#though it has been a few years since I watched the original series...
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focusonkayjay · 9 hours ago
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Wildly Wealthy Koreans (1); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, potential smut
Word Count: 6.6k+
Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.
Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!
Chapter Warnings: nothing major for now, lmk if i should add anything.
A/N: okay so after much thought, I decided to write this fic because Crazy Rich Asians is, without a doubt, my ultimate comfort movie. I literally rewatch it every chance I get because there's just something about the vibes, the story, and the characters that I can never move on from. That’s exactly why I wanted to create my own little version of it, with Jungkook as the main character. let me know your thoughts and tell me if tis is worth continuing. also should i make a taglist for this?
part 1
Jungkook sits in the dimly lit corner of the restaurant, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his water glass. The soft hum of classical music mingles with the low chatter of the people around, but none of it distracts him from the bubbling anticipation inside as he waits for you.
It’s been four months since the two of you had officially started dating, and though you guys had been cautious about defining what you meant to each other, these past months have solidified everything for him. You aren’t just someone he likes... you’re someone who makes his world brighter in ways he never thought possible.
New York has been his home for years now, but it didn’t always feel that way. When he abruptly moved here with his mom during high school, he reluctantly traded the familiar streets of Busan and the ocean breeze he grew up with for the city that never sleeps.
The move was sudden, jarring even, but over time, he adjusted. The city shaped him, sharpening his edges and teaching him resilience. Now, he’s built a life here, chasing his passion for storytelling as a photographer and documentary filmmaker, capturing untold stories that deserve to be heard.
Life was peaceful... steady, even. And then you walked in and turned everything upside down, in a good way.
He met you almost a year ago, purely by chance. He was documenting behind-the-scenes moments at a charity gala, a commission he almost didn’t take, when you appeared, orchestrating the chaos of models, designs, and flashing cameras like the professional powerhouse you are.
You were magnetic, the kind of person who commanded attention without even trying. Jungkook watched from behind his lens, capturing candid moments until one of your colleagues introduced him to you.
“Ah, so you’re the genius behind the lens.” you teased, offering a hand. “I’m Y/N, the one responsible for the clothes you’re immortalizing.”
Your confidence threw him off guard, but what stayed with him was your laugh... so soft and so genuine, the kind that lingers in his mind long after the event ends.
What followed after was a series of serendipitous run-ins—an art exhibit here, a mutual friend’s dinner there. Each meeting peeled back another layer of who you are, until he realized he was utterly captivated.
Now, as he waits for you to arrive tonight, Jungkook can’t help but think of how far the two of you have come. A lot can change in a year, he thinks. His lips tug into a small smile at the thought of your teasing voice, your quick wit, the way you light up every room you enter. You’ve become the best part of his life, and for the first time in years, he feels genuinely happy.
The sound of heels clicking against the polished floor pulls him out of his thoughts. He looks up, and there you are. You wear a soft pink dress that hugs your form perfectly, your hair framing your face in a way that makes his heart skip. When your eyes meet his, you smile instantly, and Jungkook feels his pulse quicken.
“Sorry I’m late.” you say as you reach the table, placing your bag on the chair as you watch him pull out the chair for you. “I got caught up at work.” you say, taking a seat.
“No need to apologize.” he says warmly, going back to his side of the table. “You’re here now and you look... incredible.”
You roll your eyes playfully, though your cheeks betray you with a faint flush. “Says the guy who looks like he just walked out of a GQ spread.” you giggle.
“Only because I knew I’d be sitting across from you.” he shoots back with a grin. You laugh, shaking your head as you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “Flirt.”
The conversation flows as effortlessly as always, a mix of updates about your respective work lives and lighthearted banter. You tell him about the chaos of coordinating last-minute changes for an upcoming fashion week, while he shares stories from his recent project, a documentary highlighting immigrant artists in the city.
But midway through dinner, he notices a shift in your demeanor. Your laughter softens, and you begin fiddling with the edge of your napkin, a subtle sign of nerves he’s come to recognize.
Jungkook leans forward slightly, resting his hand gently over yours. “You okay?” he asks, his tone soft but laced with concern. You glance up at him, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
His brow furrows slightly, but his touch remains steady, reassuring. “I’m all ears.”
You take a deep breath, your gaze flicking between him and the table as you speak. “So, um... in three weeks, my brother is getting married. The wedding’s in Daegu, my hometown and my whole family's planning.. all these... these events leading up to it, and...” You pause, mustering the courage to meet his eyes. “and I’d really like you to come... with me.”
Jungkook blinks, momentarily caught off guard. You’ve rarely spoken about your family during your time together. All he knows is that you have an older brother whose name is Kim Taehyung, and that your work keeps you far from home. You’ve always been reserved when it comes to personal matters, and he never pushed, understanding that some things take time to share.
“You want me to meet your family?” he asks, his voice careful but touched with wonder.
You nod, your fingers curling slightly under his. “I know it’s a big step, but... you’re important to me, Jungkook. I want you to know them and I want them to know you... and i just.... I just want you to be there.”
His heart swells at your words, a warmth spreading through his chest that he hasn’t felt in years. He squeezes your hand gently, a soft smile curving his lips. “Of course I’ll go.” he says, his voice steady and full of certainty. “Thank you for asking me. This means a lot, Y/N.”
You exhale, relief washing over your features as your lips tug into a smile. “You have no idea how nervous I was to bring it up.”
“Well, you don’t have to be nervous about anything when it comes to me.” he says, his tone teasing but sincere. “Though... should I be nervous about meeting your family? Any tips I need to survive?”
You laugh, the tension melting away as his words reassure you. “Just be yourself. They’ll love you... I hope.”
“They’d be crazy not to.” he grins, his confidence laced with a playful charm.
As the conversation moves forward, Jungkook can’t shake the weight of what you’ve just shared. This isn’t just an invitation... it’s a glimpse into the part of your world you’ve kept hidden. And he knows, without a doubt, that he wants to be part of it.
//
The three weeks seem to blur together for Jungkook, filled with excitement, planning, and the growing anticipation of returning to Korea. Now, he’s standing just outside the bustling airport, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, glancing at the crowd for any sign of you. He knows you’ll be here soon with the tickets, and just the thought of seeing you has a smile tugging at his lips.
It’s been years since he last visited Korea, and the idea of going back stirs up a mix of emotions... nostalgia, eagerness, and a tinge of nervousness. But it isn’t just your family he’s excited to meet... he can’t stop thinking about reuniting with Yoongi, an old friend from his university days.
Jungkook remembers how they first met. Yoongi, fresh from Daegu, adapting to the fast pace of New York, with a wit and humor that made their friendship click instantly. They spent countless nights bonding over shared meals and dreams, but after Yoongi finished his studies and returned to Korea, they lost touch. Now, the opportunity to see him again feels like a bonus to this trip.
When Jungkook had mentioned that he'd be visiting Daegu for a short trip to Yoongi during a rare phone call, Yoongi had insisted, “You better visit me for lunch or dinner the second you land, Jeon. I’ll be waiting.” It had been less of an invitation and more of a command and a promise Jungkook fully intends to keep.
His thoughts are interrupted when he spots you approaching with your suitcase. Your face lights up the moment your eyes meet, and Jungkook feels his heart lift as he strides forward to greet you. He pulls you into a hug, planting a soft kiss on your lips, his familiar warmth seeping into you.
“You ready for this?” you ask, your grin contagious. “With you? Always.” he affirms easily, grabbing your suitcase to lighten your load as the two of you head towards security.
After passing through the usual chaos of airport checks, you finally board the plane. Jungkook trails closely behind, his eyes scanning the rows of economy seats, prepared to settle in for the long flight. But you keep walking, breezing past one row after another, heading towards the front of the plane.
“Y/N...” he calls softly, a frown of confusion crossing his features. “I think we passed our seats.” You barely glance back, simply motioning for him to follow with a playful wave of your hand. “Just trust me, Kook.”
Jungkook’s confusion only grows as you step into the business class section. His steps slow as he takes in his surroundings... the stark difference from the cramped seats in economy hits him instantly. Business class looks like another world.
The seats are spacious, arranged in private compartments with high partitions for privacy. The lighting is soft and ambient, with a warm golden glow that feels more like a cozy lounge than an airplane cabin. Flight attendants move quietly through the aisles, offering passengers drinks and handing out fancy pajama sets.
Jungkook’s jaw drops as he watches you casually slide into one of the luxurious seats, making yourself comfortable. He hurries forward, his voice incredulous. “Y/N, this is business class... Our seats aren’t here!”
You look up at him with a calm smile, gesturing to the seat beside yours. “They gave me an upgrade.” you say simply, patting the spot for him to sit. His eyes narrow in confusion as he sets down his bag. “Upgrade? Can we even afford this?” he asks, using his hands to gesture towards the private compartment.
You laugh lightly, already reclining your seat with the touch of a button. “Relax, Kook. My family has some business ties with the airline. It’s just a little perk.” (Nick Young coded girlfriend)
“A little perk?” he repeats, his voice full of disbelief as he finally sits down. He presses a button on the armrest, watching in awe as the seat reclines into a flatbed. “Y/N, this isn’t a perk... this is a dream. Look at this place! It’s like a five-star hotel in the air.”
You grin, watching his childlike amazement as he fiddles with every feature. "I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to go back to economy class now...that feels like a distant nightmare.”
A flight attendant approaches with a tray of pre-departure champagne, offering the glasses with a polite smile. Jungkook accepts one hesitantly, holding it up like it might break. “Champagne? On a plane? This is insane.” he continues.
You can't help but giggle at his cuteness as you casually take a sip from your glass as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
As the plane prepares for takeoff, Jungkook leans back in his seat, still marveling at the luxurious surroundings. He sneaks another glance at you, the contentment on your face making his heart swell. This trip is already shaping up to be unforgettable, and it hasn’t even truly started yet.
//
Jungkook feels the weight of your pout pressed against his chest as you stand in his arms, his hands gently brushing through your hair in a comforting motion. He can’t help but smile softly, though he feels the tiniest tug at his heart seeing you so disappointed.
He knew this lunch with Yoongi was important, and he knew you understood... at least, logically. But seeing the way you looked at him, that little furrow between your brows, made him feel a little guilty. “It’s just lunch, baby.” he says, his voice soothing, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek.
“I promised him, and he never takes no for an answer.” He chuckles softly, but his smile fades when he feels the reluctance in your grip on him.
You knew he had plans with Yoongi the moment you touched down in Daegu. You had known this from the start, had heard about the lunch plan in passing, but that didn’t make the feeling any easier to shake.
The thought of him going off without you, to catch up with an old friend while you drove home alone, kind of made you sad. You were fully aware of the importance of this lunch, but that didn’t stop the tiny selfish part of you from wishing he’d be with you, just for a little while longer.
“I know...” you murmur, your voice betraying the tiny bit of sulk in your tone, but you try to let it go. You weren’t going to hold him back. "Fine." you finally say, pulling back to meet his gaze.
And the way he looks at you affectionately makes you feel like you’ve won some small victory. “But...” you add with a little smile. “I expect you to be at my place at 7. You know my grandma’s having that traditional tea ceremony thing and I promised her I was bringing someone special home.”
His eyes light up at your words, the thought of joining you for something so important and so personal. “Of course.” he replies without hesitation, his voice earnest. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”
You smile softly, knowing he means it. And yet, despite his assurances, you can’t shake the lingering feeling of missing him. Just a little. Before you can dwell on it too much, you hear a voice break through the moment.
“Ms. Kim.”
You turn, blinking a little in surprise as your driver steps forward, his presence bringing a sudden rush of formality to the otherwise intimate moment. “The car is here.” he states matter-of-factly, and you know that this is your cue to part ways.
You sigh softly, reluctantly loosening your hold around Jungkook’s waist, but not without giving him one last lingering look. Your lips curl in a pout, but you try to hide it behind the gentle smile you offer him.
“Okay then
” you start, your voice trailing off as you look at him, uncertainty settling in your chest. “I’ll see you soon?” The question hangs in the air, like a promise and a plea all at once.
Jungkook watches you for a moment, that familiar ache in his chest growing stronger as he sees the hint of vulnerability in your eyes. But then his lips curl upward, soft but sincere. “Of course, baby. I’ll be there. I love you.” His words are steady, and his eyes hold something deeper than just affection... something unwavering.
You nod quickly, feeling a mix of relief and longing. “I love you too.” you whisper back before turning away, following your driver towards the airport's exit.
Jungkook watches you walk away, his heart heavy in his chest, the pang of guilt creeping up again. He promises himself to make it up to you later. Now, he just needed to get through lunch with Yoongi.
But as soon as the sound of your footsteps fades and you disappear from his sight, his phone buzzes in his pocket. The familiar name on the screen catches his attention, and he answers without a second thought. “Hey, Mom.”
Her voice crackles through the line, warm but concerned. “Hello Jungkook-ah, I just wanted to check in. You landed safely?” she asks.
Jungkook listens to his mom’s voice on the other end of the line, the familiar warmth making him smile despite the anxiousness he feels about what’s ahead. He’s about to step into a world that’s so different from New York, where he’s spent most of his adult life. But now, back in Korea, things feel unfamiliar in a way that both excites and intimidates him.
“Yes, Ma... I landed a while ago.” he answers, feeling a small wave of relief hearing her voice. “That’s good, honey... How’s Y/N?” she asks with that gentle concern she always has for the people he cares about.
“She’s good. She just left though, and I’m waiting for Yoongi to come pick me up.” he replies, smiling softly as he instantly thinks of you. “How does it feel to be back in Korea?” he hears his mom question, her tone soft but curious.
He smiles, leaning against the nearest pillar with his luggage beside him as he waits for Yoongi. “So far, so good, but I’m still at the airport, so I can’t say much.” he jokes. His mom lets out a quiet laugh, the sound comforting.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she switches to a more serious tone. “Remember what I told you, Kook... Stay put there. You know how it is in Korea... with the elders and the... the people. It’s very different from here, so please take care with what you say and how you say it.”
It’s a reminder he’s heard before, but hearing it again feels heavier now that he’s here, about to meet your family and step into a culture that’s rooted in tradition and respect, something that’s been passed down for generations.
Jungkook’s smile falters for a moment as he nods, even though she can’t see him. He knows exactly what she means. He’s always been more carefree, more western in his ways of expressing himself, and in Korea, especially when it comes to elders, there’s a deep respect for hierarchy and custom that’s different from what he’s generally used to.
“I know, Ma. I’ll keep everything in mind.” he assures her, his voice more serious now. “You’re not a kid anymore, Kook, but just... be mindful, okay? Don’t let them misunderstand your intentions. I just want you to be careful.” Her voice softens with motherly concern, and Jungkook feels his heart warm.
“I will. I promise.” he replies, knowing that this trip, meeting your family... it’s more important than ever to prove to them that he’s not just another guy in the city.... he’s not just your boyfriend. He wants to show them how serious he is about you and the future you guys could have together.
He glances around at the busy terminal, the buzz of passengers and the distant announcements. It all feels so different from New York. So... foreign. But he’ll make it through. He’s used to adapting. And this, he tells himself, is just the beginning.
“Alright, Kook... you take care, yeah?” she says. Jungkook hums. "I will. Bye, Ma." he replies back and soon, the call ends.
Just as Jungkook tucks his phone back into his pocket, he hears a deafening roar that cuts through the murmur of the airport. The unmistakable sound of an engine revving... loud, aggressive, and powerful, draws his attention immediately.
His head snaps to the right, eyes scanning the street. His gaze locks onto a sleek purple Lamborghini, its engine purring with a force that vibrates the ground beneath him as it races towards him.
Jungkook’s brows furrow, an instinctive suspicion flickering across his face as the car approaches. He’s not sure why, but something feels
 off, or rather, intriguing. The car comes to an abrupt halt right in front of him, the tires squealing as they grip the asphalt. Jungkook freezes, blinking in disbelief.
The tinted window slowly rolls down, and for a moment, everything seems to move in slow motion. When the driver’s face comes into view, Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. “Yoongi?!” he exclaims, his voice tinged with utter shock and disbelief.
Yoongi grins, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ain’t no way...” Jungkook mutters under his breath, still processing the surreal sight of Yoongi sitting behind the wheel of a car that looks like it belongs to someone straight out of a high-stakes action movie. Yoongi chuckles, clearly amused by Jungkook’s reaction.
“What’s good, my man? Meet my baby.” Yoongi says with a sly smirk, his fingers casually tracing the contours of the steering wheel like this car was just an everyday ride for him.
Jungkook’s mouth hangs open in awe. He can’t remember the last time he was this speechless. The purple Lamborghini gleams under the streetlights, its polished surface reflecting the neon glow of the airport. Jungkook’s eyes follow every curve, every sharp angle, as if seeing it in person is somehow more unreal than he could have ever imagined.
Yoongi, clearly unfazed by the wide-eyed look Jungkook is giving him, steps out of the car with an effortless swagger. He’s dressed in an oversized, silk button-up shirt that drapes over his frame in a relaxed way.
The half-sleeves of the shirt billow out just above his elbows, adding a laid-back yet refined touch to his look. Paired with the shirt are matching shorts that reach just below his knees, the material soft and flowy, almost weightless.
Around his neck, a thick silver chain glints in the sunlight, its boldness standing out against the simplicity of his outfit, giving him an air of casual but undeniable wealth.
Without a word, he grabs Jungkook’s luggage from the ground and begins loading it into the trunk of his car.
Jungkook snaps out of his daze and watches him, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. “Get in, dude." Yoongi laughs with a nudge to Jungkook’s shoulder, his tone light, almost playful, as he walks back around to the driver’s side.
Jungkook slides into the plush passenger seat, still feeling like he’s stepped into another world. The interior of the Lamborghini is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. As his eyes roam around, Jungkook can’t help but feel like he’s in a dream.
Every inch of the car screams excess, sophistication, and unspoken wealth. The steering wheel is trimmed in carbon fiber, the gearshift feels solid in Yoongi’s hand, and everything seems perfectly engineered, like it was crafted for the few who could afford such a ride.
Yoongi starts the engine with a smooth hum, and Jungkook jerks his head towards him, still shocked. "You never told me you had a Lamborghini." he says, his voice betraying his disbelief.
