Things from Wandee Goodday ep 3 I can't stop thinking about:
I love so much that we got some good friends with benefits tension around personal boundaries when Dee asked who Yei was and then backed off (but Yak told him anyway). And between the jokes about rimming, Dee demanding Yak pay more attention to his dick last episode, and starting this episode in the 69 position, I am very, very here for this show saying over and over that sex is not just one act.
[ID: Gif of the beginning of episode 3, whichi is a pan-to-shot of Dee and Yak laying in 69 position on the floor under blankets]
i loved the different responses to hearing someone you love is in a "Friends with Benefits" situation; Kao warned Dee not to catch feelings or read too much into the situation and Cher/Yei teased Yak for lying to himself about what the situation is. Both are super valid and speak to who Dee and Yak are, who Kao and Cher/Yei are, and all of their experiences with love. And it speaks to the closeness of these relationships too, that Cher noticed Yak's necklace gone immediately and Kao similarly clocked its addition on Dee instantly.
Super here for Kao being the ultimate support bestie at work, equal parts haranguing and backing Dee up. Their relationship is perfection.
I really liked Yak peace-ing out of their agreement when Dee dropped a huge request with no context, that was so valid and in the spirit of FWB (he didn't actually owe him a bigger conversation).
I've already reblogged a couple of other people (@negrowhat and @lurkingshan) talking about this so I won't belabour it, but I am judging Dee for not only ignoring Yak's boundaries by going to his workplace and forcing him to train him and then flirting with him during training sessions after Yak both made clear he's worried about being out at work and had ended their agreement. I hope we get more of an explanation for Yak's reticence about dating a man while aiming for the championship as well as his change of mind.
The conversations with Cher and Oyei have me so curious about their history! Tell me everything, show. I put these questions in tags on a gifset (but to put them on main: Where is Oyei and Yak's father (who is also a former champ but apparently uninvolved with this family business, if he's still alive)? What happened to Yak's mother that he doesn't know if he takes after her? Why can they go to Cher's family for financial help but not Yei/Yak's (to the point where they had to take out what sounds like a predatory loan during COVID)? What is Cher afraid of re: being seen being affectionate to Oyei, and where does that come from? Is this history related to why Yak is so worried about his relationship to Dee getting in the way of his championship? All of this is seeded so organically and I'm so, so curious. It also has me even more in my feelings about Cher and Yei calling Yak their son.
[ID: Gif of Yei saying to Cher: I own this place. What's there to be afraid of? From the set linked in the paragraph above]
[I have a clown theory that Cher and Oyei's relationship is why his dad is out of the picture and his gym is in financial trouble (because it prevented Yei from getting sponsorship despite being a champion), and why Yak is worried about being in a relationship with a man even though he knows his brother won't care...we'll see how much of this the show pulls together!]
The flash of trauma from Dee at the crosswalk was interesting too; where is that going? What happened in Dee's past and how is it going to affect the story in future?
[More clown speculation: Is it related to why Dee is so good with patients and passionate about ortho? Has he seen someone in his life become disabled due to physical injury?]
Speaking of, I really loved seeing Dee be good at his job and great with patients and their families. In addition to it being just nice to see and good for our understanding of his character, it sets him up to have a fighting chance in the contest too, since patients apparently get a vote.
I love love love the camaraderie and giggling between Dee and Yak around making Ter jealous and shoving their fake relationship in those gossiping nurses' faces. The way they are actually friends who like one another and enjoy spending time together is just really wonderful to watch.
My biggest question is: Will Dee get a chance in this narrative to show up for Yak the way Yak has been showing up for Dee? And how can that current imbalance be reconciled with this all leading towards Dee trying to get a placement to go abroad--and his self-stated toxic trait of always needing to win? [shoutout to @chicademartinica for laying that out succinctly in her post]
In the meantime, I'm having a blast.
