficial – marrying a woman from an influential family with direct connections to the throne would strengthen and secure his position as a Prince, even without the support of his mother’s clan. However, as time passed, Tooru began to realize there were things he could not do anymore because he was married. He felt that he had lost his freedom, and constantly blamed and neglected Princess Maiko for his misery.

When Crown Prince Rintaro married Lady Yuzuru, he felt even more dejected in his marriage. He adored the new Princess and openly showered her with affection, more so to hurt Maiko in the hopes she’d stop loving him. But somewhere in their marriage, the two are bonded with their mutual goal in bringing Princess Yuzuru happiness, causing their friendship to be rekindled once more.

6th PRINCE – SUNA RINTARO, 26

Suna Rintaro is the only child of the Queen and the late King; he is the Crown Prince by his birthright.

The Queen struggled to conceive due to the stress she suffered at the King’s many affairs, so he was born later than his brothers, and according to the Queen, “born a little too late.” As the only true heir to the throne, he was raised in extreme and harsh conditions where he wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone that wasn’t his mother or his governess. He was kept isolated from his brothers because his mother feared the ‘half-bloods’ would taint his ‘purity.’ Because of this, Rintaro doesn’t know how to deal with people. His father was less harsh to him, but he was mostly absent from Rintaro’s life. It made a young Rintaro feel confused – if he was their only son, shouldn’t he be spoiled? He vied for his father’s attention, and craved his mother’s praise.

Because of this, he grew desperate for human connection and latched on to the first friend he ever made, Iris Amari. A part of him felt that Iris was a bad influence as she often convinced him to do things he never liked, but because he didn’t want to lose her, and he wanted to please her more than anything, Rintaro let her do whatever she liked to him. When she kissed him for the first time after years of disappearing, Rintaro thought that’s what falling in love felt like.

Crown Prince Rintaro made it his mission to become King so he could have Iris and Kiyoomi legally separated in the hopes he could make her his concubine. To achieve this, he courted Lady Yuzuru for two years, and eventually married her. However, his marriage turns complicated when he starts doubting his true feelings for both his wife and his lover.

7th PRINCE – MIYA ATSUMU, 24 8th PRINCE – MIYA OSAMU, 24

The Twin Princes are the most popular amongst their brothers due to their good looks and charming personalities. Their mother owns a large hotel chain in Inarizaki and is one of the richest women in the country. She was quite young when she met the King, and despite being warned multiple times to not be fooled by the King’s charm, she happily became his mistress. She wasn’t in love with him, but was very attracted to both his looks and the power it would bring her. When the twins were born, she had lavish celebrations for them and spoiled both the boys, promising that there was nothing they would lack in their life. It didn’t matter that the King barely cared for the boys because she loved them to bits, and until now, she still sponsors her sons in all of their endeavors.

Both the twins are morally grey and care little about people’s feelings.

The seventh Prince, Atsumu, is the more arrogant one of the two. He’s loud, brash, and is notorious for sleeping around with women. Meanwhile, Prince Osamu is known to be more gentlemanly and sweeter with the ladies, albeit being a playboy himself. The twins are competitive with one another, and encourage one another in making bad decisions because they know they will have each other’s back even if the Queen punishes them. However, Osamu is more hesitant because he’s truly afraid of the Queen, while Atsumu is more reckless. The twins are also known for wanting the same things and trying to one up each other. Their biggest fight was due to a girl they both liked – Hiroda Yuki – an actress and model. Yuki was more interested in Osamu, but Atsumu liked her more.

9th PRINCE – KAGEYAMA TOBIO, 20

The youngest prince is loved by everyone. With his kind nature, and gentle smiles, it’s easy to understand why he’s everyone’s favorite. Even when his brothers don’t all get along, they all agree that they love Tobio and actively support in him reaching his dreams to go pro in volleyball. He loves painting, playing volleyball, and is extremely close to Lady Yuzuru. He’s an innocent Prince who wants nothing but for his family to get along, and to find true love for himself someday. He craves the kind of relationship Lady Yuzuru and Prince Suna had before his affair was exposed because he almost lost hope that love didn’t exist when he learned his father cheated multiple times.

The only thing he knows about his mother was that she was a kind and beautiful woman who simply fell for the wrong man. He never met her, but the King often talks about how she’s still the most stunning he’s ever met. He loves it whenever someone brings his mother up until he completely stopped asking about her due to the Queen beating him up when he was a little boy. Prince Tobio has been afraid of her ever since.

The King died not long after Tobio was born.

[bleach-is-yummy]

Okay was it just me or was the wedding between Amaya & Janai done really badly.

Firstly, I just like to say I’m not deaf but over the last couple years I’ve been trying to learn ASL, through college courses and personal research, as I think it’s a really important language for a lot of people to learn. I haven’t been the greatest at it but I’ve been learning more and more steadily as well as learning a lot about the culture through both my deaf professors and some firsthand experiences from other deaf people. 

Having said this watching Amaya and Janai’s wedding this season had me absolutely stunned by how terribly they did my girl Amaya. Don’t get me wrong Ive hardcore shipped both of them since they’ve met but the accessibly of that wedding was just awful. It was so bad I had to go back to Amayas Wikipedia page to make sure I didn’t misunderstand and she was just mute as it would have been impossible for her to have understood anything that was evening said throughout that entire wedding.

No one was signing to her! At first I thought maybe Gren was in her line of sight signing from the background, but then we saw him step out from behind her meaning no one was signing or interpreting for her that entire time! That’s not even to mention that her wife, the person that she is going to swear herself to didn’t even bother to sign her vows meaning that she had to lipread the entire time! I have learned from firsthand accounts that lip reading is an incredibly inconvenient and inaccurate way to have a conversation with people who cannot hear! For God sake, her own interpreter didn’t even sign his speech!! he even had to read out her speech to her wife meaning not only does Janai not speak sign language the primary language her wife uses, but also cannot read it for the most part as well.

Now I probably cannot sign or understand sign that much better than Janai can but then again I am not marrying someone who is deaf! Why did the show runners not have her at least get a rudimentary grasp on the language her wife speaks. If it was an issue with the audience understanding what was being said then why didn’t she just sign along with her speech? I’m am in absolute awe because they usually handled Amaya’s deafness really well but for this wedding it was handled so poorly. She was even facing away from most of the people that were talking making it impossible for her to have gleaned any amount of information from anyone. She had people talking in front of her and she had people talking to her while their mouths were covered or while they were looking down. 

I don’t know if I’m blowing this out of proportion or misunderstanding things, but I feel like this wedding could’ve been done so much better if they made it accessible for both parties involved. To me it didn’t feel romantic. It felt like something they put in because the audience wanted these two to get married. It wasn’t something that I was awing at despite shipping these two for so long I really wanted this wedding to be something great and beautiful but the whole time I was just yelling at the screen because how could this be romantic for Amaya, she probably couldn’t even make out most of the things being said. No steps were taken to make this feel like an accessible wedding and it just ruins that whole scene for me.