Yoongi just laughs, his eyes glancing briefly at Jungkook before focusing back on the road. "Well, that's because I didn’t have this back in university." he shrugs nonchalantly, a casual smirk playing on his lips. The car pulls smoothly out of the airport, its engine growling like a beast waking up.
Jungkook stares at him, still processing everything. "But wow, dude? You hit the lottery or something? This car is insane." he breathes out. Yoongi chuckles again but doesn’t answer, as if the question doesn’t deserve a response.
The city of Daegu blurs by outside the tinted windows, the sun reflecting off the glass as they drive deeper into the heart of the city. Jungkook can feel the rhythm of the drive, the perfect balance between speed and luxury, as the Lamborghini effortlessly weaves through traffic, its engine purring in a low, contented hum.
The sound of the tires on the road and the occasional rumble of the car’s exhaust fill the silence between them as they talk. Their conversation drifts to more casual topics... catching up on life after university, their mutual friends, and everything in between. Jungkook listens intently, but something about the ride and everything else, still has him on edge.
Then, suddenly, the city streets begin to change. The hustle and bustle of downtown Daegu fades away, replaced by quiet, tree-lined roads and grand, gated estates. Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion. The mansions are larger than anything he’s ever seen.
Multi-story buildings with sprawling lawns, perfectly manicured gardens, and tall gates that exude old money. The kind of money that felt untouchable, like a world he’d never thought he’d be a part of.
Yoongi slows the car as they approach a massive set of gates, gleaming with metal and ornate designs. They pause for a moment, and Jungkook watches as the gates swing open effortlessly, granting them access to enter.
Jungkook’s eyes widen even more as they drive in, the long, curved driveway leading them deeper into the estate. The mansion that comes into view is nothing short of breathtaking. It’s grand and set against the backdrop of lush trees, with a modern yet classic architectural style.
The house gleams under the afternoon sunlight, its windows large and open, letting the soft glow of interior lights spill out into the day. As they pass by, Jungkook can’t help but notice the impressive collection of cars parked near the house, each one more expensive than the last.
There’s a black Rolls-Royce Phantom, a gleaming Ferrari 488, a silver Porsche 911 Turbo, and a sleek Aston Martin DB11, all parked in perfect alignment, as if they belong to the same elite circle. The cars shine brightly in the afternoon sun, their polished surfaces reflecting the elegance of the estate.
Jungkook’s mouth hangs open, his mind racing to catch up with the reality unfolding around him. He’s never seen anything like this in his life. "What is this
 What is this place?" he breathes out, his voice almost reverent, like he’s stumbled into a world that doesn’t seem real.
Yoongi’s smirk is still there, a knowing glint in his eyes as he pulls the car to a stop, right in front of the grand entrance of the beautiful mansion. He looks over at Jungkook, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. "Welcome to my crib, Kook." he says.
Jungkook's mouth open, words just stuck in the middle of his throat. His mind is still processing everything, the scene outside seeming like a surreal dream. This is all too much to take in.
Yoongi was RICH rich and he didn't have a single clue about it. As they step out of the car, Jungkook notices a man approaching swiftly towards them and by the looks of his attire, it's clear that he's a guard.
Without missing a beat, Yoongi tosses his car keys at him, and the man catches them with practiced ease. "He'll grab your luggage in a bit." Yoongi says casually, already heading towards the mansion's entrance. Jungkook, still processing whatever the hell this is, follows him like a lost child, unable to do anything but take in the overwhelming sight that surrounds him.
The moment they step inside the house, Jungkook's eyes widen, but before he can even begin to appreciate the stunningly opulent interiors like marble floors or the high ceilings or the glistening chandeliers, a shrill voice cuts through the air. "Yoon, you're hereeee!"
Jungkook’s brow furrows as he watches a woman, probably in her 50s, stand right in front of them. She’s dressed in a chic, over-the-top outfit... a silk floral blouse with exaggerated puffed sleeves, tailored trousers, and a lavish pearl necklace that gleams with the faintest hint of arrogance.
Her perfectly styled hair is in a tight updo, and in her arms, she cradles a fluffy kitten, which she’s stroking affectionately, completely oblivious to Jungkook's stunned expression.
Yoongi barely reacts, his face giving away nothing as he responds, "Yes, mom." with a tone that suggests this is nothing out of the ordinary. Without hesitation, he gestures towards Jungkook, who’s still very much amused. “This is Jungkook, a friend from New York.” he introduces calmly.
She steps closer to Jungkook, her eyes widening as she takes in his appearance. "Such a handsome face." she says with a bright smile, fluttering her lashes dramatically. Jungkook feels his ears turn red, but tries to mask it with a polite smile.
"Come, come, why are you still standing by the door?" she continues in a sing-song voice, already turning towards the grand dining hall. "Lunch is just about to be served."
Without waiting for a response, she leads them through the sprawling corridor, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor. Jungkook follows, still processing the luxury surrounding him.
As they enter the enormous dining room, the sheer size of the table takes his breath away. It looks like something straight out of a royal palace, with intricately carved wood and sparkling silverware laid out meticulously. Seated around the table are five people, two men, a woman, and two little girls. The air feels heavy with formality and expectation.
Yoongi, noticing Jungkook's distracted gaze, gestures towards each person with casual confidence. "That's my dad." he says, pointing to the middle-aged man sitting at the center of the table who gives Jungkook a bright smile, as he nods acknowledging his presence.
"That's my brother, Geumjae." Yoongi continues, nodding towards the younger man seated to the left. Geumjae has the same sharp features as Yoongi, and he cheerfully waves at Jungkook. "Yooo." he says.
Next, Yoongi points at a woman sitting beside him. "That's his wife, Chaeri." he adds, the warmth in his voice making it clear they have a close bond. "And those are his daughters, Minji and Yuna," he finishes, gesturing to the two little girls sitting next to each other as they giggle shyly to themselves.
Jungkook nods politely at everyone, his nerves creeping in as he takes in the situation. Yoongi's family seems very welcoming, but he's still extremely nervous. He’s not used to this kind of environment, and it shows, but he quickly remembers his manners. He straightens up and gives a right-angled bow, a gesture of respect that his mother taught him for situations like this.
"Hello, I’m Jungkook." he says, his voice steady but laced with a slight hint of uncertainty. He smiles warmly at them, hoping his attempt at a formal greeting isn’t too awkward.
Jungkook feels a shift in the atmosphere as Yoongi's father lets out a hearty laugh. "Yahh, no need to be so formal." he chuckles, waving a hand dismissively.
"Come, take a seat before the food gets cold." His voice is warm and inviting, making Jungkook relax a little. Geumjae, his brother, nods in agreement. Jungkook looks at Yoongi, unsure, but Yoongi simply gives him a small shrug and gestures for him to sit.
They both take their seats, followed by Yoongi’s mother, who settles herself gracefully at the table. Jungkook glances around, noticing the opulence of the setting... the gleaming china plates, the glistening silver cutlery, the rich aroma of the food filling the air. He feels a bit out of place but tries to steady himself, taking in the high-end cuisine laid out before him.
Once everyone is served, Jungkook’s mind races for a moment as he looks at the elaborate dishes in front of him. He’s unsure where to begin, not used to this kind of extravagant meal. It’s all so foreign to him, but before he can pick up his chopsticks, Yoongi’s father breaks the silence.
"So, what brings you here, Jungkook?" he asks, his deep voice cutting through the air with curiosity. Jungkook swallows his nerves before answering.
"Oh, I’m... I’m here with my girlfriend for her brother’s wedding," he replies politely, hoping his words don’t come out too awkwardly.
"Wedding, huh?" Yoongi chimes in from beside him, raising an eyebrow. Jungkook simply nods in acknowledgment, hoping the conversation will shift.
"So this is your girlfriend’s hometown?" Geumjae asks, his voice calm but probing.
"Yes." Jungkook confirms with a small smile, relieved to stick with the easy part of the conversation. "But damn, dude, when did you get a girlfriend? The last time I remembered, you were afraid to even approach girls in university." Yoongi teases, a smirk on his lips.
Jungkook freezes for a moment, feeling a flush of discomfort rise in his chest. The comment feels casual, but the atmosphere around him is so formal that it catches him off guard. He glances around the table, noticing that everyone is relaxed and waiting for him to answer, as if this were a normal part of their dinner conversation. He takes a breath and tries to steady himself.
"Well... I wasn’t really afraid to approach them." he says, carefully choosing his words. "I just had other things to focus on." He offers a half smile, hoping to deflect the attention.
Yoongi chuckles, clearly amused, but doesn’t push any further. "What did you say her name was again?" he asks, his tone light.
"Oh... it’s Y/n," Jungkook replies, a smile creeping onto his face as he thinks about you. Just saying your name makes him feel warm inside, and he can’t help but let a soft grin escape.
"Y/n?" Yoongi’s mother repeats, her brows furrowing slightly, as though the name is familiar but somehow surprising. Jungkook tilts his head, not fully understanding the change in her tone.
He nods, confirming with a small smile. "Yes, Kim Y/n. That’s her name."
The sudden shift in the room is palpable. Yoongi’s mother’s eyes widen, and her voice grows louder, almost demanding. "You mean... Kim Y/n?" she repeats, her tone now sharp, causing everyone at the table to freeze. The clinking of silverware stops as if time itself has paused.
Jungkook blinks in confusion. He can feel the weight of their collective gaze on him, a tension that wasn’t there before. "Yes, Kim Y/n. That’s her name." he says, his voice firmer this time, trying to keep his composure. He doesn’t understand why your name is causing such a stir, but he can sense something is off.
"Dude... the Y/n you’re dating is... Kim Y/n?" Yoongi’s voice is incredulous, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He leans back in his chair, almost scoffing in disbelief.
Jungkook’s confusion deepens. He looks at Yoongi, eyebrows furrowed. "Uh... yeah? You know her or something?" he asks, still trying to piece together the odd shift in the conversation.
Geumjae chuckles, clearly intrigued. "Who doesn't?" he replies. Jungkook furrows his brows, still lost. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asks, his voice laced with perplexity.
Before anyone can respond, Yoongi’s mother’s face lights up with a sudden realization. "Wait, wait, wait, so the wedding you're here for... it's... it's Taehyung's, isn’t it? It’s Kim Taehyung’s wedding!" She beams, her expression a mix of surprise and excitement, as if the revelation is the most obvious thing in the world.
Jungkook’s mind races. He’s still trying to connect the dots, but the sheer shock on Yoongi’s mother’s face throws him off balance and he wonders how she knows that information. "How... How do you know that?" he asks, still trying to process everything.
Before anyone can answer, Yoongi shifts in his seat, leaning slightly towards Jungkook, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Dude... do you have any idea.... who your girlfriend is?" Yoongi asks, the question hanging in the air like a bombshell.
Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes, not understanding the gravity of the situation. His mind struggles to keep up, but he can't seem to make sense of the turn this conversation has taken. "What?" he asks, still confused. "Why... why are you asking me that?"
Yoongi leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as if he’s just realized something monumental. "Dude... do you know who 'The Kims' are?? You're dating someone from 'The Kims'. That is literally insane." he states, his voice filled with disbelief.
He looks at Jungkook, half-amused, half-shocked, but when he still notices the utter confusion on his friend's face, his expression softens slightly. Yoongi leans in and places both hands on Jungkook's shoulders, trying to help him process the information.
"Dude, 'The Kims' are one of the most influential families in all of Daegu. Hell, in all of Korea." Yoongi’s voice is filled with a mixture of awe as he continues.
"They own so many companies, it’s insane. From massive real estate ventures, luxury hotels, tech firms, and even a few major pharmaceutical companies, they’re basically untouchable. Every major industry you can think of, 'The Kims' have their fingers in it." He leans back again, his hands still on Jungkook's shoulders, clearly enjoying his friend's stunned reaction.
"And Y/n? She’s a part of that family. I don’t even think you understand how big of a deal that is."
Jungkook’s mind is spinning. He sits there, his thoughts racing, but the words don't seem to connect. All he can do is stare at Yoongi, trying to make sense of everything that’s being said.
His head is still reeling from the idea that the woman he’s been seeing... someone he’s grown to care for so deeply... belongs to such a powerful family. He had never imagined that you, with your down-to-earth nature, would be connected to such wealth and influence.
Yoongi, noticing Jungkook’s silence, smirks before continuing, clearly reveling in the shock he’s causing. "If you were shocked just looking at the estate I live in, wait until you see the kind of place Y/n lives in."
His voice lowers slightly, his tone growing more serious, almost as if he’s sharing a secret. "Her family’s mansion? It’s like something out of a movie. It’s not like any place you’ve ever seen before. We're talking private security, a sprawling garden, a real private estate. It's on a whole other level."
Jungkook feels his stomach tighten as he tries to digest what Yoongi’s saying. He can’t even fathom how he didn’t know this before, how he had no clue that something about your life was so different from anything he had known.
The thought of you being part of this world, a world so far removed from his own, leaves him just sitting there, not knowing what to do with this newfound information.
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bluesidez · 8 months ago
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The Love Lab presents:
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Boyfriend is to Husband
pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader
summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? đŸ€”
content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.
credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)
a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment â˜đŸŸđŸ˜Œ. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this

word count: 2.2k
I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❀ Plus, it sounds cute!
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You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment. 
After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together. 
Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.
After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines. 
To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly. 
First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point. 
Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.
She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”
“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous. 
You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment. 
You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance. 
“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was. 
The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of. 
“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did. 
Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired. 
You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long. 
After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top. 
There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers. 
You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response. 
“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse. 
Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple. 
They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend. 
From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”
Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband. 
You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you. 
Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk. 
“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back. 
“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.” 
“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”
Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”
You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record. 
Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going. 
“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”
“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”
Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”
He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window. 
You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt. 
Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere. 
You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold. 
“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot. 
You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present. 
“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest. 
Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces. 
You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you. 
“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful. 
You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads. 
“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.” 
You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”
Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic. 
“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”
His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco. 
“Husband.”
Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours. 
His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera. 
“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk. 
He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking. 
“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”
He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat. 
Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face. 
“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours. 
Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”
“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”
He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”
“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap. 
“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”
You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”
“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”
“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”
“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”
You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”
“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”
“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec. 
Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”
He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth. 
He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap. 
Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump. 
“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face. 
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The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way. 
He also never lets the husband thing go. 
As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”
As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”
As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”
As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”
As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”
This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament. 
“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”
“Does he have a brother
.asking for a friend”
“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”
“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”
“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”
“So when’s the wedding? đŸ€šâ€
“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”
“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”
“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”
“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”
“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”
Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine. 
You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.
“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’
“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”
You looked at him with stars in your eyes.
“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”
“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”
You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.
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Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! âŁïżœïżœ
Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.
I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!
- Blue ♡
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penkura · 4 months ago
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Connected to this scenario request, here's a little part two! I might be making this into a small series, idk yet!
Law’s office door is rarely ever wide open. Everyone knows how it works, if the door is cracked just a bit he's welcoming anyone who wants to come in so long as they knock first. If it’s closed completely, you better keep walking, he doesn’t want to see or speak to anyone at that moment thank you very much. It hadn’t changed at all with the two, small additions to the crew in the form of Noa and Luna, though Law is less likely to get onto either of the children if they simply barge right in. They’re just kids, they don’t know all the rules of the ship yet, it’s only been about three weeks at this point since you brought them on accidentally.
It hasn’t been bad at all to have them around, they haven’t interrupted his work so Law is fine with the two kids staying aboard for the foreseeable future. Not like you, Bepo, or Ikkaku are going to let them go any time soon anyway. He has to admit he doesn’t mind how lively it’s become with them around. Despite being your responsibility, everyone has been helpful in getting the five-year-old and nearly two-year-old settled, even helping at night when Luna becomes fussy or Noa has a nightmare.
Law doesn’t realize how much he actually enjoys having them aboard until one day when the Polar Tang makes it’s way into much colder waters, he’s first one up as always and has his coat on quickly, stopping long enough in your shared bedroom to throw an extra blanket over you and the two children asleep in your bed, you’ve got to stay warm too. For once he’s glad this office is so close to his room, less of a walk in the chilly hallway though he stops Clione, who is just coming off night watch, to turn up the heat so no one complains they’re freezing to death. He’s barely done any work when he hears his office door open, expecting a ‘good morning captain’ from whoever it was, but he never hears anything, instead being slightly startled when something grabs onto his leg and starts burying it’s face in his coat.
“
good morning, Luna-ya.”
The toddler looks up at Law, a sleepy grin on her little face which makes him smile softly at her. She’s very good at slipping into his office and nearly giving him a heart attack, since she doesn’t talk yet she’s quiet enough to sneak into various places. Her favorite place to slip into being his office because she just adores Law, he doesn’t get why but won’t argue it.
It really makes him think of Lami when she smiles at him.
“Uh! Uhh!!” Luna lifts her chubby arms up and grabs at Law, making him nod as he sets down the book he was holding. “Uh!!”
“I know, I know. You want up.”
She’s so small and light, Law has zero problems lifting her up, Luna gives a little squeal of delight before she hugs him around the neck. Law has rarely thought about you two having kids, but has constantly pushed it away because he’s just not sure about it. Having Noa and Luna around has been more than enough right now, they’re helping him see if you might be able to handle having kids of your own, but for now, this is fine.
Once Luna catches sight of the book he’s been reading, her eyes light up and she starts to point at the pictures of the next island you’ll be docking at.
“That’s where we’re going next. You think it’s pretty?”
“Ooo
”
Luna’s little ooo’s and aah’s at the pictures makes Law smile while he flips through the book for her. He’s watched you read through picture books with her and Noa, Luna loved to stop you and stare at the pictures, the colors make her happy and she has nearly torn a page out multiple times, but you’ve been able to stop her. Law hasn’t told you about the few times she’s slipped into his office and he’s stopped everything to read her a book she’s brought to him, only because of his original insistence about not having them aboard. He still doesn’t think it’s the safest place for them, but it has to be safer than where they were living at that point.
Luna keeps making little sounds and grabbing at the pages of the book, especially when she sees the flowers, Law tries to explain to her what each one is but she’s not really interested in that. She just likes looking at the pictures and seeing the pretty colors.
“This is a park there, it’s nothing but flowers,” Law points at a picture while Luna ‘aah’s at all the flowers on the page, “We can take you and your brother there. You can see all the flowers in person.”