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Regarding this post (https://www.tumblr.com/piratecaptainscaptainpirates/750832838350340096/okay-so-theres-one-thing-that-im-kind-of-tired), the racism of Stede having the crew members of color acting as servants was clear, but I always thought he did that because that's what Badminton and his officers would expect. If he had had everyone sit at the table, or even if he'd had the "servants" be both white and PoC, that would have given the ruse away. I saw it as Stede pulling off his first fuckery before he even knew what a fuckery was, and creating what he thought would appear to Badminton as "a bunch of upper crust lads trying their hand at the seafaring life". In other words, he was well aware that it was racist but asked his crew to go along with it so they could get Badminton and his officers off the ship as quickly as possible. Had Wellington not been such a blatant racist prick, they might have succeeded, but Jim was never gonna let that behavior slide. Quite right too.
Now, in S1E2, him and Pete thinking that the tribe were cooking and eating their hostages was incredibly racist and they absolutely deserved to be called out on that. But I never got the sense, even in those early episodes, that Stede treated his PoC crewmembers any differently or worse than he treated his white crewmembers. And especially with Olu and Jim, he valued their advice and counsel, and Olu had no issues speaking his mind to Stede, which to me meant that he never felt threatened by Stede or worried that Stede would abuse him or anyone else on the crew.
If I've misinterpreted Stede's actions, please let me know. I'm white, so I know I don't see a lot of the micro aggressions that you see every day, though I have been working on actively listening and learning.
Hey there! I don't disagree with any of your points here, but I think there are wrinkles!
Was Stede just falling back on the easiest option to allay suspicion? Absolutely! Was it still a racist move? You bet!
See, I think Stede's first fuckery is the "ghost of the forest" bit in s1e2, and this is more...him leaning back on established social hierarchy. He fails to think outside the box in a way that would allow all of his crew members to feel respected. Think about how Frenchie gets himself and Olu onto the party boat - by thinking up a creative story. Stede thought up backstories for his white crew. His crew members of color could have been African royalty, rich benefactors, envoys from distant lands...the possibilities of avoiding suspicion are endless, and they could've even used these exoticizing tropes their guests were unlikely to see through as a way to boost the Revenge's apparent prestige for their guests.
The important thing to remember here, I think, is that Stede's plan in the pilot fails not in spite of the racism of it but because of that. If their guests had known that it would be not only inappropriate but a social faux-pas to insult the crew members of color, then there never would have been a need to fight back against an escalation in racist language.
And I don't disagree that Stede doesn't treat his crew members of color differently! My point is rather that his racist biases are an important facet of his general ignorance of the lived experiences of others - like, he genuinely doesn't really get that most people are pirates because they have no other choice (there's a huge racial component there, no coincidence we hear it from Olu), he doesn't realize most of his crew will be illiterate, he fails to account for the differences in lived experiences he's enjoyed thanks to his relaive privilege. In these early episodes, he talks at the crew, not with them.
I love Stede and his journey so so so much! And every time I rewatch the show I love seeing all these ways that he's grown and learned.
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Stiles Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski are such an interesting dynamic. Only one person commented on the fact that they wanted to hear about this, but that’s permission to me, so yall have to suffer with me. It’s been awhile since I’ve watched teen wolf so my take may be off, please no hate but I’m open to discussion.
Claudia Stilinski is such an interesting character to me. We know virtually nothing about except how she, especially her death and the way she died affects the Stiles and the sheriff.
Stiles watched her die, the sheriff didn’t. Stiles stayed beside her, the sheriff was at work. Both undergo guilt because of this. This is the exact moment when stiles has to grow up - it fundamentally changed who stiles is as a character, it also defines him in certain moment. To me both characters try and keep their connect to Claudia in anyway they can. This is made apparent with the jeep. That’s Claudia car, stiles refuses to leave it even though it’s unreliable. This could reflect stiles relationship or his idea of his relationship with his mother is unreliable. The sheriff connects to his wife via stiles. Stiles real name - his mother gave it to him, he had the nickname mischief but changed to stiles, I wonder why?? Maybe after his mother died. But they can’t in the end, they can’t let go over her but they can’t hold onto her.