While she doesn’t respond with a word, Luna nods a little before yawning and rubbing her eyes, laying her head on Law’s chest. It’s way too early for her to be awake, he realizes, as she sticks her thumb in her mouth while he adjusts so her head is against his shoulder. Closing the book, Law is quiet while he takes Luna over to the couch in his office, laying across it and covering her with a small blanket he has.
“You go back to sleep, all right? When [Y/N]-ya gets up, she’ll come get you for breakfast.”
She’s asleep so quickly he doesn’t notice at first, not until she starts drooling on his coat. Ah well, it’ll wash later, for now he’ll let her stay comfortable and safe, even when he dozes off on his own.
You do find them a little while later, Noa by your side and feeling relieved when you find where Luna had snuck off to. You’re glad Law has come to accept having Noa and Luna on board, it’s like you two have your own little family now and all the help in the world with the rest of the crew.
This is more than you could’ve ever asked for.
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desideriumwriter · 4 months ago
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Anyone But You | Chapter 9
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Chapter Summary: The first tournament task goes down, reader has an annoying partner for the Yule Ball Dance practice, and ends up with a ruined dress.
Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader
Category - enemies to lovers + hurt/comfort
Content Warnings - cursing,
Word Count - 4.0k
Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navi
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The cold November air nipped at your face, it felt like you’d been standing out here for ages. You’ve lost count at the amount of times you heard someone say the first task of the tournament could start any moment now.
You had no idea who’d be going first, what dragon they’d be fighting, or what type of dragons there were, but you were horrified.
The familiar shouting of those two annoying twins you hated interrupted your thoughts, now you really regretted allowing yourself to be accidentally separated from Katie and Angelina.
“Gonna place your bets before it starts?” Fred hopped down next to you.
“See if Mr.Diggory will be able to outsmart the dragon?” George added, holding open a suit case, the names of each selected scribbled across the top, the bottom part was covered by a good amount of knuts, sickles, even some galleons.
“Or outcharm?” Fred looked at his brother as they both snickered. You let a heavy breath out through your nose.
“If I give you a sickle will you two leave me be?” You stood up from your leaned position on the wooden rails.
“Probably not-” George shrugged.
“We’ve already gone around the entire pitch now-”
“But you could still try and see!” George pretended to close the suitcase then reopen it, wiggling his brows. You glared at him and shut it.
“Worth a try.” He mumbled, snapping the latches shut.
You turned your attention back to the field, waiting for someone to walk out, for something to happen. The air was especially chilly today and you could feel your nose start to run, making you sniffle a bit. Unwillingly getting the attention of Fred.
“Those earmuffs can’t be doing much for you.” He nudged.
“They’re doing enough.” Which was a lie, they were doing so much less than enough. You’ve had those things since your first year and they were absolutely past their prime, they were barely blocking the cold from your ears.
“We both know that's not true, how ‘bout we swap?” He grinned as he pointed to his green and white beanie, you shook your head and grimaced in response. As always, Fred would not be taking no as an answer.
You tried to protest as he took off your earmuffs, hanging them around his neck and then taking off his beanie, shoving it onto your head and tugging it down until it went past your eyes.
Originally you were going to rip the beanie off, steal your earmuffs back, and maybe give Fred a harsh shove. But once you shifted the hat to where it wasn’t blinding you, the new warmth spreading around your head and across your cheeks was so much better. So comfortable.
“Nice, eh?” Fred smirked at you, you shrugged off his words, quickly turning your eyes back to the field as the stadium began to roar. A knot formed in your stomach once you saw the yellow and gold uniform, Cedric was first.
A silvery blue scaled dragon came out next. It was chained, but looked as if it still had enough room to move a good amount around the field. Its screeching roar made the knot feel tighter.
Hermione, who was just a row in front of you yelled something about it being a Swedish Short-Snout and flames being able to turn “your bones into ashes in seconds.” God, you felt terrified.
What if something happens? What if the chain breaks? What if Cedric gets truly hurt?
The creature whipped its tail just a few feet in front of Cedric. You gasped as the rest of the stadium did.
Cedric was able to get the golden egg in fifteen minutes, though it felt like an hour. You spent most of his turn with your hands over your face, peeking through your fingers.
Watching closely as he transfigured a rock into a dog to distract the dragon and began to run towards the egg. A yelp emerged from your throat once the dragon opened its mouth, turning its head towards Cedric letting blue flames blast out towards him, who was now jumping for cover behind a boulder.
You could see him sit up, back against the rock and hand hovering over the side of his face, which was now badly burnt.
“Well done dragon!” Fred cheered and clapped. You looked at him with a face of utter shock and disbelief.
“What is wrong with you? That thing’s gonna kill him!” You shoved him, your throat hurt from screaming.
“Oh he’ll be fine, he’s got a thick head.” Fred shrugged, continuing to cheer for the dragon.
Cedric successfully got the golden egg, then was shipped off to Madam Pompfrey for his face. You weren’t able to leave until the first task was officially over for everyone. Yet, you were already on the move to get out as soon as Dumbledore announced everyone could go. You left the pitch, immediately making your way towards the Hospital Wing.
Somehow you were able to have Madam Pompfrey let you see him this soon, she was already ushering a group of hufflepuff boys out when you were approaching the wing.
She let you go in when you promised her three minutes.
Cedric was laying flat on his back when you walked up, The one side of his face was covered in a slimy thick orange paste, you were still able to see some of the nasty marks.
“Charming right?” His voice was sarcastic as he noticed your grossed out staring, “It’s for my burns.” He frowned.
“Yeah, you look amazing.” You scoffed out a laugh, sitting down in the open chair next to his bed, “Do you know how long you’ll be here for?”
“A few days, hopefully.” You watched as his brows knit together as his eyes darted to your head, then to your face, then to your head again. “Whose hat is that?” He said blankly, eyes narrowed.
Your eyes went wide when you realized. Merlin, you didn’t even notice you still had Fred’s beanie on.
“Nobodys, it’s mine.” You stammered out, ripping the hat off and holding it tightly in your lap. Cedric stared some more at it then smirked, he could clearly see the F.W. knitted into the side of it.
“Unbelievable.” He shook his head, still smirking.
“So what's the egg do?” You ignored his silent speculation.
“I can’t believe it.” He chuckled, continuing on.
“Shut up, it was just a small favor.” You smacked his arm with the hat, “What does the egg do, Ced?” You leaned back in your seat.
“It wails. Like an ear-shattering shriek if you open it.” He said flatly and you scrunched up your face at the disappointing thought of it.
“All that struggle just for a screaming egg?” You let out a breathy chuckle, Cedric didn’t respond.
You saw his head lift up slightly and eyes glance to the entrance doors, they lit up. Looking behind you to see Cho standing there, a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in her hands and a nervous smile on her face.
“I’ll let you two have some time alone.” You looked at him in amusement, standing up and nudging his foot before leaving. You gave Cho a sweet knowing smile as you passed by her, she smiled back and nodded.
Harry was opening the golden egg by the time you entered the common room, now you knew exactly what the shrieking Cedric was talking about sounded like.
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Katie and you walked into McGonagall's class confused, the floor had been cleared of all desks and chairs, except one in the corner that had an old dusty phonograph sitting on top of it, Flich standing by it.
“What do you think this is for?” Katie giggled to you as McGonagall directed the girls and boys to separate sides of the room.
“How much do you want to bet that she’s gonna make us dance?” You giggled back.
“If she does, I know who you should pick.” Katie smirked as she nodded her head to where the twins were standing. You were able to let out a sound of disgust before McGonagall began to talk.
“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since it’s inception. On Christmas Eve we and our guests we'll gather in the great hall for a night of well mannered frivolity! As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is, first and foremost
a dance.” The room erupted into gasps and silent yet excited whispers.
Katie looked at you with a lit up eyes. You gave her your best faux grin, all you felt was dread. A dance meant getting a date to go with. You weren’t very close with any of the boys in your house, Cedric would definitely use this as his chance to ask out Cho, and you wouldn’t even dare to think about asking either of the twins. Not even as a last resort.
“Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers longing to burst forth and take flight!” McGonagall turned to the girls side of the room, going on with her lecture. After a crude comment from Ron and an awkward yet humorous dance tutorial including him and McGonagall, you were instructed to find a partner to practice with.
“Everybody come together! Boys on your feet!” Of course Katie made a beeline towards George while you looked around the room. You tried your best to find a boy to dance with before they all got claimed by another girl.
There seemed to be no luck, everyone was already standing or making a way to their partners. Oh God, you were terrified this would mean you’d have to dance with Flich. You turned without looking and bumped into someone.
“Need a partner?” That someone being Fred, grinning with his hands behind his back. No luck.
Before you decided whether to reject him or not, you looked around the room one more time, looking at Filch then back at Fred who held out his hand for you. Fuck it.
You took his hand hesitantly and got in position as the music started. Fred had that same stupid smile on his face, the one that always looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter, the one he always had on when he knew he was pissing you off, when he knew you were annoyed.
“Why do you find me being miserable so amusing?” You scowled at him as you both shifted around.
“I reckon you look a bit cute when you’re frustrated.” Fred shrugged. Your eyes went wide and your feet jerked, making your movements stutter at his response.
“What?” You’d lost your train of thought, any snarky responses were gone.
“I’m being honest.” He hummed, “Now come on, let that secret slumbering swan take flight!” He encouraged, beginning to count along with the steps.
After what felt like ages of dancing around the room in circles and “accidentally” stepping on each other's feet, you exited that room as quickly as you could.
The next class was already coming down the corridor by the time you burst out the doors, you stared at the ground as you walked, mind plagued with Freds comment.
Your name being called pulled you out of your thoughts, you looked up to see a concerned Cedric walking up to you.
“You look
mortified, what’s happened now?” He lowered his chin, trying to make eye contact with you.
“I just had to dance with Fred, that was bad enough but then he
nevermind.” You chose to cut off your rant, if you told Cedric what Fred said, you’d never hear the end of it. “Anyways, we have a dance coming up on Christmas. You better ask out Cho while you can. I-I can’t talk right now, I’ve got to get to herbology.” You spoke quickly, not letting Cedric even have a second to respond before you were already on your way.
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It’s been over a month since the Yule Ball has been announced. It's happening tomorrow, your dress your mum said she sent was supposed to be here by today, and you still haven't gotten a date to it. It felt as if every single person around you had paired up with someone. Even the bloody twins had scored dates with Angelina and Katie.
“And you said yes?” You gawked at Angelina as you entered the Great Hall for breakfast.
“Of course I did!” Angelina scoffed playfully.
“He threw a paper ball at you! What kind of crummy way is that?”
“It was Snape's class! We couldn’t talk, I think he was just trying to give an example to his brother too.” She shrugged.
“Great example that is.” You huffed as you three approached the table and sat down. “Still can’t believe you both agreed to go out with them.”
“They really aren't all that terrible! Sure, they’ve had some bad pranks, but they’re not evil. You just hate them.” Katie shook her head at you.
“So maybe they’re not as bad as I seek them out to be, whatever, that still doesn’t change the fact that they’re annoying. Or that you both have dates and I don’t.” You muttered out the last sentence, resting your chin on your hand.
Speaking of the twins, you hadn’t seen them all morning. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sleep in on weekends, but usually they’d be wandering around in the Great Hall or somewhere near by now. You were quickly pulled out of your self mulling when Colin, a first year, nervously tapped you on the shoulder while holding out a large box.
“Parcel for Ms.Y/L/N?” He handed it to you anxiously, you smiled and thanked him before he ran off. You felt your own face light up as soon as you saw that the package was from your mum.
“What’s that?” Katie asked, watching you stand up and excitedly tear off the wrapping paper.
“My dress for the ball!” You grinned as both girls gave you an “ooooo!” in response.
“About bloody time! I was starting to get nervous that you’d have to show up in your robes.” Angelina chuckled.
“Right?” You nodded. “I just hope it’s the right one I asked my mom to grab.” You thought out loud, and it was.
Angelina and Katie both shot up as you gasped at the sight of the dress. All three of you stared at it in awe as you carefully pulled it out of the box. God, it looked better than from when you last tried it on after you saw it sitting in your mum's closet.
It was the most beautiful shade of a pale blue you’ve ever seen, delicate yet elegant embroidered into the fabric, and a flowy skirt.
“Merlin, that’s gorgeous.” Angelina commented as you held the dress up your body. “You’ve got to try it on.”
“Yeah!” Katie agreed as she stood up. “We’ve got to see what it looks like on you!” You just waved them off.
“You two can wait until tomorrow night.” They both let out groans of protest.
“Shove off, you got to see us in our gowns!” Angelina rolled her eyes playfully.
“Yours both arrived early!”
“So? It’s only fair we get to see your late arrived one too!” Katie tugged you by the arm, beginning to try and drag you out the Great Hall. “Plus you’ve got to make sure it fits! If it doesn’t, I know some tricks.” You gave in, holding your dress up carefully and making your way towards the stairs.
The three of you grinned and giggled like you were twelve as you moved quickly up the changing stairs, it became a race of who could get to your dorms faster, and you were winning.
As you got closer to Gryfinndor tower, you felt less like an anxious bundle of nerves, forgetting about the stress of not having a date, only focused on wanting to put on that beautiful gown.
As you made your way to the Fat Ladys portrait, you ignored the giggles coming from behind the door, you thought nothing of them, it was probably girls talking about the ball and their dates. It’s been most of what you heard these past few weeks.
Angelina and Katie jogged up behind you as you showed off your dress to the woman in the portrait, earning a compliment and saying the password to be let in.
The three of you were merely entering the common room when you were met with two grinning freckled faces and some sort of liquid being thrown at you.
The twins stood across from you, holding now empty bottles. There were no longer smiles on their faces or yours. Only horrified expressions.
The room was quiet. The only noise left being a gasp leaving your lips as you looked down at your ruined gown and the sound of the droplets of ink falling from your now soaked dress hitting the common room floor.
Whatever potion/sludge/ink- Whatever disgusting watery liquid they’d thrown from the bottles had splashed all over your dress, some of it hit Angelina and Katie behind you, and your skin. But those were the least of your worries, the pale color was stained with streaks and blots of hideous orange ink.
Tears were already brimming in your eyes as the twins both began to babble apologies at the same time, their voices overlapping each other, eventually going back and forth.
“We thought you were Ron! We were trying to prank Ron!” Fred sputtered out.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen to you, this was for Ron!” George added.
“We’re so sorry y/n, we really didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“A prank?” Your voice was already wavering. “You call this a prank?” You cried out, shaking the stained fabric at them.
“Listen, we can clean it up! We’ve got-” Fred tried to explain. Angry tears began to fall from your eyes before you stopped him.
“Piss off! The Yule Ball is tomorrow night! How could you get all of that out in a day?” You shouted as you threw the dress at the two boys, not caring about it anymore now that it was all messed up. “Actually, I don’t care, it doesn’t matter, you’ve ruined everything! Are you happy?” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the common room, letting out an embarrassing sob while going to the nearest bathroom on the floor.
You could hear the girls begin to tell them off.
“What is wrong with you!” Katie shrieked at them.
“We never thought it’d be you three walking in! It was a prank meant for Ron!” One of the twins defended.
“It was a shitty one at that!” Angelina barked.
“We never meant to hurt anyone with it!”
“Yeah? Well now you’ve made her cry!” Angelina continued on, while you felt more embarrassed than ever.
You’ve now failed at the one thing you thought you’d never do, you promised yourself you’d never do: Cry in front of Fred and George. Let them see you vulnerable.
You couldn’t believe how you were just beginning to tolerate the twins. Just starting to believe that maybe they weren’t all that bad.
It wasn’t long after you hid in one of the stalls when you heard Angelina and Katie's sympathetic calls for you. Soon you saw the two pairs of feet outside the stall door.
“We know you’re in there. It’s just us. You can come out.” Angelina's voice was gentle, holding the same tone as if she was talking to a scared puppy.
You wanted to respond, you tried to speak but all that came out was a pathetic cry. The disappointed breaths from both of the girls didn’t go unnoticed, you just knew they were frowning at each other pitfully.
“I look like a fool.” You whispered out, voice hoarse.
“It’ll be alright, there’s got to be a spell to get the sludge and stains out of it!” Katie tried to help.
“Do you know it?” You rasped out, you didn’t mean to be so snappy towards them, but you were pissed and embarrassed beyond belief.
“No
but maybe a teacher does! Flitwick basically knows every charm in the book!” You let out an unamused breath at Katies words. Yeah, sure. Flitwick will take time out of his day just to fix some stupid girls dress.
You didn’t say anything, you ripped off some toilet paper from the roll and wiped your cheeks with it. The first bell of the morning rang, which was a five-minute warning until the first class of the day.
Fuck, was it already 9?
“Don't let me hold you up, just tell McGonagall I'm sick if she asks.” You sighed. Katie said your name sadly.
“You can’t stay in there all day.” She tutted.
Yeah? Watch me. You almost wanted to say, but again, they weren’t the ones deserving to be snapped at.
“Just go!” You cried, “I’m not going anywhere looking like this.” Neither of them responded, you held in your cries until you saw their feet walk away and the bathroom door shut.
It wasn’t until the end of lunch when you finally left. It was pathetic, skipping two full classes and most of lunch because you were too busy crying in the bathroom and attempting to scrub the stains off your school robes and hands.
The least you could do was make it to Potions, though you really didn’t want to face the twins after your outburst at them. But, maybe when you walked in there puffy eyed and with tear-stained cheeks they’d feel bad, maybe that could be your silent revenge.
However, when you did enter that classroom. Neither of the boys were there, neither of them showed up all class period. They didn’t show up at dinner either. Which was a relief but also puzzling. They usually never skipped meals unless they were up to something. Were they too ashamed to see you after what they did?
Angelina and Katie already told you in the morning that they both wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner, they’d be busy helping Madam Hooch with something Quidditch related. Maybe that’s what Fred and George were doing too.
You left the Great Hall feeling worse than when you came in. Eating alone was never fun, especially when you were already feeling mopey.
“Oh God I was wondering when I’d see you. Angelina and Katie told me what happened.” Cedric said as he caught up to you as you were walking in an empty hallway.
“Yeah?” You stopped and looked at him, he gave you a sympathetic nod. “Good, now you know I’m gonna take out the twins.” You scoffed.
“What? Take them out on a date or in a deadly way?” Cedric chuckled.
“It’s not funny, Ced. They’ve fucked it all up.” You scowled, crossing your arms.
“There’s got to be something you can do?”
“I haven’t got a date nor a dress anymore. There’s no point of going.”
“Don’t be like that, you can still go.” Cedric sighed as you only shook your head slowly.
“There’s no point.” You dropped your arms to your side and shrugged, “Think I’m just gonna go to bed early. Goodnight Ced.” He frowned and watched as you drug yourself down the hallway.
The Fat Lady gave you a sad look as you muttered the password to her, entering the common room with slouched shoulders and a low gaze. You stayed that way until you entered the girls dormitory.
There was no way of missing the dress that was now laid nicely along your bed. Your steps quickened as you approached it, the dress was cleaned of all stains. You picked it up as if it would crumble into ashes when you touched it, it looked even better from before it was ruined.
There was a small gift box sitting with it, you stared in shock as you popped it open to reveal a necklace laying inside, an aquamarine pendant sparkling off of it. It came with a small note card with the writing nicely written down.
A replacement since the old one broke. We suck, we’re sorry. xx - F & G
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tell me what you thought! <3
TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog@five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17 @rhunew @albertdabuttler @weak-aesthetic @whotfskai @m00nymarauder @miaandthediamonds @hpstuff244444 @tarzanathetumblingwarrior @isabellavolere @navs-bhat @honeybee240 @pillowjj
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ktempestbradford · 1 year ago
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A Story for Star Trek Day
I've told this story on Twitter before. I tell it every Star Trek Day and whenever a Deep Space 9 anniversary rolls around. It's about me and Avery Brooks (aka Best ST Captain Benjamin Sisko).
The college my mother went to specifically started recruiting top Black students in the 60s. Due to this, the Black kids all mostly knew each other as they were in that same program. Avery Brooks went to the same college and they were good friends.
(She once told me he had a huge crush on her and I was like MOM. MOTHER. WHAT. HOW COULD YOU HE COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.)
Anyway, many of the students in this program remained friends long after college. So over the years as Avery was getting TV gigs & such we would all watch cuz he was my mom's friend & I thought that was the coolest. There was one particularly fun night when my best friend's uncle, Frankie Faison, guest starred on A Man Called Hawk. TWO people we know on TV!
When I was in middle school Avery was touring his production of "Paul Robeson" and it came through our town, so I got to see him perform in person (awesooooome) and meet him for the first time since I was a baby (which I did not remember, of course).
Now, backing up a little bit: I am a Star Trek fan because of my mom. She loved the original series and I remember being a wee Tempest in front of the TV watching The Wrath of Khan and us excitedly going to see Star Trek IV together.
I watched TNG from the instant it appeared on TV because of her. I watched all of The Animated Series even though everyone looked "wrong". (Man... it took me 4 months to realize that dude in the red shirt was Scotty cuz I'd only ever seen movie Scotty.)
Then... they announced Deep Space 9.
We heard Avery Brooks would be the commander and there was MUCH rejoicing around our house. DS9 turned out to be the best Trek ever and, of course, Avery was awesome. This was around the time my mom dropped that "he had a crush on me but I wasn't interested" bombshell.
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I'm still bitter.
I mean, I love my dad he's great. But SISKO COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.
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I lost my mom in 1999. She was--and I'm not exaggerating--an extraordinary woman and beloved by many. I received so many beautiful messages of condolence from her friends all the way back to those college years, including Avery. So many people remembered her fondly. <3
I kept watching Star Trek and often talked to her as if she was there during episodes. She would have LOVED Discovery. Especially since she took me to RENT the year I started college. I'm sure she would have shared my opinion of Enterprise as well. But she loved her some Scott Bakula, so she would have watched, anyway.
I got the chance to interview Avery Brooks at DragonCon back in 2013 (jeez, it's been almost 10 years omg). Before the interview, I went up to him on the Walk of Fame and I said:
Hi, I'm (name K stands for) Bradford, I don't know if you remember me...
And he looked up and said: Of course I remember you.
We talked for a bit and I asked if I could come back and interview him later and he said yes (he wasn't supposed to; his handler had A LOOK). I didn't want to hold up his line, so I said I'd see him later.
Before I could go, he reached out for my hand and squeezed it before saying: I loved your mama, you know.
And we just stayed like that for a few seconds, missing her together.
...I might have been trying very hard not to burst into tears.
That DragonCon was the last time I saw Avery. Barring an extraordinary circumstance, that's probably the last time I'll see him in person. I'm glad we got to have that moment together. And we had a great conversation!
His contribution to Trek has meant so much to me. SISKO4EVA
And I'm glad that it's another tie between me, my mom, and Trek. I can't watch DS9 without hearing her voice giving color commentary. Even the episodes she didn't live to see.
I think Star Trek is part of what gave her hope for the future. She passed that on to me. â€ïžđŸ––đŸŸâ€ïž
Happy Star Trek Day to all who celebrate.
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robbie-wallis · 7 months ago
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I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can
Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.
I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.
If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.
But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.
Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.
Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.
WATCHER HISTORY
You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".
Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".
They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.
Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.
Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.
Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.
They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.
Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.
Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.
Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.
They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.
THE DEMISE
So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.
Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.
The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.
Comparable to Netflix.
And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.
Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.
From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.
They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.
Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.
Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.
Why did they do this?
Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.
A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.
The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.
In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.
WHY IT WILL NOT WORK
Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.
I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.
This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all
Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.
The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.
The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.
Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.
Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.
Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.
The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".
And... IN THIS ECONOMY?
Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.
This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.
If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.
Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.
This ain't Netflix, y'all
As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.
Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.
You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.
We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.
Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.
They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.
I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.
They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.
Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.
This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.
This ain't good marketing, y'all
They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.
Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.
Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.
If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.
Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.
A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?
The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.
This ain't good financial management, y'all
I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.
I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.
This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.
Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.
They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.
They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.
They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.
By leaving YouTube they've lost:
Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)
Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.
Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.
Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?
And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.
I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.
This ain't nice, y'all
Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.
Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.
I get it.
Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.
They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.
These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.
They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.
They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.
"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"
You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.
In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".
They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.
Can it get worse? Sure!
We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.
The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.
Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.
The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.
This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)
Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.
If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.
But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.
They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crÚme brûlée.
People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.
Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.
Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.
Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.
Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.
Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.
This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.
What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.
They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.
And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.
Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?
The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.
That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?
The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.
They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.
Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?
I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.
I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.
EDIT:
I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.
Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.
Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.
I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.
No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.
That's just not the reality.
Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.
192 notes · View notes
sungbeam · 1 year ago
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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 :'))
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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 cafĂ© 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 đŸ€§
"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 đŸ€š: dude where did u go??? cobie hyung and i looked up and u disappeared into thin air
eric đŸ€š: 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 đŸ€š: 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 đŸ€Ł 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 đŸ’«: 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."
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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
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phantomwitch16 · 9 months ago
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Hazbin Hotel Theory: Lilith
I had never posted about Hazbin Hotel before, but I came across a theory about Lilith that I wanted to discuss. I’ve only seen clips, so correct me if I'm wrong. So, anyone who hasn't watched anything or hasn't caught up yet, WARNING: SPOILER ZONE.
At this point, everyone is quite aware of the Lilith/ Eve Theory, where Lilith left or was kidnapped by Eve to explain her disappearance for most of the show and what she was doing in Heaven. I think the theory has some promise, but some things don’t feel quite right.
In the episode where Lucifer first appears, we learn that Lilith and Lucifer seem to have split years ago. We don't know how long ago or the circumstances of the separation, with it pretty much up in the air.
It could be possible that Lucifer’s depression could've gotten in the way of their relationship (similar to his relationship with Charlie), causing some friction. This obviously would give Lilith a lot of responsibility, likely to raise Charlie and inspire the denizens of Hell by herself. We don't know much about what Lucifer does most of the time other than making ducks, keeping Lulu World running and wallowing in his depression.
I don't think that they split up, at least I don’t think that’s the whole story. There have been some odd details regarding Lilith and a few other people within the series that do add to the theory. While it's possible things might have changed during the development of the series, Viv has previously stated that Lilith and Lucifer were a very lovey-dovey couple and I doubt that she would change it. While I think their relationship would have its faults, obviously with their history and trauma, yeah, that was going to happen, but not the stereotypically 'my partner hates me' bs.
Even if they had split up, I doubt that Lilith would have just up and left Charlie without saying anything.
But anyway, since her appearance on the beach with Lute, there have been several theories about Lilith and whether she would be an antagonist or the main one. I disagree, but given how she's been pretty much a mystery for most of the series, with not much being said about her, it’s understandable most would come to this conclusion. But I doubt Lilith would be because Lilith was the one to instil Charlie to help the denizens of Hell so for her to come to disrupt her progress with the Hotel.
This obviously leads to the Lilith/Eve Theory people have come up with by what people have seen and picked apart from the show and the cards that people received before it aired. Now people who have watched the show and been on Twiiter/X or any other social media probs already know the theory, but I'll spell it out for those who don't.
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Just before the show aired, people received cards on each character and a few select items in the series. Of these characters was Lilith, but there was something off with it. Instead of seeing a revamp of her original design in the pilot, it's just a close up with her face shadowed.
The image above has Lilith or who we think is Lilith sitting with her hand over her lips and a shadow over her face, only showing a sinister smile. The one thing strikes me about it was the was almost like she know that we know there was something wrong with the image and was telling us to be quiet.
So far in the show, we've only seen her in the portraits that are decorated around the hotel and in Lucifer's ducky workshop. She makes a brief appearance in Charlie’s flashbacks where we don’t even see her face, though this is largely because the attention was focused on Charlie and Lucifer. Here it shows that even her look has remained largely consistent since the pilot.
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What truly defines Lilith design is her long wavy hair. But despite it, there is something different about it in the card. It's very long, obviously but as it gets closer to her face, it starts to look more uneven. Or jagged.
But what grabs the attention in the card is the smile. It looks very sharp and angular, very different to the smile that she has in the portraits and in her depiction on the storybook in the first episode.
But we've already seen it somewhere. Just not on Lilith.
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Obviously, this isn't a new take. This is a very popular take that nearly everyone has heard.
I like to think that with the reveal, we will get a more factual retelling of what happened when Lilith and Lucifer rather than what came out of the story book Charlie was reading, likely something her mother made for her when she was growing up. Mainly what happened to Eve as they cleverly avoided it. While we don't know if they're going to tackle it, it's likely that they will discuss Eve's life after eating the fruit and her very long life. I think that while Adam was sent to heaven to become one of the exterminators, Eve became one of the first original sinners sent to Hell.
There are several ways they could handle it with it's possible the Eve is starting a little bit of chaos using the knowledge Lilith and Lucifer gave her. With Lilith attempting to stop her alongside Lute and the rest of Heaven.
For what reason? She could've taken up a new identity after death. that identity being called Roo. Or more specifically, the Root of All Evil.
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Roo is someone that's been known for since 2019 and someone Viv is excited to introduce since she first drew her, calling her a looming threat amongst the series. Hints of her appearance have been placed throughout the pilot on the tower and on the show. I believe that Lilith, Lute and Eve are working together with Heaven to track down Roo to destroy her hold on Earth or to prevent her from doing something to Hell, Heaven and Earth.
It's also likely that she is the demon Alastor is chained to. Why her specifically and not Lilith? Besides the timeline matching, there is very little opportunity for them to meet. Even though Alastor has made a big name for himself in the Pride Ring, Lucifer has not heard of him, so why would Lilith? But that just might be a Lucifer thing, they probably could've met after one of Lilith's shows or something.
Knowing Alastor as a person, he would've been in a very desperate situation, or maybe he was too cocky like with Adam and picked a fight with her, thinking that she was some random Overlord or low ranking demon who knocked him down and stole his soul. With her having control over him, then he is willing to do anything to get out of their agreement. Whether its to play around and isolate the princess of Hell from her support network, to make her hopes and dreams crumble to dust.
It could be possible Lilith left Charlie and Lucifer to focus on Roo, with it likely that Lucifer knows what's she's up to and tries to shield her from what's happening. But as the hotel gets more popular, Roo's attention is directed to it, thus putting Charlie and all three realms in danger. Lilith would come to Charlie, try to sugarcoat it as best as possible before revealing Roo as a threat. Then when she comes there, Alastor betrays them, but as he is free, has a change of heart and attempts to help.
That's what i think anyway.
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rawliverandgoronspice · 2 years ago
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THE GERUDO POST
(aka an attempt at a critique of how gerudos were handled in BotW and before)
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Oh no. TOTK being right around the corner, it might finally be time for the Gerudo Post.
(aka half of the reason why I made a Zelda sideblog in the first place)
So I want to preface all of this by saying that, as you could probably tell already, I’ve always adored the gerudos. They have fascinated my small child brain when I was 7; then the obsession made its comeback when I was 14, and now, here we are, almost 28, and I’m still thinking about the gerudos. I think they might be among my favorite fictional cultures for their potential and their understated storyline. I guess growing up in a very Arabic neighborhood, coupled with being bi-culturally latinx (?? does Brazil count?? you tell me), also always made them feel like home to me –especially when I was very young and there was not a lot of cool female representation flying around that managed to involve fiercely independent PoC women, flaws and teeth included.
This whole weird-essay-thing tries to do two things. First: analyze the place gerudos have occupied in the series, their initial problematisms and their subtextual narrative arc during the Myth Era coupled with their relationship to Ganondorf. Second: tiptoe to Breath of the Wild and poke it with a stick to see what happens –and in doing that, explain why I believe a lot of their characterization was defanged in service of smoothing their past with the hylians instead of deepening the culture on its own terms, and why I’m a little apprehensive about what that might mean for TotK even though I adore seeing the best girls at it again.
Those are the uhh terms of service??
And now, we must go back to 1998.
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OCARINA OF TIME ERA
There’s so many things about the gerudos that are noteworthy and rich, and they’ve made for a complex piece of Zelda lore ever since their introduction –and when I say complex, I don’t 100% mean it as praise. The very racially charged decisions made about their inclusion have been discussed at length by the fandom, especially when it comes to orientalist and Islamophobic tropes being deployed pretty thoughtlessly in Ocarina of Time (their sigil being literally a crescent moon and star originally, the parallels are pretty obviously there).
We’re talking about a band of amazon-like, big-nosed brown women from the desert ruled by a single Scary Evil Man born once every hundred years hellbent on conquering Hyrule who they apparently worship like a god, characterized primarily as thieves, decked in jewelry and orientalist-inspired harem/belly-dancing clothing, hostile to the white good guys of Hyrule (especially men), unblessed by the Goddesses and so deprived of elongated ears (this is true for OoT –we’ll come back to that), also known as a demon tribe with their deity straight-out described as evil-looking by Navi (on my way to cancel you on twitter Navi you watch out), and secretly led by evil twin witches who can turn into a single seductress and, as two mothers, raised their Scary Evil Guy king who happens to basically be the devil.
In so few words, gerudos are the future that liberals want.
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It’s worth notice, also, that Ganondorf’s characterization in this game is
 kind of relentlessly uncomfortable to play through, especially before the 7 year skip. The utter assumption of depraved and evil intents from every character surrounded by dialogue that does little to hide its biases in spite of having generally very little proof to back them up –even though, in the game’s context, every character is correct to call his eyes evil and the darkness of his skin a moral judgment in on itself. The scene where Zelda demands that we believe her conclusion that the sole and only brown guy in the entire kingdom is evil and will do harm, and the game straight out refuses to progress until we concede that her dreams are prophetic and that this man must be stopped at any cost even though she has no more proof than her discomfort
 hits different on replay.
I’m restating all of this not to pretend I’m making a novel and thought-provoking point, but to bounce back on a tumblr post I saw a while back (that I can’t find anymore!! I’ll link it if I find it again) –and so express what it is that gripped me with the gerudos in spite of their pretty damning depiction
 and actually maybe thanks to it.
There’s a surprising amount of texture to Ocarina of Time’s worldbuilding that exists folded within the things introduced and left hanging, or in its subtext –and whether on purpose or not, I believe it is why people keep coming back to this iteration of Hyrule.
What was that about the king of Hyrule unifying a war-torn country? Why did the gerudos break the bridge connecting them to the rest of the kingdom during the 7 year timeskip while still worshiping Ganondorf, and why are the carpenters trying to rebuild it against their apparent wishes? What was that about gerudos imprisoning hylian men trying to force entry into their lands? What was that about the secret death torture chambers right next to the Royal Family’s tomb and connected to the race of people who were, apparently, born to serve them?
Nothing? Oh okay
 okay
 okay
.
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The same can be said about this strange depiction of this hostile tribe, consistently described as wicked yet suddenly friendly once you prove you deserve their respect once you... defeat them, so you now have joined them? Ocarina of Time isn’t very consistent when it comes to characterizing them as their occupation (thieves) or as a proper culture, with a king and a strange system of rulership that seem to involve at least 5 people: Ganondorf, the Twinrova, Nabooru and the unnamed random woman who decides you’re now part of the gerudos because you slashed enough of them with your sword and hookshot, which, uhh ok.
They’re but a ragtag and negligible group when discussed next to gorons and zoras and hylians, but they also clearly have their own religion and at least a 400-hundred years old history (probably far longer than this) and hints of a written language of their own. I’m not sure the game itself knows what it wants them to be, beyond: intimidating and hot and cool, but also wicked and, because of Ganondorf and the way you barge in their forbidden fortress (heh) with the explicit intent to dismantle their king, in apparent need to be saved from themselves.
Speaking of rulership and the Spirit Temple, let’s have a quick tangent about Nabooru: I always found her characterization when meeting with Child Link pretty strange. I refuse to mention the promised reward, which feeds into everything orientalist mentioned above, but I always found her moral compass so extremely convoluted for someone coming from gerudo culture. Nabooru says that, despite being a cool thief herself, she resents Ganondorf for killing people as well as stealing from women and children. Stealing... from women. Nabooru. Why are you this pressed that he steals from women!!! This feels so out of place, that the only girl of that hostile culture that betrays her king and befriends you, is the one that upholds moral values that only a hylian could possibly hold.