Stiles has a lot of trauma response from this moment. He pretends he’s fine even when he’s not, this is a learned response. He obsessively takes care of his dad, wanting to hold onto the last parent in his life. It also feels like a way to hold onto his mother via taking care of his dad. Literally every way that that stiles acts after his mom’s death is becuase of her death. The way that he loves people after his moms death is an effect of the last months of his mothers life and her death. He cares to a point of obsession (one of the reason I ship sterek, I think they’d balance each other out or just be able to understand each other darkness)
His mother’s disease would have taken precedents over everything else. And even after she died, his fathers feeling would have been more important. The Stilinski’s don’t talk about their feelings, they don’t talk about the times when they hurt each other. It’s almost like they can’t, that there is a disconnect. To me this says that Claudia was the emotional support for both of the Stilinski’s men. Don’t get me wrong, this is not hate on the sheriff. He does try to connect to stiles - they do talk each other about other things in their lives.
In a way I can understand Stiles. My father is a cop. The change in shifts and odd hours would mean that sometimes I wouldn’t see my father for days. Add on the fact that He is the Sheriff, whom the show makes it clear take extra shifts - stiles would be alone a lot. To me this means that his mother was his main source of paternal affection. This was further cemented for me when stiles tells his father “mom would have believed me”
When she dies it almost makes it seem that his care was transferred onto Scott. In most cases this would make Melissa a surrogate mother but in the show it doesn’t feel like that to me. Stiles is extremely independent, when his dad was away at work he would take care of his mother, even after her assaulting him. This would fundamentally change the way he interacts with adults, parents, specifically mothers. So I don’t see him grasping onto Melissa as a mother figure.
But also the way he interacts with Melissa, on one hand he’s almost her equal. He takes care of Scott almost as much as Melissa herself does. In a way their interactions feel like two parents talking to each other. On the other hand, it is clear that Melissa take care of him like he’s her son. But to me the only time when stiles reacts to her authority is when she’s mad, sometimes not even than. And the one time when he’s been possessed he calls her mom.
But also it’s made clear that the Stilinski’s don’t talk about Claudia - like at all. In the first season when the sheriff is drunk he says “I miss your mother”. The absolute shock on stiles face when he says that is so visceral. Claudia lingers over the household, not in a way that is a happy memory. she haunts it. After she dies stiles takes her place. The whole scene “how can I take care of you if I don’t know everything about you / I’m the dad, your the son” Stiles takes care of his dad obsessively, in a way that upsets the the balance of a child/parent relationship.
This is further made clear with the hints that the sheriff got major drunk after Claudia died. And that he threw himself into work once he got sober. Stiles effectively took over the household, putting him in the roles of his mother. We also see how the sheriff reacts to this because Stiles plays both the role of his wife and his son, not reaching the expectation for either. Stiles can never be his mother and yet he is her carbon copy. He wants to be her but all doesn’t at all. This dichotomy between the idea of stiles and the idea of Claudia means that she will always be present in the home. The first parent you will see in stiles face is Claudia. She haunts the narrative via her ghost but also via Stiles.
Especially in season three with the nogitsune, especially when it tricked everyone into believing that he’s dieing the same way his mother did. This is the final act of stiles becoming Claudia. The ghost of his mother has never been as prevalent but in this moment. You cannot tell me that his didn’t absolutely destroy the Stilinski households for months, even after they figured out that it was just a trick. To me this was one of the worst tricks played on stiles, because besides losing his friend this is what caused the Most devastation to him and his father. When he gets the MRI done this is when we see the change between stiles and the nogitsune. The demon has enough power to take over even for a few seconds because of this.
Being his mom especially in this connection is what devastates stiles the most. The nogitsune was in stiles head, he knows what would hurt him the most and what stiles fears the most.
Idk this is just my opinion and take.
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hiiii can you do fanfic where reader tells Tom that she’s pregnant and Tom would probably freak out and not that he would not want the child or something he just didn’t expected that and reader would get a little sad about it but it will need that Tom would be actually happy you don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable and i love your fanfics so much
YUH OFC ILY EMA
sorry this took so long to come out
I was freaking out, the test in my hands read back positive. Me and Tom did want a child yes, but this soon? We hadn't even talked about names or gender.