Either way: the strange unquestioned contempt of the game for them as a culture, mixed with the occasional bouts of heart, friendliness and badassery, makes it hard not to consider their depiction as pretty biased in favor of the hylians finding them at once exotic, scary and exciting, and could hide a more complex reality you might only get one side of –especially when you know there were originally plans for Ganondorf’s character to be more gray and motivated than what the campy final version ended up being. To be blunt: even in the context of a game for children, and maybe because of that fact, it all reads like a reductionist and imperialist/colonialist reading of a more complex situation.
This might seem like A Lot coming from a game where the actual game writing can be this overall flimsy and simplistic due to the standards of the time (it’s rough, it's so rough). But I would have never dwelt on that thought about a little children’s game if not for the mainline entries that came soon after, because... ooo boy.
The sense you’re not getting the whole story was certainly not helped by the introduction of Wind Waker Ganondorf, and the chilling emptiness of Gerudo Desert in Twilight Princess.
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AFTER THE TIMELINE SPLIT
(I’m skipping Majora’s Mask, not because I dislike them in the game or think they’re not worth talking about, but because it’s a parallel universe and they’re never even called gerudos and their reality seems extremely different from their sisters in Hyrule so I think it’s okay to call them tangential and not dive too deep in this particular depiction)
Here’s something I want to highlight about gerudos and how they were characterized before BotW came along: their absence. Not only their physical absence, the lack of any gerudo character that calls themselves gerudo, but their absence from the text itself.
It’s not that Wind Waker and Twilight Princess retroactively scratch them off existence: we can clearly see Nabooru’s stained glass art in WW as well as recognize them being mentioned in Ganondorf’s final boss soliloquy, and WELL there’s quite a lot to say about their imprint over the world of TP. They are there –or at least they... were there. But nobody ever talks about what happened.
In Wind Waker, there was the deluge. It’s assumed lots of people died then, and those who survived scattered across the Great Sea. Are they sealed under the waves? Have they drowned? Is Jolene, Linebeck’s ex-girlfriend in Phantom Hourglass, a distant relative of one of the rare survivors? It’s unclear, beyond the fact that Ganondorf is the only living gerudo we see in this entire branch of the Timeline split.
In Twilight Princess, the desert which bares their name is empty. The hylians never mention that it used to be the name of a tribe: they’re not even named when Ganondorf is introduced for the first time, reduced once again to a mere band of thieves. We learn his plans to steal the Triforce in OoT were foiled, and that he may have turned to war. Then he lost the war, and was executed in Arbiter’s Ground: a strange structure in the desert, a mixture between a temple, a prison and a coliseum. What looks like gerudo writing coexists with hylian symbols, which often look much fresher. This dungeon is the Shadow Temple of TP: a prison hosting the worst criminals the kingdom has ever known, now haunted and cursed. Besides the locations, the only character that vaguely look gerudo in the entire game besides Ganondorf is Telma, a character with pointed ears that never seems to identify as anything but a hylian. What happened? Who’s to say. Nobody ever says anything. Not even Ganondorf bothers to mention them the way he did in WW –and though the game’s story is quite focused on another exiled tribe seeking revenge and dominion over Hyrule as retribution, the parallel is never explicitly drawn. So who’s to say what happened there. Who’s to say.
And in A Link to the Past and the games forward? The only mention of other gerudo characters are Koume and Kotake, resurrecting their son in the Oracles games through their own sacrifice and failing to bring anything back but a monstrosity incapable of making conscious decisions. Granted, most games in that extremely weird Fallen Timeline predate OoT and therefore had yet to make gerudos up at all. Still: canonically, between the gap of OoT and ALLTP, whatever it may be, gerudos disappeared here as well.
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I think there’s something subtle and a little heartbreaking about the fact that no matter what Ganondorf does, the gerudos always end up dying out. His yearning for Hyrule, its gentler wind and the Triforce blessing its lands always costs him the kingdom that he does have already.
Now, does he care? A lot of people would argue that he doesn’t, that he used them like pawns for his own ambition and saw them as servants more-so than sisters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Nintendo’s official opinion, but
 One very powerful thing about most of Ganondorf’s incarnations (focusing on the human ones) is that he never seems to reject his cultural heritage. They could have gone for him wearing more kingly hylian stuff given the whole underlying theme of envy and pride surrounding his character, but never once does he try to look more hylian, beyond the ear situation that seems to be tied to the Triforce of Power? Either way: he is gerudo. Several of his outfits reference his mothers, as well as general gerudo patterning and jewelry. His heritage is something he proudly displays, even hundred of years in the future when there is no one left to remember what it means but him. I think it’s a very potent piece of characterization, an arc that crosses over multiple game and says something pretty intense about this character’s fate and his inherent destructiveness over the things he touches –starting with the Triforce, all the way up to his very own body and mind. His mental breakdown by the end of Wind Waker, when the king of Hyrule himself forces him to give up on the thing he sacrificed everything for, takes a new kind of weight with the whole picture taken into account.
(not to excuse genocide or general egomania-fueled madness and violence, but one thing doesn’t mean the other isn’t also relevant)
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Regardless of whether this is a tragedy for Ganondorf as their uhh complete failure of a king, honestly, it is undeniably a tragedy for the gerudos themselves: a once-in-a-lifetime joyful event turned into a never-ending nightmare from which there seems to be no escape, their legacy now condemned to fade to black, leaving nothing behind but a demon boar forever laying ruin upon the world.
One may say I’m taking on the bleakest explication for the gerudos’ absence when there could be others. It’s true! Perhaps the gerudos are just chilling off-screen, completely fine, not interested in whatever is happening in the kingdom nearby and their disaster child having yet another temper tantrum about not being the Goddesses’ favorite boy. It’s possible! But regardless, what little elements we do possess as players doesn’t seem to support this, even if it remains possible –and regardless of actual gerudo lives, gerudo culture is definitively a goner in every single timeline.
Even if they did survive... Hyrule still won its unification war.
(I won’t mention Skyward Sword as they are not really a thing there, except for a butterfly that seems to suggest the Gerudo Province was a thing before the gerudo people –I don’t know what to do with this honestly– and the whole Groose situation, which, I’m not sure what to make of either beyond the fact that he may have gotten cursed by opposing Demise? And then went on to start the gerudo tribe, which ended up being an all-women group for some reason? Maybe? It’s not confirmed? I feel like it’s more of a fun tidbit than a central piece of the gerudo puzzle, so I’ll leave it there like I would a cool rock I brought back from a walk and that I don’t know where to put in my house)
Then, Breath of the Wild happened and changed things.
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BREATH OF THE WILD
(Additional short note, but: while I won’t mention Four Swords Adventure, since it’s a weird one that almost nobody has played and severely messes with the Timeline, we kind of see the beginnings of what is about to happen in Breath of the Wild in this game –gerudos coming back without much explanation, then distancing themselves from Ganondorf to become friends with hylians because he was too hungry for power and now they are nice and have good reputation because they are our friendsss)
I was actually so happy to learn gerudos were making a comeback in a mainline Zelda game, and this got me more excited about Breath of the Wild than basically anything else the game involved. And getting to explore the Desert once again, meeting this new batch of impossibly tall buff girls, getting more about their language and their culture, Riju and the rest of the little girls are adorable, the grandmas are so cool, the sand seals??? sign me the fuck up??? And above it all, hanging around Gerudo Town at night and feeling as warm and cozy as little me liked to imagine how freeing it would feel, to stay there and watch the desert behind the safety of their walls in OoT
 This was great. I loved it.
It was a huge compensation for the criticism I’m about to make, but did leave me with
 questions regarding how their culture was going to be handled moving forward.
I’ll start with something small yet deeply revelatory, then work my way from there.
So... gerudos’ ears are pointy now.
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This is pretty significant. Lore-wise, it’s been said that the elongated ears of hylians are there so they can better hear the voices of the gods. It’s considered a sign of holiness in-universe. There's a bunch of really thoughtful analysis on tumblr over that whole Ganondorf ear situation, which is a mess but also very interesting, but the short answer is: I think the absence of pointy ears was a clear design choice to originally signify them as Less Good. Even when Ganondorf gets pointier ears, they never get as long as hylians’. Worth noting: not every non-gerudo character has pointy ears: gorons, zoras and ritos (among others) do not possess this trait, and there are even some humans that have regular rounded ears in the series –though they always seem to be of lesser relevance, if not downright peasants in Twilight Princess. Pointy ears always tended to implied a strict hierarchy in the series: basically, the more pointy, the more Protagonist you become.
(also their eyes becoming green instead of the traditional yellow/golden, which looks more wicked and demonic --and cooler also tbh)
The pointy ears imply two things. From within the game, this could be interpreted in two ways: either that gerudos
 converted, for a lack of a better term, and are now considered holy through their worship of the Golden Goddesses and/or Hylia, or that their mingling with hylians through tens of thousands of years had them acquiring this trait out of sheer genetic override (though they have kept their mostly-women birth rates, their big nose, darker skin –for the most part– and red hair). Probably a healthy mixture of both. Design-wise, it signifies something quite simple to the player: they are on hylians’ side now. They are good guys. We can trust them, even if they still have a little spice in them. They aligned themselves with us and against Ganon in all of its manifestations (even if he’s but an angry ghastly pig being parasitic to everything it touches in this iteration). They are on the side of Good, definitively, and will fight evil by our side.
On that note, I think it’s worth bringing out another major change from their initial iteration, which is their overt friendship with Hyrule as a whole, and with the Royal Family in particular. Despite not allowing any voe inside their walls (we’ll come back to this), their relationship with hylians is pretty neat. They have booming trade roads, travel and meet with the rest of the cultures, and are fierce enemies with the Yiga clan, who are renowned for being huge Calamity Ganon supporters. The tables certainly have turned. I want to bring out, in particular, Urbosa’s friendship with the queen and her role as the cool aunt taking care of Zelda and protecting her from evil (to be noted: I am not familiar with Age of Calamity so if I’m mischaracterizing her in any way, please let me know). The gerudo sense of sisterhood has been extended to the royals they used to fight against. I would go on and say the cultures peacefully coexist, but I think that what we’re looking at here is a case of vassal behavior, just like we used to have from zoras (in the non-Fallen Timelines) and gorons. This is a huge departure from gerudos being openly rejecting of Hylian culture in their initial iteration, and something that is worth returning to later.
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Okay. Now it’s time to mention the weird obsession BotW gerudos have with romance. I didn’t take notice of my issues with their writing until I realized how prevalent of a theme that was. Now, the reason given for gerudos to refuse entry to males (of every race) has much more to do with preventing young gerudos to make mistakes than anything else, and is actively being put into question by the younger generations –which would make sense. But the amount of NPCs that either lament their lack of match, talk about their husbands (because they marry now apparently) or are invested in romance, and a very limited understanding of romance at that (heterosexual, closed, etc), makes for much more of the population that I initially expected. There’s no mention of what’s going on with their males, if there are new males being born and either exiled or abandoned, or if Ganondorf being technically still alive have have cut them off male heirs. Either way: no more kings, only girlbosses chiefs.
To have the gerudos so interconnected with Hyrule, not only through trade but through extremely coded romance where they have to make themselves palatable to a future male partner and enforce fidelity, was
 a choice. The extremely brief and skippable mention of gerudos sometimes going to Castle Town in search for boyfriends in OoT became half of their personality traits in this game. We went from a race that was fiercely independent and mocking of the unworthy men who tried to mingle with them, to
 this. Now I’m not saying some of the sidequests aren’t cute, or that I didn’t like the wedding, or that the grandma near the abandoned statue of Hylia (so she was worshipped at some point) clocking us and talking about her love life wasn’t one of my favorite gerudo conversations. I’m saying that the vibes have definitively changed. For the better? I’m not sure.
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I once stumbled upon an article that said that Breath of the Wild gerudos were a huge improvement compared to their original introduction, because they were no longer presented as evil and hostile thieves groveling at the boot of a single man, but as a full culture allied with the protagonist and actively involved in the story, while still getting their Cool Girl Badass moment (again can’t find it anymore, I’ll link it if I stumble upon it again). I see where this comes from, but I honestly can’t help but consider it a reading that assumes something pretty major (though through no fault of their own, as the games tend to hammer this down as hard as they can), and that being hylians as the unquestioned anchor of Good.
Which, in spite of what the games want me to believe, I
 feel uncomfortable taking at face value.
To me, regarding how gerudos are being incorporated in that goodie narrative, this is kind of a case of surface-level feminism trumping over colonialist/imperialist concerns. It becomes more important to perform the aesthetics of being cool and friendly and independent than scratching at any deeper problem that would risk making people uncomfortable. This is kind of Green Skin Ganon all over again: oh wait, isn’t it a little icky to have the evil bad guy being brown while faced by the most aryan-looking ass heroes of all time? Okay, then let’s take the brown guy and make his skin green so we don’t have to feel bad anymore that the conflict has racial undertones!! Solved!! There’s nothing questionable about changing a PoC's features to make it more monstrous and less human, right?
To me, it’s kind of the coward option: instead of accepting the messy reality those initial choices created (and their interesting nuances if taken at face value), let’s just
 rewrite the PoC culture’s history to make it feel less uncomfortable for the white heroes. In many ways, it is an extension of what hylians have always done: scrubbing the weird and messy things about the past and shoving them deep down into the spooky well and far into the desert prison and away in alternate hellish dimensions, and then make up a very simple story where they get to feel good about themselves –except this time, it’s the fabric of the games, the literal reality, bending backward to make it happen. Which, in my opinion, makes it much worse than before. Now, there’s no conversation. The fabric of reality is changing their own history so that there is nothing to discuss anymore. Ganondorf was always evil incarnate. He never had any point. It was always 100% his own fault, his own hubris, his own fated wickedness. He was always demonic (and green, very important –having a flashback to people on twitter accusing artists restoring the TotK green skin to the original brown of wanting to make Ganondorf black, and like
.. how do I put it gently
..)
And, above all else: gerudo are to distance themselves from his legacy so they can stay in the club of the Good and Just and Holy.
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Because here’s the messy thing: as much as I love seeing the gerudos again in Breath of the Wild and as much I love for them to have survived the Era of Myth (??? somehow ???), this
 kind of changes Ganondorf’s character arc. No longer do we have the story of a king who wanted more, either for his people, for himself or both, and led his culture to its destruction in his search for absolute Power, while remaining ironically incapable of maintaining what little he already had. This starts from him kneeling to the king of Hyrule in OoT and leads to the deluge, Arbiter’s Ground, his own mothers dying for the sake of his failed resurrection. Breath of the Wild changes this: now, the gerudo were apparently fine without him? They apparently did their own thing and became suddenly and inexplicably disconnected from his actions? I know it’s kind of implied they side with hylians at the end of OoT, but it’s honestly never really explored why they would cheer for the death of their king while never seeming to resent him before except for Nabooru –there are mentions of brainwashing for those who resist him (as well as “other groups in the desert”, tho they are never mentioned again), but it’s hardly a proper plot point for the majority of the tribe, aaaand they still die by Wind Waker in the Adult Timeline, in spite of their potential alliegance

(again, this shift towards submitting to Hyrule actually started with Four Swords Adventure, getting crisper with each iteration)
There used to be this polite blur regarding Ganondorf’s relationship to them, how much he used them and how much he acted in their name (with arguments for both sides), and I think this messy and debatable question mark was one of the most compelling aspects of his character. Gerudos rejecting their relationship at a near-cosmic, reality-bending level, removes a huge layer of complexity to both parties
 all for the benefit of making hylians come out cleaner out of this whole exchange, their moral grayness barely a whisper in the distance.
I’ll kind of go on the record and say that I suspect the addition of Demise to the canon to serve a similar purpose (at least in part): if Ganondorf becomes but the manifestation of a demonic curse, and is no longer an extremely messy character brimming with agency and drive, forcing the heavens to reckon with said agency in a way he was never meant to access, born from a complex set of circumstances from which we clearly get only a limited and biased perspective, then it becomes extremely clear that he’s a Bad in a way that isn’t worth exploring further. Even if he does have some points, he is a Bad. It’s what matters most. Not to say I even hate what this angle can bring to the table or that I want him to become Good (I don’t –I’ll talk more about why I dislike most takes on him being a helpless victim to the curse), but once again, who benefits from adding another Unquestionned Baddie to the equation to rest upon? Not him, and not the gerudos, that’s for sure.
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So. Why did I, me, personally, like the gerudos in the first place?
Beyond the inherent coolness factor of their culture and the fascinating mysteries of what is merely suggested, I think
 I think I loved gerudos because we were obvious outsiders. Because their rejection of Hylian culture was so sharp and extreme, their value system so different, and their writing, their religion, their relationship to power and hierarchy and worth wanted nothing to do with hylians. They didn’t need hylians, beyond them having potential resources to steal. In fact, the threat of hylians influencing their culture was such that the entry to the Fortress was forbidden to everyone (I don’t think men were ever singled out, by the way, even though they are mocked relentlessly). I think there was something inherently hopeful about this semi-matriarchy resisting the outside world, and especially its notions of what girls were meant to be –it was 1998, and every other girl character in OoT, besides Impa and Sheik that?? is another can of worms entirely, is either helpless or someone to save. For them to reject this narrow vision of femininity was, in my opinion, much more radical than what we got in BotW. Less nuanced, more problematic perhaps? But also much more powerful. Gerudo Valley is home, not to a town, but a Fortress.
Hylians were worth being resisted.
In Breath of the Wild, their refusal to let men enter their town is kind of boiled down to a fading tradition over-focused on romance, a meek little game of chase. Their entire goal seems to be finding a hylian to settle down with. Say what you will about the single man and the many girls (never explored and completely open-ended in its implications, btw), but at least it wasn’t
 that. At least it opened the way for different ways for people to exist and imagine culture and civilization, outside of the heterosexual couple, the christian-infused patriarchy and its trickling down implications. What I want to say is: let my girls tell hylians they ain’t shit!! That they aren’t the end all be all of reality! This is what made gerudos so compelling in the first place! Where is that bite now? Where is that self-definition?
It’s gone, because hylians need to be Good. So we tee-hee at the creep running laps around the town, we disguise ourselves to breach their trust and infiltrate their town (though there is nuance to be had there, gender be complicated etc), we watch them pine after shitty dudes and take classes to become the perfect approachable woman and make love soups with ?? strange ingredients honestly, and we witness them get very friendly with the Royal Family they used to conspire against, dying to protect the princess against the manifestation of their ancient king reduced to a raving puddle of Bad Boar.
Hyrule, unified against him.
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TEARS OF THE KINGDOM
For posterity’s sake: this post was made before the game was released. I’ll probably update my thoughts on a separate thing later on.
I don’t think gerudos allying with the hylians and burying their own legends about Ganondorf as deeply underground as they can until it blows up in their face is a bad setup at all. It’s actually pretty juicy, and there’s a ton of fascinating stuff that could happen here –even some involving gerudos taking a firm stand against him while still reconnecting with their past and the choices they made once. This is my hope with the title of the game: Tears of the Kingdoms. Let’s examine them all, account for the damage, and decide how we move forward from there with the full knowledge of where we come from.
What I am afraid of (and I already made posts about that) is the scenario where gerudos rallying against Ganondorf, which I expect will forcefully try to take back his place as their king, is used for cheap feminist points that completely fail to examine, well. Everything mentioned above. Where reality bends itself out of the way of the Goddesses, and hylians’ responsibility in any of this mess, so that everything bad is 100% Ganon’s fault and so he must be cast aside and torn away from the Cool Gerudo Girls and this is 100% justified and deserved because we are Independent Women Who Take No Shit from No Men (unless they are the king of Hyrule or any random hylian they wish to marry apparently).
I’ll say this here because it’s been burning my mouth every time I see discourse about Ganondorf and the gerudo: gerudos declared him as their king. To make a really bad comparison that I dislike: he didn’t run around to assemble girls and make a cult around himself, he was born with the cult already formed around him (and it’s not a cult, it’s just a different mode of governance –hylians also revere the Royal Family like gods, don’t they?). This heavily changes the dynamics at play. Not to remove any agency from him to do a little invasion about it, but chances are the ancestors to BotW’s gerudos fully expected him to behave in this way, at least to a degree –in OoT you see very plainly that they value physical prowess, feats of thievery, witchcraft and general violence. It’s more complicated than him being a Bad and making the poor helpless women go along with the plan uwu –even taking the brainwashing into account, AND Koume and Kotake counting as gerudos too, even if they might not be not fully innocent in shaping the culture and the man himself. If manipulation and forced servitude is the explanation given, I’ll be genuinely mad –because, once more, all the nuance and messiness would be flattened for the sake of making Ganondorf Bad and the gerudo Good (= on hylians’ side).
It bears to be said: I think feminism stances that require, not to criticize (which is fair), but to fully dehumanize and bestialize men of color to make any sense are uhhh bad, and it's worth questionning who they end up serving in the end.
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The flip side of this would be to make Ganondorf a poor little meow meow that was secretly controlled by the evil Demise all along, and... I’ll be real. I really don’t think it solves our problem at all. It might even make it worse.
My problem with how gerudos have been handled thus far, being mostly connected to how they behave in relation to hylians Good, is that they’ve been systematically defanged not to threaten the status quo as much as they used to. I think it’s pretty clear why I’m not a fan of Ganondorf being a mere victim of cosmic circumstances; I have a post that goes more in depth about this, but to simplify: my man has legitimate grievances. To make him a mere puppet to Evil Incarnate would, to me, be just another attempt to erase the despotism of the Goddesses, the unjust hierarchy of the world, what hylians have historically done to the races they were in conflict with (looking at the Yiga for the most recent example
)
I’m not saying his fight is clean or even legitimate, that he isn't driven by his own sense of self-importance above anything else, or that he should win (he has no plan beyond domination and victory, that's not a future). But I think there’s something really important about having someone being willing to fully consume himself and everything around him for the simple fact that someone should resist the order of the world. Even if that makes him a heartless, cruel, and egomaniac demon-pig. Even if there’s no Hyrule left to rule. Even if his own people despise him, or are long gone and forgotten.
Is it a little heart-wrenching? Uhh yes to me yes most definitively. This is why Wind Waker Ganondorf hits so hard, and remains (I think) his favorite entry in the series so far. But
 I still find this fate of eternal resistance more resonant and empowered, and far less grim, than if Hyrule’s lore absorbs his hatred and rage, gives it to another entity that would be Badder (= more opposed to hylians and the goddesses), and scrubs it off anything icky and uncomfortable, rendering it completely domesticated and non-threatening to hylian domination; rubbed of his skin color, of his complexity, of his own emotions, even made... kind of sexy now, in the same way his sisters have been made before him? I am very, very afraid of him being turned from furious and an unapologetic subject in his own legend to a "redeemed" (according to whom??) and palatable object in somebody else’s, that you now end up having to
 save from himself.
Again, I want to trust that Tears of the Kingdom can walk that line and preserve everything sharp and contrasting and profound and thrilling about this fascinating setup. I don’t expect a philosophy course, this is a game for children –but it doesn’t mean Nintendo didn’t do an astounding job with similar setups in the past. Again, I’ll invoke the Wind Waker conflict, but Twilight Princess did a lot of great things as well (Zant’s speech, if you can get past the weird stretches and stumping and NNHYAAAs, is pretty fantastic) –and the subtle writing of Majora’s Mask is also proof enough this series can be complex without being impermeable.
So this is where my hope lies. Not really with BotW’s writing, which, I’m sorry to say, but I found to be below what the series has done in the past (I have no problem with the setup and how the story is explored, I think it was a great idea, but wasn’t ever sold on the actual writing the way I may have been with previous titles –it felt
 very tropey to me overall, with a couple of highlights). But Nintendo has shown to know how to write compelling stories for children that know where to sprinkle its darkness and how to preserve its hope, and this is this side I’m relying on for this delicate storyline moving forward.
And now? Now
 I suppose we wait and see.
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(thank you for reading my impossibly long essay what the actual hell, at least I got it all out of my system, see you in part 2 for when TotK comes out I suppose aaa)
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thoseboysinblue · 1 year ago
Text
What Nobody Sees
Part 1
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Christian Pulisic x reader
You have unexpectedly found yourself tangled up in a long-term situationship with Christian.
Word count: 4700+
Warnings: Swearing, smut (under 18 DNI)
Song Inspo: Sin So Sweet by Warren Zeiders
Requested: No
Author's note: The original concept for this is based on a dream I had. Once I heard the song, I knew it was an immediate fit. This will be a multi-part series. Thank you, as always to @neverinadream for helping me to flesh this out. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!
September 2023
Why does he always have to be one of the last ones to arrive? You think to yourself as you wait impatiently in your room trying to distract yourself with plans for tomorrow's training session.
Yesterday, you had busied yourself with greeting the other players as they arrived for the September training camp and upcoming international friendlies. Last night you ate dinner with a few of the guys, joining them for a few card games after dinner before trying to get some sleep.
Today seems to be dragging though as you are anticipating Christian's arrival. Even though you know the arrival schedule like the back of your hand, having studied it time and time again, you still find your self glancing between the schedule and your phone as the minutes tick by slower and slower.
A quiet knock at the door, pulls your attention away from your work. You immediately know who it is from the two quick knocks a short pause and two more knocks in succession.
You take a minute to shake yourself free of the smile that has spread on your face and collect your thoughts.
"You couldn't even greet me in the lobby like the rest of the staff," he drawls, pulling you into a hug and burying his face into your neck.
"You weren't supposed to be here for another hour, you could've told me you were getting in earlier," you say, pulling back from him to look him in the eyes.
"My flight got cancelled, so I booked a private, no one told you?" he grins, nudging your nose with his.
"No, no one told me, including you," you say with a bit of an eye roll.
"Maybe I wanted to see you for the first time since June in private, and not with everyone there watching," he smirks at you.
"Yeah, why's that?" you can't help but let the corners of your mouth draw upwards into a faint smile.
"So I could do this," he says, leaning in and closing the distance between your faces as he slides his hand around the back of your head and presses his lips to yours gently.
Butterflies immediately swarm in your stomach. This isn't like him, he's never affectionate like this with you, and he's breaking the unspoken rule the two of you seem to have regarding kissing.
Stop it. Stop it y/n. He just hasn't seen you in a while. He's just horny and this means nothing. It can't mean anything.
You break away from him naturally, both of you sharing a brief smile.
"Well I'm glad you finally made it," you say turning towards your bed as he follows behind you, "the other Italy boys got here yesterday but they said you had to go home first before coming to camp, everything ok?"
Small talk is easy between you and Christian. You were friends before you unexpectedly found yourselves falling into bed with one another every time he was at training camp with the US. Now here you were, this undefined situation you were in having carried on for just over a year. You were his training camp hook up, you assumed he had someone just like you waiting in Florida and probably in Milan by now as well.
You were a convenience, a way to fulfill his needs while he was busting his ass for the national team, and you weren't going to turn down the mind blowing sex you'd been having with him, so it worked out for you as well.
However, he never made you feel like you were just one of many, even though you figured you probably were. The thought of him sleeping with anyone else didn't bother you too much as you'd sworn you wouldn't catch feelings for him because they would definitely be unrequited. He couldn't see you like that. You were you, he was him, he was miles out of your league, except when he was on international duty. Then, for just that brief time, you could pretend a small part of him belonged to you.
"Everything's fine, my sister just wanted to have a belated 1st birthday party for Avery, and I guess an early birthday party for me," he says turning you to face him.
You reach for the hem of his shirt, assuming you know what he's here for until he grabs your wrist.
"That's not why I'm here, I just came by to say hi. I've got to go do some media stuff," he smiles softly at you.
"Already?" You question and he nods, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand grazing your jaw, sparking the butterflies again. Those damn butterflies. "Guess that's what happens when you're the star of the show," you chuckle at him.
"I'll text you later, you joining the team for dinner or do you want me to make an excuse to order room service?" he smiles.
"I was actually thinking I might eat in my room tonight," you shrug at him.
"Well then it's settled, we can eat together in my room," his offer catching you off guard.
"Don't you want to catch up with the guys?" you question him a little puzzled.
"I'd rather catch up with you," he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead.
"Don't do that," you sigh, resting your forehead against his chest.
"Don't do what?" he says settling his hands over your hips.
"The sweet stuff. You and I both know that's not what this is," you mumble against him.
"Ok" he huffs grabbing a handful of your ass.
"That's more like it," you giggle against him.
"I'll see you later," he says, turning and leaving the room, but not before giving you one final glance, his eyes wandering up and down your body, a body he'd gotten to know almost as well as his own over the past year.
Dieci: Meet me in my room in ten. Everyone is downstairs so you shouldn't have to worry about bumping into anyone 😉
Y/N: đŸ‘đŸ»
Outside of camp, you and Christian rarely texted. You would occasionally like each other's social media posts, maybe reply to a story, but communication was pretty limited other than that.
You hated that seeing his name flash across your screen made your heart skip a beat lately, because he wasn't yours, not really, and you knew this little game would eventually end between the two of you.
Stepping off of the elevator, you glance quickly down the hallway, making sure you don't see anyone milling about, while a large part of the team knows about your little arrangement with Christian, the staff members do not, and you'd prefer to keep it that way.
You knock quietly on his door, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when he opens the door wearing only a pair of shorts hanging low on his hips.
He notices the way you're looking at him and gives you a little smirk.
"Jesus Christ what are they feeding you in Italy," you drag your eyes shamelessly over his body reaching out to grab his bicep. "You must be hitting the gym hard over there, Christian, you're huge."
Obviously the physical attraction between the two of you is there or you wouldn't be in this situation, you know he loves it when you praise him in any way, so you never hold back on the compliments.
"Christian, you're huge," he mimics your words, "things I always love to hear," he says winking at you.
"I was referring to your arms," you chuckle.
"Mmmhmm, we will see about that in just a little bit," he says grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the bed, noticing the way your thighs clamped shut at his words, a slight blush painting your cheeks in anticipation. "But first, let's order some food," he says flopping down onto the bed and pulling you with him.
You decide what you want to eat and Christian calls and places the order for room service. "No dessert?" you arch an eyebrow at him.
"Nope. I plan on having dessert before dinner. Maybe twice," he chuckles, settling himself between your legs, his face hovering over yours. He runs his nose over the bridge of your nose, desperate to kiss you, but knowing that's not an option.
You turn your face away from him, fighting your own temptation to give in and kiss him the way you want to. Kissing means feelings, and you cannot allow yourself to fall for him, a move that would surely lead to your heart getting broken.
He resigns to trailing sloppy kisses along your neck, a faint moan escaping your lips when he grazes his teeth over your pulse soothing the sting with his tongue.
"I've missed...." he stops himself when your eyes snap to burn into his, your breath hitching in your throat as you are uncertain of what he's about to confess. "Hearing you moan," he finishes, losing the nerve to tell you he has missed you.
The truth is he has missed you, having not seen you since June. He had invited you to Florida while he was home, wanting a chance to spend time with you, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the team. He knew the fact that you had to work the July camp made it impossible but it still stung a bit when you declined his offer.
Everything aside, the two of you never had a conversation about what was going on between you, never made it clear that this was just a hook up and that neither of you were allowed to catch feelings. But he has no idea what you are thinking or where the two of you actually stand.
He slides his hands under your shirt and you sit up enough to allow him to pull it over your head making quick work of taking off your bra as well.
He dips his head to swirl his tongue around your right nipple, his thumb and forefinger rolling the left between them. He licks a stripe between your breasts before pulling your left nipple between his lips.
"Fuck, Christian, I've missed that mouth of yours," you breathe out feeling him smirk against you as he leaves a purple bruise just below your left breast before he kisses his way down your body.
"You've missed this mouth?" he says in a cocky tone tugging at the waistband of your shorts with his teeth, sliding his fingertips under it and waiting for you to lift your hips.
"Yes, I've missed your mouth, but not so much all the talking," you huff as you lift your hips, encouraging him to give you what you really want.
Christian doesn't know it, but you haven't slept with anyone else since you've been sleeping with him, and while you and your vibrator can get the job done, there is no replacement for what he can do to you.
He chuckles as he drags your shorts down your legs, taking your underwear with them, and settling himself between your legs, glancing up to see your eyes burning into his, silently pleading with him.
He presses a kiss to your lower abdomen, then trails his tongue down to your pubic bone, placing another kiss there.
"No, no, no," you whimper, knowing he's planning on teasing you before giving you what you actually want.
"What's the matter, you don't want me to go down on you?" he smirks against your inner thigh, already knowing the answer.
"Yes, I do, please, I don't want you to tease me, it's been nearly two months since I felt your mouth on me, Chris, please, and our food will be here soon, we don't have time," you beg him, knowing it probably won't make a difference, but he has enough power over you to reduce you into a begging mess in a matter of minutes and both of you know it.
"Darlin', you and I both know I can make you cum twice in under ten minutes, we've got plenty of time," he kisses along the inside of your other thigh.
"Your skin is so soft, baby" he nuzzles his face against you before using his tongue to tease your folds apart, carefully avoiding your clit.
"How about instead of teasing me, you see if you can make me cum twice in under 8 minutes," you breathe out, knowing he will have a hard time resisting a challenge.
"I know you say you don't like the teasing, but you actually do like it," he nips at the soft spot just to the side of your entrance pulling a quiet yelp from you, "you're already dripping for me," he barely dips his tongue into you, humming "so sweet," against you.
He glances over at the clock, "eight minutes you said?" You nod, staring him down, "bet you a coffee in the morning I can do it in seven," he winks at you as you buck your hips towards his face when he finally gives in and flicks his tongue over your clit.
"Thank fuck," you groan as your head falls back against the pillows as he chuckles against you before beginning to work you over expertly, more than a year of experience in memorizing your body and how you react to him giving him guidance.
He doesn't even bother with starting slowly, he knows it's not what you need, as he flattens his tongue against you before flicking and sucking at your clit. Glancing up your body he watches as you roll your nipples between your fingers helping yourself along.
"You're so fuckin' hot" he mumbles against you, but continues push you towards the edge. When he's certain you are close, he slides two fingers into you, enjoying the delicious way you clench around them instantly as you let out a gasp.
He curls his fingers against your g-spot pulsing them a couple of times before holding them still and pressing them against your sweet spot while he uses his tongue to bring your high crashing down over you.
He watches as you grip the sheets with one hand, the other moving to rest on top of his head as your back arches off of the bed and his name tumbles out of your mouth as part moan and part sigh.
"Baby, of all the ways I've heard my name fall from that pretty mouth of yours, that might be my favorite," he whispers against you, the softness in his voice sending the butterflies swarming.
You squirm against him when he starts moving his fingers again, not even giving you time to come down from your first orgasm before throttling you towards a second.
"Christian, I can't" you pant out, your head rolling against the pillows when you clamp your eyes shut.
"Y/N, open your eyes and look at me" he says softly, even as he continues his movements, "if you want me to stop, you need to use the safe word, but I know you've got another one for me, I can feel it. If it's too much, say the word, do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head, his voice reassuring you, as you regain your composure. "No, I don't want you to stop, I can handle it." You focus your eyes on his as he changes his position, pulling one leg over his forearm while he kneels on the bed between your legs, the new position causing your hips to tilt upward and his fingers to drive into you at the perfect angle.
"Good girl," he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, "my perfect good girl," he mumbles as you nod and clench tightly around his fingers.
He flicks his tongue over your nipple, before using his other hand to press down on your lower belly. "What the fuck," you babble somewhat incoherently, the added pressure making everything feel more intense.
When his thumb circles your clit you feel something that you've never felt before. Your body convulses and writhes beneath him you catch one more glimpse of him, an intent look of satisfaction on his face as he knows he's got you exactly where he wants you. Your vision goes dark as you try to get his attention, "Christian, Chris, Chris, baby," the franticness in your voice snapping his focus to your face.
But it's too late, your second orgasm hits you with a ferocity that neither of you were expecting, the intensity of two orgasms mere minutes apart causing you to squirt for the first time ever. It takes you a moment to come to your senses again and realize what just happened.
Christian is still kneeling between your legs as he gently lowers your leg and withdraws his fingers from you, taking in the scene in front of him as it slowly registers.
Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush and you try to move to get out of the bed realizing you've soaked the sheets and him.
"Um, did you just..." Christian looks himself over, placing a hand on your leg to keep you from getting out of the bed, a little embarrassed himself to be asking that question when it's obvious what just happened.