I was scared to tell him, what if he ran off? Left me and our child together? I didn't want to be a single parent, no way I'd let my child not know their father.
I took a deep breath, walking into the lounge room where Tom was, the test in my jean pocket. He turned around and looked up at me, his eyes lighting up at the sight of me, "my god, you're glowing baby, you're so beautiful" he smirked, standing up and holding my waist gently.
"Thanks honey..I..have something to talk to you about though," I lowered my head, heart thumping in my chest. "Oh, of course, come sit," he grabbed my hand, guiding me to the couch.
"Uhh..fuck.." I sighed, pulling out the test and showing it to him, "i'm pregnant.." his eyes widened, breath hitching. I cursed myself in my head, knowing this would happen, he was going to leave me.
"Tom..?" I said softly, placing the test down, his eyes still wide, mouth slightly agape. "Fuck..uh.." his voice was shaky, obviously unable to process what I just presented him with. We were only 25, people our age were still partying and having fun but here we were, pregnant with our first child.
"Tom please say something, you're freaking me the fuck out," tears started to well up in my eyes, threatening to spill out. He obviously caught onto this, reaching out and grabbing my hand, "hey baby no..don't cry honey no" he frowned. The tears just bursted out, I started to sob, the hormones already taking over me.
"Oh baby..no come here," he sighed, pulling me closer and rubbing my back softly, kissing the top of my head, "do you want to leave me? Why weren't you saying anything?" I continued to cry, my tears soaking up his shirt.
"No, I would never want to leave you honey, I'm just shocked that's all.." he lifted my chin, making me look up at him, "i'm scared Tom.." my lip quivered, mascara smudged all over my face.
"I know baby, but I'll take care of you and our baby, I'll make sure you have the best pregnancy ever," he smiled softly, kissing my lips gently.
I knew he was going to be a good father, he just had that instinct. Once a child was on the road, playing with his toys. I could tell Tom was distracted, just staring at the kid, making sure nothing bad was gonna happen.
Then a car came speeding down the roads, he immediately jumped into action, racing towards the child and grabbing him, pulling him off to the side and watching as his toys got run over.
The mother rushed out and thanked Tom, comforting the little boy who's toys were destroyed, I just looked at him with pure love in my eyes, so grateful to have such a wonderful man.
"How many weeks are you, does it say?" Tom rubbed my stomach, a little bump forming. "The test said 6 weeks, I knew something was wrong when every morning I felt super nauseous and my breast were super tender.." I sighed, "they still are and I get cramps" I whined, holding onto him tightly.
"Should I take time off work for you? Is it too early?" I chuckled at his efforts, "I'll tell you when you should stay home with me, ok?" I patted his cheek, he nodded and smirked, kissing me sweetly.
"I did notice you were super tired and you'd get up and pee all the time," he chuckled, I smiled in response, "yeah, apparently this trimester is the worst one, I can't wait for it to get to the second" I groaned.
"Yeah, well I'll be here every step of the way, we'll book some appointments for a midwife and I'll tell the band to not tour for this year," he caressed my waist softly, reassuring me that everything would be ok.
tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @kaulitzsbabyy @ballhair @miyukafujii @charliesgoodboy @tomsonlyslut @bkaulitzlover @ge-billsgf @estxkios
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Romeo, Romeo...
I am now living in a post Romeo & Juliet world. It might well be the only time I get to see it, but honestly what I saw on Saturday is going to stay with me forever. I wanted to put it down into words - my review of this play.
The first part of the experience is the music. We were in the bar and this repetitive rumble sound played over the tannoy, signalling that we were being called to Verona. We took our seats and we waited, all while more and more haze appeared across the sparsely-set stage and the music bore deep into my soul, gnarling and industrial, giving a sense of dystopian doom and foreboding. By the time the lights went out and the video screen showed 1597 in bright red lettering, I was already feeling a nervous nausea and an elevated heart rate.
This play is asking you to pretend, as much as they are. There is no set. There are no props. The actors stand like statues, dotted around, sometimes deep into the back of the stage as if ghostly apparitions. Sometimes the actors talk freely, other times they take their place behind mic stands as if part of a debating society. What happens on stage is coupled with video footage of other actors scattered around the bowels of the theatre, in the narrow backstage corridors, or even the theatre bar (and, of course, the roof). The fourth-wall breaks that often punctuate the end of these short video pieces eally pierce into your soul, looming over you, much like the mood of this whole production.
An example - as Mercutio lay dying, the camera is right in his face so you get the full pain and rage of him as he screams "a plague upon both your houses" and takes his final breaths. All the while, Romeo stands metres away, covered in blood, seething with unbridled rage, tears mixing with the blood of his friend.
The interval moment that follows literally made everyone gasp, a jumpscare that absolutely warrants the gravity of the moment. I won't say more because if there's even a 0.1% chance of you seeing it I don't want it ruined.
The second act of this play is decidedly quieter than the first. Clandestine conversations, whispers between characters, the comedy, gone. The deaths of Thibault and Mercutio loom large as the reality of the consequences kick in. Juliet remains defiant to the last - this is a Juliet who really knows what she wants (supported by Nurse, who is more like an older sister character full of kindness and friendly age-appropriate advice). As the end draws near, and the inevitability of what's about to happen (let's face it, we've all studied it at school, we know what happens!) becomes apparent, the silence in the theatre speaks volumes.
This production challenges you to see the traditional story through a far darker lens, and the blank spaces leave room for the oppressive mood and music to thrive and grow. It asks you to find answers in the quiet as much as the loud. It might be the best known love story of all time but the added weight of the staging proves everything hangs on the final line: "For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo."
Now. Acting. And oh boy was there acting. I'm going to start with Mercutio (Joshua-Alexander Williams) and Paris (Daniel Quinn-Toye) - two actors who are in their first professional production. What pressure, and how they dealt with it. Particularly Joshua-Alexander! I thought Tomiwa Edun, who played Capulet, Juliet's father, was immense - so sinister in his delivery, he had me convinced he was head of a family and of a gang empire. And Freema Agyeman as Nurse was wonderful, as I said earlier, giving this big sister energy and providing delighful lighter moments against the shade. HUGE mention to Nima Taleghani who not only was an excellent Benvolio but also edited the original text to make it a 1hr 45 version that was powerful and punchy.
Now, our main stars. Francesca Amewudah-Rivers as Juliet was incredible. She was headstrong, she was poised, she was dynamic and still at the same time. She portrayed a Juliet desperate to be free from the confines of her family, but clear that she knew what she wanted from the love (and escape) she sought. The second act belonged to her, her stillness lingering.
And the reason I fought for a ticket, Tom Holland. I've seen him at film premieres and press events, and twice playing golf, but the opportunity to see him do what (as fans) we all know to be his true calling, was irresistible. And oh my God. Honestly I was blown away by his portrayal. Brooding, emotional, at times so quiet you had to strain to hear his lament. And then rage, euphoria, shyness, a fumbling lovesick idiot. Throughout the production he provides so much range, but also so much depth, it's impossible not to feel everything he does.
To see him, clearly in his element, providing a soul to Romeo that I've never felt before - I couldn't be prouder as a fan. For too long he has been tarred with the brush that he is not a "serious actor". As fans we know that The Devil all the Time, Cherry, and The Crowded Room are proof otherwise. This should be the moment the world realises he is INCREDIBLE, to be taken seriously, to be given the respect he is long overdue.
I wish beyond words that I get to see this play again. I hope at the very least it gets an NT live screening so that fans around the world get to witness this amazing, unique, innovative production.
Violent delights indeed have violent ends.
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𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
08. rumour mill
🌼warnings: wonwoo is sick, you almost burn down the house!
🌼 word count: ~2k
Wonwoo
The story has changed. Now it's a tale about how he's been in love with you for a while and that you got together after the car accident.
Miss Hwang and all the members of the chat group have spiraled the rumours out of control, and he feels... awkward, to say the least. The villagers don't whisper very conspicuously when you walk past, and sometimes when you see him going about town on his part-time jobs, fixing people's sinks and building them new shelves, you say hi and end it there to stop the rumour mill.