You nod, unable to look at him or speak to him properly.
"Have you ever done that before?" he slides his hand along your jaw tilting your head up to look at him.
"No, never" you shake your head, "has that ever, um, have you ever," you close your eyes, frustrated that you can't get a fucking sentence out. "Have you ever done that to anyone else?" You sigh, opening your eyes to find him staring at you.
"No, that was a first for me, too," he grins proudly, "and don't be embarrassed, that was literally the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."
You cover your face with your hands as a laugh escapes your lips, but he pulls your hands out of the way, his face now hovering a few inches from yours.
"And you called me baby, you've never called me that before," he smiles broadly at you.
"Surely, I have" you knit your eyebrows together.
"No, I'd definitely remember that, it's been Christian, Chris, an occasional Cap, Captain, or Pulisic, a slew of curse words, but never baby," he leans down, glancing between your eyes and lips, desperate to kiss you.
As you part your lips, almost allowing yourself to give in to him, a knock at the door interrupts you.
He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, the look of frustration evident on his features.
"That's probably our dinner" he sighs, leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip sending a shiver up your spine.
You both get out of bed, Christian throwing the duvet over the mess you'd made while you grab your clothes. He meets you in the bathroom where you are getting dressed and cleans himself up a little before pulling a shirt over his head.
"Good luck with that," you chuckle, nodding towards the visible tent in his shorts as he blushes and attempts to rearrange himself before opening the door to his room.
You stay out of sight until you hear the person delivering your food leave, emerging from the bathroom to find Christian arranging your food onto the small table in his room, random sports highlights playing on the tv in the background.
He glances up and smiles at you as you make your way over to the table. "You ok?" he asks shyly as you nod.
"This looks nice," you smile at him, pouring each of you a glass of water.
You sit down and begin chatting while you eat, catching up on various things and sharing food back and forth when a clip comes on of his interview from earlier in the day spliced in with some of his recent AC Milan highlights.
His attention turns slightly towards the tv and you notice the flicker of a smile that dances on his lips at the praise he's receiving for his recent form. You nudge him with your knee get his attention, "it's been fun watching you enjoy club football again," you smile softly at him as he nods.
"So you've been watching?" he grins.
"I try to catch as many games as I can for everybody, helps me to know what you are looking like prior to getting here," you shrug.
"No other reason?" he narrows his eyes as you shake your head.
"So if several of us are playing in the same time slot, who are you going to watch?" he arches an eyebrow at you noticing the way you drop your gaze to your plate and blush slightly.
He taps his foot against yours, patiently waiting for an answer. When you glance back up at him and smile at him playfully, "Wes of course" you chuckle.
You let out a squeal as he launches himself at you, scooping you up and tossing you on the clean side of the bed. "We both know that's not true," he smiles down at you, "is it?"
"No, it's not," you breathe out as he grazes a kiss to the underside of your jaw.
"You like watching me play, don't you?" he questions you lowly.
"Yes, I've told you that. I think the way you play is creative and beautiful and I'm really glad I get to see it more regularly now," you speak honestly, "and watching you, it makes me horny," you whisper, threading your fingers into his hair.
He smiles against your neck leaving a trail of kisses there before he once again pulls your shirt over your head.
"So sexy," he mumbles against your chest kissing over the tops of your breasts as you take your bra off and toss it to the floor.
"Tell me," he glances up at you before flicking his tongue over your nipple, "what do you do when you're horny for me and I'm thousands of miles away?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," you chuckle. He sits up between your knees, pulling his shirt over his head, a cocky smile spreading over his lips as he notices the way your eyes drag over his body.
"I would actually," he bites his lip as he pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, "do you think about me when you fuck yourself, y/n?"
The way you blush and look away from him gives him the answer he's craving.
He sheds himself of the remainder of his clothes, his cock springing free as he wraps his hand around it.
"I'll tell you a secret," he groans as you reach for him, wrapping your hand over the top of his, "I think about you, too" he leans down and whispers into your ear, nipping at your earlobe.
"I'm sure you're other girls won't appreciate that," you tilt your head back allowing him more access to your neck.
He continues trailing his tongue along your neck but his mind is going in a million different directions, the two of you have never discussed whether or not you're sleeping with anyone else, but now it's obvious to him that you think he has others, a twinge of jealousy washing over him at the thought of you having others as well.
You push against his chest and he turns to lay on his back, watching as you move to to straddle him, facing backwards. He grabs your wrist and shakes his head, "I want to see you," he says lowly, his eyes darkening, "I want to watch every inch of you while you take every inch of me."
You nod turning to face him, your hands resting on his chest as he lines himself up with your entrance. He grips onto your hip as you sink down on him.
"Baby," a strangled moan escapes his lips as he throws his head back against the pillows and closes his eyes momentarily.
You sit yourself more upright, enjoying the delightfully painful stretch you've missed since the last time you were with him.
"You good?" you ask as his hands skim along your sides coming up to brush his thumbs across your nipples.
He nods as you roll your hips and begin to slowly bounce over him, allowing both of you time to find a rhythm you enjoy.
You can't deny how much you love seeing him like this, hair disheveled, eyes wild, strings of profanities and praises tumbling from his mouth; the usual quiet and reserved side of him melted away.
"God, y/n, you're squeezing me so tight baby, you feel so fucking good," he squeezes into your hips and holds you steady while he thrusts up into you.
"Yes, Christian, just like that," you moan out, curling your fingertips into his chest. You lean forward slightly, flattening your hand against him, dangerously close to his neck as he bites his lower lip.
He makes eye contact with you, and lifts his chin encouraging you to do what he knows you are thinking about.
You've spent your fair share of nights coming undone with Christian's hands wrapped around your throat, but you've never thought about doing the same to him...until now.
You slide your hand around his throat, squeezing slightly as he smirks at you and you feel him twitch inside of you.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groans and you can tell he's fighting to hold it off, not wanting to cum before you do.
His head thrashes against the pillows as you squeeze him tighter, your fingers digging into his neck when you lean down to whisper into his ear, "cum for me, baby."
"Shit, shit, shit," he moans as he shudders beneath you, gripping you as his high surges through him.
You slide your hand to his jaw as you collapse onto his chest.
"Fuck me," he sighs kissing the side of your head, "I'm a little scared by how fast that made me cum," he chuckles as you both work to regain your composure.
"Shit, you didn't finish did you?" he groans as you flop on the bed beside him and he turns to face you.
You shake your head, "but you got me off twice earlier, so going up 3-1 seems unfair," you grin at him.
You lean over and kiss him on the cheek, reassuring him that you're perfectly fine. He sighs wishing you'd properly kiss him.
You climb out of the bed and throw one more lingering glance at him before going into the bathroom to clean yourself up and get dressed.
After a few minutes, you head back into the room to find that he's dressed and cleaning up.
"I called downstairs, they are going to bring up some linens when they come to get the cart from dinner," he smiles at you.
You nod and help him place everything back onto the dinner cart before turning your attention to stripping the linens off of his bed, finding yourself getting a little lost in the domesticity of it all.
Once they've brought the clean linens, you help him remake the bed. He flops down on the bed and grabs your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours and giving them a squeeze.
"You're staying aren't you?" his eyes meet yours, pleading with you.
"What? No. I mean, I never stay. You never stay," you stammer, his request catching you a bit off guard.
"Oh, I just thought maybe after last time, you might," he drops his gaze and pulls his hand from yours. The action making your heart ache for him.
"Christian, I can't," you whisper, not quite able to get your voice to work.
He nods as you lean down and kiss him on the cheek, "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize," he offers you a weak smile, "I understand," he lies. Truthfully, he doesn't understand, he doesn't understand why you won't kiss him, why you won't stay with him, why after so long of being together in the way that you have been, you won't let him in.
You leave quietly and go back to your room, wishing you had it in you to go back and crawl into bed with him.
You take a shower, trying to clear your head and prepare yourself mentally for the days ahead.
When you climb into bed you notice a notification on your phone:
Dieci: I wish you would've stayed
@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @bracedes
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logicalbookthief · 2 years ago
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One thing I really wish we had time to expand on in the show is Kazuki’s relationship with Kyu.
Originally, I speculated that in this episode we might see a bit of role reversal from the start of their relationship where Rei would be taking care of Kazuki in the aftermath of their loss. You know who actually filled this role, though?
Kyutaro.
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He tells Kazuki, literally, “I’m not comfortable giving you a job that will put you in danger when you’re in this state of mind.” Basically halting those self-destructive impulses in their tracks.
Knowing that Kazuki needs the money, Kyu hands over the funds that Karin refused, which he kept, seemingly for Kazuki if he ever needed.
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However, when Kazuki demands he hand it all over at once, Kyutaro refuses, well aware that Kazuki will spend it other self-destructive habits (drinking, gambling) if upset and left to his own devices.
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Mom, indeed. This reads to me almost like a older/little brother relationship?
We have no idea how old Kazuki was when he got involved in this business, only that it was before he met/lost Yuzuko, so he was younger than 23. If we assume he was with her for at least a few years, he could’ve still been a teenager (18/19) when he started as a contract killer. Has Kyutaro known him all that time?
He has definitely known Kazuki since Yuzuko, as he was familiar with Karin and knows exactly what happened to his family. Has he watched this same self-destructive spiral happen before? Hence why he’s not comfortable with sending Kazuki out on a dangerous job?
And the fact that when Rei calls Kazuki to warn that Miri is in danger, who does Kazuki immediately turn to for help? Kyutaro.
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He checks in with him while driving, too, like hello?? Thank you for acknowledging the wound because yeah, I bet it did hurt like hell when he was shot and someone stuck their finger in the wound.
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And this response. Caring enough about protecting Kazuki even when Kazuki himself is already sinking into feelings of guilt and inadequacy.
Anyway, Kyutaro is the hypocrite in this episode because he was the most vocal in saying that you shouldn’t get attached in this sort of business, not unless you’re willing to see it through. Well, guess who was attached long before the series started and is going to see it through now, sir.
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chigirisprincess · 1 year ago
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Flowers Never Bend with Rainfall⋆.àłƒàż”*:
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— Wriothesley
âŠč Details. 18+ minors dni, fem! reader, mentions of reader wearing a corset, gown and earrings, arranged marriage, original characters; reader has an unnamed family and older sister, nobility and high society's conventions, allusions to gendered familial roles, sfw. âŠč Run time. 1.3k âŠč Note. I have had such brainworms for this man since seeing him for the first time. I had to write something but didn't want to get too ahead of myself since we know nothing of him yet sooo I decided to start a new series of drabbles that will follow this plotline, reader, and Wriothesley. You can find it under the tag # flowers never bend and it will eventually be posted to my ao3 as a cohesive story <3
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Your sister beams as she gives your appearance another once over. It's the fifth time in the past ten minutes that she’s turned to you with scrutiny in her eyes, adjusting a strand of your hair or smoothing out the crisp neckline of your dress– you must be perfection. Today you’re meeting him, the man your parents sold you to when you were no more than six years old. He had been a boy then too and just as much of an unwilling participant in the whole affair as you had. Perhaps it was cruel to blame him for your misfortunes. At least the two of you had been given the courtesy of a meeting, a single chance to rectify the will of your parents before they made plans to force the two of you down the aisle.
The day after her eighteenth birthday, your older sister had been married. A gaggle of small children soon followed. They made quite the army of troublemakers but she continued to grow round with one every few years because they were just so cute when they were little. She fancied herself a matchmaker and believed that she knew everything there was to know when it came to matters of the heart. But, what did marriage have to do with the heart when it was nothing more than a political arrangement? Your father had made thousands of those in his lifetime and he’d do thousands more by the time by the time his earthly body was returned to the waves.
There was nothing special or romantic about standing in the middle of the lobby at the Hotel Debord being primped and preened over like a porcelain doll. The seafoam-coloured walls make the contents of your stomach curdle uncomfortably though your favourite gown as a child had once been spun off the very same shade. Today you wore pink taffeta topped off with a lace-trimmed neckline and a little white bow placed carefully at your décolletage. It as though your childhood bedroom threw up on your seamstress and out came this dress.
“Did you know that your fiancĂ© is a Duke?” your sister whispers as she ushers you over to one of the plush chairs, “That mean’s he comes from a very wealthy family, mhm, and is a very well respected man.”
The whale-boned corset beneath your dress keeps your spine straight as you sit and still your sister makes a point of pressing your shoulders back before taking her own seat, “Does he have a name?” You ask, placing one delicately gloved hand over the other.
A myriad of people file in and out of the hobby with what appears to be a purpose. You can’t but watch with curious eyes and the childish hope of discerning him from the crowd before he’s able to spot you. Like a flower, you’d wilt beneath his gaze and learn nothing more than the facade people like you and he were taught to wear like a second skin. Instead, you’re met with swishing skirts that ooze refinement and galloping pups in gaudy costumes. There is little to be gained from people watching carbon copies that chased the latest trends as if that would appease their archon.
“Wriothesley,” Your sister states as if the answer should be obvious to you.
The name hardly strikes a chord of recognition within you, you may have heard it in passing years ago but no new memories surface as you search for an inkling of familiarity. It was futile, your days within the court were limited as you much preferred the solace of your family's countryside estate. The quiet was nice. With no nightmare-inducing machinations to tower over you. The servants were friendly too and even with the tendrils of gossip that filled their quarters, they never seemed to judge you too harshly for having the privilege to shirk societal expectations.
“Does he have a surname?” Focusing your eyes on the ornate glass chandeliers that swing with each gentle breeze pushed in through the ever-revolving doors, you quell your growing need for some tangible information into a dismissive interest, “Or shall I just be known as the lady duke?”
Your sister's gaze is sharp as is how quickly she turns her head to face you, “Come now, you know it is inappropriate to make such comments,” She smiles at a passing stranger, and they smile back, “He is a good man, that much I know.”
Despite the sunny disposition that is quick to replace her annoyed expression, you can feel your sister’s ire simmering within her gaze. Light splinters from the artfully crafted crystalline chunks and dances along the slick tiled ground. The sight of it makes you dizzy but you enjoy the head rush as you settle your focus onto the reflective floor. A gloved and idle hand comes up to twirl the dangly earrings that weigh heavy on your lobes, smoothing your thumb against the drop pearl.
“How can you be certain that he is a good man if you do not even know his family’s name?”
It’s difficult to stifle the giggle that rises to your lips when she glares at you. You found in that moment that it was good she had not been blessed with a cryo vision because it would pale in comparison to the chill that settled over the table.
“If you were so curious perhaps you should have asked father,” she gritted out, “I am just here to ensure that you do not embarrass yourself in front of Wriothesley.”
“How kind of you dear sister,” you grin the way she hates, showing her all of your teeth, “Surely I could not know how to talk to a man at my advanced age of twenty-two without your steadfast guidance.”
“It is a wonder why Mother and father chose you for the duke and not I,” your sister muttered beneath her breath, hoping you did not hear her.
Green was an ugly shade on your sister but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. It was human nature and adults were far more like children than they liked to believe, coveting toys that didn’t belong to them.
Though, her ego would balloon to be ten times the size of her body should you ever dare to admit that you wished your parents had chosen her for their political gain and not you. You weren’t well suited for the things you supposed this Wriothesley would expect of you. Most days you spent more time with your nose buried in long-forgotten tomes than you did in etiquette lessons. Those were important, your mother once said, a man of such status had much social responsibility and as his wife, so would you. 
“What time did Father say we may expect his grace to grace us with his presence?”
If the two of you were at home, she might have snarled at you, “I do not find you amusing!”
A well-dressed man carrying a shiny silver platter approached the table. If he heard your bickering, he chose not to comment on it, “Your tea has arrived, ladies.”
“Sir, I fear you are mistaken” you stated, your voice growing timid as he began to unload the contents of the tray into your table, “We did not order any tea.”
“No, but he did.”
The “he” in question was an imposing man who hovered behind the waiter. Neither of you had noticed but your sister began to smile demure at him the moment she took notice of his presence. The first thing you noticed was the glinting silver handcuffs that hung off his belt like a warning and then the metal-clad fingerless gloves. The chains and chunks of alloy made the deep red tie he wore look silly and out of place but his keen, pale eyes made you shrink in your seat as they slid over your visage.
“May I present to you his grace, the Duke Wriothesley.”
Oh.
So this was the man your family intended for you to marry.
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© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.  
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cathchicken · 1 year ago
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My moomin ocs Nel and Nellie
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I’ve been doing a lot of diving into the Moomin verse lately, that franchise has always seemed so lovely to me but I’ve never really looked at it closer until now. It is so great! I wish I grew up with it, but alas I am an American and it makes sense I only found out about it’s existence a few years ago. I am in the process of watching the 90’s anime series at the moment, but I may also visit the “fuzzy felt” adaptation since that seems to be the most accurate. But I am reading the original books too so there’s that. Lots of ideas for Christmas! I want to say Snufkin is my favorite character so far, but
 Little My
. She’s a special little gremlin I love her
Also, naturally, Nellie and Nel are dinosaurs. Duh. Nellie is a velociraptor and Nel is a Microraptor.
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I will make proper moomin fanart soon though!! For all of you Moomin enthusiasts
 :3
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theyhavetakenovermylife · 9 months ago
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I am so happy you write for fast forward because so many people think it is stupid when it is one of my favorite seasons of the 2003 series. I was wondering if you could write for all the turtles or just one (the wheel of wow can choose) where the reader has a dark version of themselves. While the turtles are fighting dark!reader , dark!reader start to flirt with the turtle saying things like “I can understand why my other version has a crush on you” and “You should get with me, I am totally the stronger and more hotter one” The reader gets jealous and insecure because well
 dark!reader is hot and a great fighter. Maybe a confession or fluff at the end. I hope this wasn’t a confusing request. I am just a sucker for jealousy tropes. Thank you so much, love :)
Dark Version (Angst?/Fluff)
(FastForward!Michelangelo x reader (dark!reader)
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A/N: The wheel of WOW said Mikey! The wheel has spoken!😂 I’ve made a few changes in the dialog, but otherwise it's exactly the same🧡 Also, since it has been some time since my last writing, it is a little short, since I need to get back into my game. But I hope you’ll still enjoy🧡
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Warnings: Spelling🧡
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The moment you first met the kanabo version of yourself, you were shocked. Their shape and features was exactly like yours, except for the purple kanabo skin, the light eating black hair, sharp fingernails and teeth and red eyes. Just like the other kanabo clones, your dark counterpart matched your personality, yet with a dark twist. Instead of being a pleasant person with a warm presence that pulled people, your clone was all consuming and domineering. Her words sounded promising, and she was quick to make people trust her, just like you. Except, she would use that trust against whoever she had fooled, proving to have a wicked mind that was able to put all of the other clones to shame.