Wonwoo knows it too, because he's now decided to keep his chats slightly shorter before excusing himself. Which is why he's currently standing outside Grandma Lee's house quietly, watching as Park Chanyeol chats you up.
"This house is gorgeous," He hears Chanyeol enthuse. "The traditional feel, you know -- and with that yard! Nostalgic, and it would look insane on the show thumbnail--"
As Chanyeol yaps on about the 180-degree rule and the height of the boom mics he plans to use, Wonwoo stifles a yawn behind his palm. Not understanding any bit of film lingo is so boring, and he doesn't know how you haven't already dozed off. Well, perks of the very person being your longtime crush, he supposes.
Actually he's not sure why he thought of that.
Anyway, he skips over that part, he has work to do. He's promised to get a tarp for Chanyeol, set up accommodation, and ensure the film crew doesn't end up homeless for the next few weeks.
He walks off, but he glances back.
Park Chanyeol really is very noisy.
Wonwoo
Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous.
Delia hasn't seen much of you after work. Seungkwan and Joshua haven't seen you either, except at the weekend cleaning when you're on sweeping duty, and sometimes at village meetings when you ask them if the apples you bought are of good enough quality. He watches as Joshua explains how to tell the difference between good apples and mediocre ones.
He hasn't seen you much either. He hasn't seen you come into the coffee shop for your daily coffee run on the way to the clinic, or walking around with Delia near the lighthouse that he knows you sometimes do around 9pm.
If he wanted to guess (which he doesn't, honestly), you were probably at the team dinners which Chanyeol is apparently very generous with, or with the producer himself, hanging out at a streetside stall or something. Which is ridiculous, because with the amount you could drink, he knew you were probably not one to turn down a party when you weren't being stiff and awkward.
Which was also ridiculous in itself, because--
Wonwoo stops himself. Everything about you is ridiculous. Everything he's feeling and thinking is absolutely bat-shit crazy.
Wonwoo's never been a crazy person. He's always been perfectly rational and cheerful, a nothing-can-get-me-down kind of guy.
He is.
That night, he makes sure to completely fill up his days ahead. Back to back. And no going to the clinic.
You
"Ah, I forgot my umbrella is with Delia," You mutter as the first heavy drops of the storm start to pelt down. "I just ordered this top -- agh---"
You decide to just make a run for it when the redness of the night sky indicates that the rain won't stop anytime soon. At least, you aren't driving this time around.
"Wait! Y/N!"
"Chanyeol?"
"What're you doing out -- you hate the rain. Get under here."
"Uh... thanks! It's late, shouldn't you get ready for filming in a couple days?"
"Last-minute checks on Grandma's house to make sure all's good." He grins. "But it's good that the weather is cooling a bit. Easier for us to film."
He shelters you with the umbrella as he takes you to your door.
"Oh, you're back -- hey, Producer." Wonwoo's leaning against the wall near your door, with no umbrella, and water starting to drip off his backpack.
"Chief Jeon!" You call over the sound of the rain as you near him. "Get under here, you told me you're more prone to colds --"
"It's okay," Wonwoo refuses, his face changing a little bit as he looks at you two. "I just wanted to drop this off." He ducks his head under the umbrella and hands you a brown paper bag which you accept, absolutely bewildered.
"What's this?"
"Fruits!" He has to raise his voice to be heard over the rain now. "Grandma Lee said to pass you some clementines since she said you liked them during the village meeting."
"Oh!" You lean in to take a look, but look up to shoot him a stern gaze. "Why'd you stay in the rain? You'll fall sick."
He snickers. "It's just a little rain. I have to patrol the roads up ahead to make sure all's good anyway. The rain here gets bad, and we can't have any more accidents happening."
"Wait!" Chanyeol calls as Wonwoo makes to leave. "I can go with you, we can share the umbrella. Don't fall sick trying to work so hard, Chief. Y/N, can you go on in--"
"Yeah, of course, don't worry about me -- Wonwoo, go with him, you'll be sheltered at least--"
"Hey," Wonwoo interjects, a half-smile appearing on his face. "Thanks for asking. I'll be fine, really. Producer, get Miss Doctor safely in the house, okay?" He raises his hand in farewell and darts off before you can say anything else.
"Chief Jeon--"
You look up the way he's going, a frown on your face.
"Happy first day of filming," You smile slightly as Chanyeol startles and turns to face you, his signature grin on full display.
"Hey there, thanks!" He says happily. "You'll stick around for the day?"
"Can't," You grimace. "I have work. But let me know how it goes, yeah?"
"Sure!" he waves. "Have a good day. Right I was about to ask, do you, by chance, want to --"
A loud cough and a clear of the throat interrupts and you both turn. It's Wonwoo trudging in your direction. Well, if the man underneath a pale complexion and eye bags is Wonwoo, at least.
"Damn, Chief Jeon," Chanyeol gapes. "Are you...good?"
"Splendid. The weather's good," Wonwoo replies, trying to nod but slowing it down, no doubt because of his throbbing head.
You march to him and press your hand on his forehead. "Hey. You're burning up!"
"Shhh, softer." He mutters. "My head hurts."
"Hey, man, take a day off," Chanyeol says, clearly distressed that his newfound right-hand man is ill. "We can deal with stuff over here. Uh, I can't send you home, but--"
"I can." You sling his arm over your shoulder, clicking your tongue as Wonwoo grumbles no. "No complaints. House call. We'll get going, Chanyeol."
"Yeah-- yeah!" Chanyeol pats Wonwoo on the shoulder. "Rest. Get well soon, okay?"
Wonwoo mutters something intelligible in response as you try to heave him away as gently as possible. The villagers are already staring, but it's the last thing on your mind.
"Hey, Chief Jeon?" You ask cautiously as you move. "Can you tell me roughly how to get to your house?"
His voice is all droopy and quiet, but you make out a few vague directions of "You're insufferable... left, up...ahead, and to the right..."
After the trip to his house takes double the time it usually would, given that he's already shaky on his own two legs and you have to move slowly, you try your best to tuck him entirely onto his sofa and look around for a comforter.
As you take his temperature, you survey his house. It's the first time you've ever been in his home, and it's the stark opposite of yours: the books are neatly shelved, his belongings exactly where they should be. There's a cozy, worn feeling to it like it's been lived in for a long time. Photo frames decorate the shelves, with books and small decorations, seemingly made of wood, arranged neatly.
You hear a groan, and you turn to see Wonwoo wincing as he tries to sit up. You sigh. "Don't get up. You took meds or ate today?"
"No," He grumbles, clearly put out by his current situation.
"Right, okay," You reply. "Can Mrs Woo send porridge over, or should I go buy some from her?"
"No chance," He mumbles, still trying to detangle his feet from the comforter you threw over him. "Jiwoo has a school play, she shut up shop for the day to see it."
You pause for a moment. "Okay...you've got rice in here?"
"Yeah....why..?"
"I'll make you something to eat with your meds. Back to sleep. Give me a while."
He sighs. "Don't bother. It's fine. I'll eat later with my meds. Off you go, shoo."
"Doctor's orders," You retort, and he groans in frustration, which almost makes you chuckle. "Rice is in the second drawer. Please don't burn my house down."
You almost (?) don't make edible porridge.
In your defence, the pot was small and the fire on the stove wasn't supposed to be that big. You're not sure if rice can be burnt, and can only hope that the salt and sauces you put in there at least salvage it a little.
Wonwoo is completely knocked out when you reach the living room, and you decide not to wake him up since he clearly needs the rest. You tuck the comforter under his chin again and get a tray of porridge ready, along with the meds you find.
After you put it on the table, you scribble a note and stick it to the table, and then turn to look at him.
He looks....cute. His hair is ruffled, his face soft in slumber, and he looks peaceful and undisturbed.
You sigh. "So you are a little cute when you have to be, huh?"