The original turtles saw this clone of yours as nothing but a bad imitation. Though she may have had an appearance that matched yours, she was nothing like you, their best friend, that had managed to get accidentally transported with them to the future of 2105. They did not like her. But no one disliked her more than you did.
From the day you had first met her, you had felt threatened by this new enemy of yours. Not just from her horrid intentions, but from the storm that she managed to rise within you. You did not like to admit it, but you were, to be quite honest, very jealous of her. There was just something about the way she carried herself. From the way her spine stood straight, the way she would lean on her hip, her full hair, and her smug smile. And her fear of absolutely nothing. To put it simple, your kanabo clone looked and acted like the hottest person on earth, and was not above saying sultry things, just to catch the turtles off guard. But that was nothing compared to the day, where she would rip the rug out from under your feet, sending your world crumbling down in embarrassment.
The kanabo clones had managed to catch you and the turtles off guard one night, backing you up in some far corner of a New New York City alley, leaving all of you with no other options than to fight your way out. Or the turtles fighting while they made you hide behind some dumpster, not allowing anything to happen to you.
You watched them from your hiding spot, seeing your kanabo clone lash out at Mikey with her long sharp nails, making you shriek as he dodged. She was about to pull back, ready to throw another launch at him. But Mikey, being the fast ninja turtle that he was, managed to catch both of her arms, making her struggle to get free. But of course, that was not enough to make your clone back down. It never was.
Your dark counterpart heard you shriek, seeing you hiding behind the dumpsters. She smirked, knowing damn well what you were feeling and thinking. She knew what you had been feeling and thinking for several years. Especially about the orange clad turtle that now held her wrists in an iron grip, with no intentions of letting her go. It was time to do what she did best; catch the turtles off guard. And this time she would not hold back, intending to bring you down in the fall.
“I see”, she smiled, stopping her fight to get out of Mikey’s iron grip. “It makes a lot of sense now”.
“What makes sense?”, Mikey asked, not able to hide his curiosity. Dude couldn’t hold his curiosity for anything, even if his life depended on it.
“Why my hiding counterpart over there has such a giant crush on you”, she smiled smugly, enjoying Mikey’s flustered expression. “You’re cute”.
And just like your dark counterpart had wanted it, Mikey pulled his hands from her wrist with an unsure look on his face, all while you felt the ground under you grumble into dust. There was no way she just told Mikey your biggest secret. You knew very well that she knew things of your past, sharing the same memories as you did, and using them to trick you and the turtles. But it had never once dawned on you, that she was aware of your biggest secret of several years - your crush on Mikey.
You kanabo counterpart smiled smugly, catching your eyes momentarily, before landing a hard blow on the side of Mikey’s chin, causing him to lose balance for a moment. That short moment was all you clone needed, before she made her way past Mikey, making her way towards your horrible hiding spot. Her red eyes glistened at you as she cracked her knuckles, not sparing a moment to see how the other clones were doing.
For a split second you managed to fear, shaking behind the dumpster, as you watched this kanabo imitation of you, taunted you with her steps. You had never been a good fighter, which was the reason why the turtles had made you hide behind a dumpster, instead of partaking in the fight. And she knew that. It was a fact she often brought up, in an attempt to pull your confidence apart, and now as she walked towards you, she glowed in the energy of your fear, somehow looking even more confident and attractive than before, letting your self esteem grumble and fall into the pit of your stomach.
Your dark counterpart got ready to launch at you, with the strength and speed Sh’Okanabo had given her. But before she could leap at you, she was harshly pulled back, an alarmed yelp sounding from her mouth, as Mikey threw her towards the other side of the alley, her back slamming into the wall with a groan, an angry fire burning in her eyes, before she escalated the fight with Mikey, with the other turtles soon coming to his rescue.
The alley battle continued, until the dark turtles had to pull your dark clone back, citing that keeping the fight up would only prove to be a disadvantage for them, especially with the sun rising within a short time. Reluctantly, your clone followed their lead, leaving the battle behind, but not before turning towards Mikey one last time, making sure you could hear and see her.
“If you get tired of her, you know very well where to find a better option”. That comment made your jaw drop, watching stunned as she left with the kanabo turtles, hurrying towards their hiding spots in the shadows. All your emotions were running high. You felt small, weak, insecure, now with the burning flame of jealousy in your stomach. But then, when Mikey turned your way, you felt embarrassment rush over you, your eyes falling to the ground, not ready to look him in the eyes, and admit to what you clone had let him know without your permission.
Mikey’s brothers, sensing the need for you and Mikey to talk alone, did just that - they left the alley, leaving you and Mikey alone back in the alley, while they slowly made their way back to the penthouse, hoping that this would be the time you and Mikey would come clean to each other.
For a long moment, there was silence between you and Mikey, with neither of you truly sure what to say. You played with your finger nails, while Mikey played with the handles on his tech nunchucks, now safely secured in his belt.
The silence between the two of you was loud. No sound, yet it was ear piercing, making your heart beat faster and faster, the palms of your hands growing sweaty due to nervousness. But then finally Mikey spoke up. You were surprised to find that he was wearing an almost proud smile on his lips, standing in the sunray that slowly made its way into the city.
“You really have a crush on me?”, he asked, still smiling bright.
You bite your lip, finding your embarrassment slowly turning into fluttering butterflies, flapping their wings around inside your stomach. “Yes”.
Mikey blew out a sharp breath of air in a chuckle, taking a few steps towards you. “How long?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe for a few years now”.
Mikey moved his foot round on the pavement, looking more and more pleased, unable to stand still. “So maybe the same time as my crush on you?”
You almost lost your breath, unable to think clearly for a moment, almost stumbling and falling in front of him. However Mikey was quick to catch you, holding your arms in his big three fingered hands. You looked each other in the eyes, realizing how close you were, leading to the two of you smiling and giggling.
“You have a crush on me too?”, you asked, still not really sure that you had understood him right.
“Of course I do”, Mikey said, as if it was obvious. “I mean, who couldn’t? Only an idiot!”
You giggled at this, letting Mikey pull you in close for a hug, both of you smiling from ear to ear, before taking the time to look at each other’s faces. It was here that Mikey leaned closer to you, waiting for you to reciprocate his actions, before your lips met in a sweet and tender kiss.
And there you stood, in each other’s arms, enjoying the feeling of your soft lips against each other, with the warm rising sun making all the dark shadows seem so far away.
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writing-frenzy · 1 year ago
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Isekai with the Kurosaki fam; now with some UraIchi spice
So, my brain has been dumping even more ideas for a fandom I can't write for, so I guess I'll dump all the ideas on the ground and sees what happens; also, partly inspired because of DevinePhoenix's Glass Body, Steal Wings and slightly be Cannon Ichigo in AU series by Williamcipher, especially the third of the series, because ye.
Anyways, so for me, I can never imagine Ichigo would part from his sisters and Goat-face easily, even in a normal au, because it's Ichigo's family, his friends, his lost, his life experiences that makes him who he is as a person; if he died and then transferred, a part of me wonders if he would ever try and get back home somehow. So my brain went-
Brain: hey, how about we have a thing that makes the entire family get into an accident :D
Brain: And, like, maybe a day before or when Ichigo was younger, he ended up saving a godly being's most beloved person, so the god is like; hey, I owe you, I'll reincarnate your family into my world; thing is, the world the god has is maybe connected in a way to an anime/webnovel/comic one of the girls or Ichigo's friends were reading, and Ichigo knows it because he was convinced to watch/read it as bonding.
It's a world of magic and fantasy, where words and names have power and things go bump in the night ever so easily. Ichigo and his Family find themselves in a cozy little hideaway, all confused but happy and relieved to be alive and with each other. Isshin in this au will be an awkward, not the best father but he loves and he tries, and he just wants the best for all of his children. (He is the unsarcastic B+ parent, because with all the shit in this au coming, Ichigo deserves this).
Isshin in their original world is descended from a sword wielding samurai family, and he's had the forms and everything beaten into him since he was young, and the reason why he never taught Ichigo was because he didn't know how to be a gentle teacher and he never wanted to hurt his boy. (it's why he's always given his children freedom and choice of what they want.) And coming into this new world, this new place, everyone can feel a change in their bodies, can feel power in their veins even if they don't know what to do with it. See, Ichigo's mom had a little something funky with her blood but didn't know it and Isshin is actually a human with spiritual powers but with their original world it never came out, and with the God giving them a boost/perks, everyone is learning how to control themselves first and foremost.
It's after a bit of convincing and Isshin making Ichigo promise to tell him if he's going too hard that he starts teaching him the family style, along with others in scrolls with phantom teachers to guide them along. It is rough, it is harsh, but it's Ichigo so he pushes on through and becomes better for it. (The two do agree to see if they can find better teachers for the girls though, as Karin wouldn't suit this style even if she would be good with a sword, and Yuzu seems like she would be better with magic then a blade.)
The family of four spends like three years here, learning all they can, devouring every book and all they can remember of the OG!Story of this place before they all have exhausted all the sources and knowledge of the cottage, can no longer progress in their skills as they have been, and had enough cabin fever to drive any sane person down the river. But they're not stupid, so first things first, Isshin scouting at first, then with his son, before him and Ichigo take turns exploring and scouting the area because they don't like leaving the twins alone. But as they're getting a lay of the land and comparing maps and such to reality, even getting a feel for their new magic gadgets and all, they come across monsters and such here and there Once Isshin is sure that Ichigo can handle himself, its only then they spilt so one can stay with the girls while the other explores for a few days, even if Ichigo is only allowed to do it for two days to his father's week.
After that, packing everything they need into magic bags and hammer space, the family takes one last look to their home of all these years, bows in thanks before they are off. It's not long till they join a trade caravan, Isshin trading his skills as a doctor to do so. They travel around for a bit, before in the end, they settle down in a bustling, safe city that never fell in the story, even if the story's protagonist and gang lives here with all their wacky and troubling hijinxs.
So, now that backstory and such is out of the way, let's get to some of the fun stuff. :3
Ichigo does not realize just how strong he actually is; see, in this world of magic and stuff, swords are... technically considered obsolete; of sure, in the story there is a Magic Swordman who is part of the Protagonist's party, but even there they mostly use the sword as fancy focus then to actually fight with it. But with the way Ichigo was trained, as well as both his and his father's lack of common sense for this world, for them it is as easy to cut down a monster as it is to cut down spells themselves. Neither Ichigo or Isshin understand how insane that is, because once a spell is out, you usually have to dodge it or hope it hits someone else if you can't counterspell it.
The Kurosaki's also avoid the Protag and his crew; lets not get involved in your drama, please and thank you (lol, just had the thought of how protective Isshin and Ichigo would get if the story was with a Harem Protag; both would be protective as heck over the twins because with either reverse or regular harem, girls usually get the shit end of the stick). Ichigo is just fine how he is, even if he keeps getting into fights because of random assholes, his charm flowing out and getting his own loyal friends without his knowing. Karin is way too interested in magical sports to care not to mention her age while Yuzu is getting fascinated by potions, alchemy, and cooking to care.
One day, after Ichigo has been feeding some tidbits to some strays, he finds what seems to be a tea and candy shop, with books to read. it doesn't have much business, being out of the way like it is, but there is the occasional regular coming out. Ichigo shrugs, he has time and so he enters this Urahara Shoten.
Somehow, someway, he ends up making friends with Geta-boshi, who as frustrating as he is, recommends good books and a listening ear. Things lead to one things, stuff happens, and Ichigo finds out this guy also has sword.
Sparring partner acquired, though it takes some convincing, a bit of bribing, but Ichigo is able to get the other to agree; he gets his ass beat easily, but Urahara is a harsh, but good teacher, and so Ichigo just thrives in the challenge.
As for Urahara, this guy is so fucking terrifying, just like in canon, how he is assassin sharp and quick with his blade even as he can spellcast at the same time, just watching Ichigo cut through his spells to meet his blade.
Kisuke: this is the most fun I've had in ages :D I wonder what else he can do if I don't tell him what's impossible.
These two end up getting involved in some harsh canon event disasters, Ichigo fighting with Kisuke, knowing the other man won't let him down. Kisuke, having someone he can trust lead the way, knowing, having faith the other can survive alongside him...
Just, these two bonding, getting closer, Ichigo introducing his sisters and Goat-Face who is giving that weird stare.
(On Isshin's part, he recognizes what's going on, and for all that he is not going to be a hypocrite, is not going to kick this Urahara guy as hard as he can and hide Ichigo away, he suddenly... completely understands Misaki's family's cold and hard stares as he had gotten, watching how the elder blond stares at his 20 year old son like he is sun, like he can't believe there is any light in his life again after being shadowed so long. He's pretty sure that is the same stare he had given Misaki as well, just as how Ichigo looks softer, warmer, happier the minute that Urahara guy stays by his side, just how his mother would melt around him despite her expression never changing.
So, Isshin won't say anything, especially since he can tell neither has a clue... but he will be doing the protective, embarrassing Father as much as he wants.)
So yeah, this is the idea :3 I also have another idea with a Mob Protagonist!Ichigo, where he comes to be a character never even mentioned in a story, and ends up charming local shop owner Urahara Kisuke, who is secretly the terrible, scary Puppet Master Benihime without knowing it. maybe I'll note it out when I feel like it, though if people want, they can ask questions about it.
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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 9 months ago
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Looking back at the older Saw movies, I’m wondering now if the series would have a better reputation if it had been treated more like an anthology. Because the two best movies in the franchise (1 and X) are the ones that could stand on their own, while the lower-tier ones are the ones that deal with the convoluted timeline.
I’m thinking something along the lines of Scream in which it’s the “same” villain, Jigsaw, but with different people in the role. There was a different Ghostface in every Scream movie, which worked for that franchise. Maybe Saw could’ve done it like that.
In fact, just off the top of my head, here’s how Saw could’ve looked as a semi-anthology:
Saw 1
* It’s the same
Saw 2
* It’s mostly the same, but John Kramer has to die at the end of it (he probably dies from Eric Matthews’ beatings). Saw 2 ends conclusively, as if this was the end of the franchise.
Saw 3
* Takes place two years later.
* Jeff and Lynn Denlon are the subjects.
* The story is centered around a copycat Jigsaw, who is revealed to be Amanda Young. Amanda secretly became John’s apprentice and has now taken his place.
* Amanda escapes at the end.
Saw 4
* Takes place simultaneously as 3.
* Daniel Rigg is the subject.
* Here, it’s revealed that Amanda was working with someone, meaning there were 2 copycat Jigsaws the whole time. The ending reveals that the 2nd copycat is Mark Hoffman, one of the lead detectives.
* Mark gets away and picks up Amanda, who has just left the game from the previous movie.
(NOTE: I want to emphasize that even though this takes place at the same time as 3, this movie is meant to be seen as a standalone. You don’t have to watch 3 to understand 4 is what I mean)
Saw 5
* Takes place a few weeks later, brings together the events of 3 and 4.
* Amanda and Hoffman put together a new game (the five-become-one teamwork trap) while trying to avoid the police.
* The movie ends with Hoffman betraying Amanda and shooting her dead, only for him to fall for one of Amanda’s booby traps (the closing walls trap that killed Strahm). So, 5 ends with Hoffman getting smushed as Amanda bleeds to death.
Saw 6
* Takes place a few years after 4 and 5.
* Detective Zeke Banks is the subject.
* A new Jigsaw copycat - also known as the Spiral Killer, to distinguish them from the other Jigsaws - pops up. The ending reveals that the new Jigsaw/Spiral is William Schenk, one of the detectives working the case.
* Schenk gets away with his crimes, setting up the 7th movie.
Saw 7
* A direct continuation of the 6th movie.
* William Easton is the subject, but has more of an involvement with Jigsaw/Schenk.
* Schenk dies at the end of it, but not before taking Easton down with him.
Saw 8
* Takes place a year after 6 and 7.
* The subjects are Bobby Dagen, his wife Jill Tuck-Dagen, and their family and friends.
* First twist: Just like the original series, Jill is revealed to be John’s ex-wife.
* Second twist: This Jigsaw is revealed to be Melissa Sing and that the reason why she’s testing Bobby, Jill, their family and their friends is vengeance for her husband’s death (Detective Steven Sing).
* Bobby and Jill survive while Melissa is arrested at the end.
Saw 9
* At least takes place several years after the 1st movie. The timeline isn’t as important for this one.
* Revealed that Dr. Gordon from the first movie did survive since John saved his life. Instead of asking him to become his apprentice, John allows him to return to his life. However, his life since surviving the bathroom trap has been horrible, leading him down a downward spiral.
* Main story: When Gordon learns his colleagues have been involved in a scam targeting the terminally ill, disgusted by their actions, he decides to put them through a series of brutal tests.
* Basically, in this alternate timeline, Gordon became a Jigsaw copycat through his own volition rather than John recruiting him.
* Gordon escapes at the end and decides to retire from the Jigsaw role.
Saw 10
* Takes place a few weeks after the 9th movie.
* Focuses on a manhunt for a Jigsaw copycat (assumed to be Gordon). It’s only at the end that we learn Gordon was in an entirely different state during the events of this movie.
* The new Jigsaw is revealed to be Logan Nelson, the coroner who appeared earlier in the movie. Since Melissa and Gordon were one-off Jigsaws, Logan is set up to be the new main Jigsaw.
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You can read the revised, semi-anthology timeline like this:
The John Kramer arc is 1 and 2
The Amanda and Hoffman arc is 3, 4, and 5
The Spiral Killer arc is 6 and 7
8 and 9 are standalone movies
10 is the beginning of the Logan Nelson arc
Even though the movies do lead into each other, the arcs are meant to stand on their own and the timeline is much less convoluted. Also, not everything ties back to John, which I feel would give the franchise more creative freedom.
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