You lean over and brush the hair out of his eyes, and he lets out a soft sound and leans into your touch, like a cat.
Quietly, you stroke his hair, and after a few moments, he seems satisfied and stills again, evidently falling back into deep sleep.
A small pang comes to your heart, because he seems so small, curled up on his couch and sleeping off his fever.
Before you know what you're doing, you lean over and kiss his forehead.
And you then proceed to grab your things and run out of the house, in utter shock.
Fuck.
You just kissed Jeon Wonwoo.
Wonwoo
When he stirs, the house is quiet.
Wonwoo gets out of his comforter, yawning and massaging his neck from the awkward position he just came out of.
He spots the tray on the table, and he chuckles before reaching for the bowl. "She really did make food."
He spoons some out and takes a bite. "Oh, wow."
Then swallows it and muses, "How do you mess porridge up so badly?"
He picks up the Post-it note. "Eat it and then have your meds. Get well soon and don't skip meals. Call if you need anything."
Despite his drowsiness and the horrendous porridge, he finds it in him to smile.
Well, he thinks later as he stands to bring his empty bowl to the kitchen, at least you washed the dishes.
BONUS
"The clementines are fresh today," Grandma Lee tells him. "You take some home, got it?"
"Ah, got it, Grandma," Wonwoo says, before grinning at her. "Save more for yourself. I can always get more later."
She smiles back at him. "Don't forget to get more, then. They go stale really quickly. Right. That reminds me, I should ask Y/N to get some. She liked them during the village meeting, right?"
Wonwoo feels a little more alert at the mention of you. "Hm? Did she?"
"Yeah," Grandma Lee says. "Hm, maybe I should bring a bag to her house? She's busy nowadays."
"Ah, I'll do it," Wonwoo says, helping to pick some out and pack them. "It's tiring to make the trip, I've got it covered."
Grandma Lee beams at him in thanks, and Wonwoo applauds himself for seeming normal enough.
It's not like he's there to do anything more than be a friend anyway. It's not like he's going to have a chat with you, make sure you're not too busy with that noisy producer.
Definitely not.
🌼 summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.
🌼 pairing: wonwoo x reader fic (written, fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired)
🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart
ch.08: rumour mill
prev. masterlist. next.
🌼 taglist: @gaslysainz @lev1hei1chou @mingycr
writer's note: ok so i was originally planning to make her mad about the rumours BUT 👆 i decided that it wouldn't fit in anymore since number one: she's getting along better with wonwoo and everyone else, and number two: it's high time she had a bit of character development cos there is a fine line between being snappish and being an ass! thank you for readinggg~
btw i love chanyeol and everything exo too and i just felt chanyeol was perfect for the golden retriever film producer role :"
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winning arguments without crying
Three years ago I liked you and now I think you’re hideous
That’s really all it is.
Crumbling stone above your sink in a houseshare bathroom that feels like an aeroplane toilet.
A corona of snakes that couldn’t be saved by a beautiful tragedy.
You have to train them, you see
To bite beautifully and in a tragic sort of way
A literary way
You can’t just wash your red hair and let it dry like that.
I would know.
Mine are revered
and I think people are afraid of them
but in a beautiful sort of way.
That’s another story that I’m trying to write
and I wish I could block you from the pages like I’ll block you on Instagram.
I think you’re hideous
A gradual
and then very sudden descent into a cramping hatred like the way you think hot weather is just fantastic and I think the sun is fucking obnoxious
Like you
A loudly epic microcosm
A study in how to learn to hate a stranger measured by unprecedented times and a handful of afternoons eating
blue cheese and crackers on London grass waiting for the time to pass
If nobody likes you and everybody likes me then does that make me awful too?
or does it just mean I’m right
You glittered like a mirror for a morning
our sisterly reflections in mourning
A summer snapshot from the lens I’m still in charge of
Now you’re a black hole or something worse probably
an empty shell pretending to be a whole person.
Boring boring boring
Everything about you is boring
I’m bored with how boring I find you
This poem is boring.
It’s boring to talk about you but I can’t stop
none of us can stop
we’re all awful.
You were a mirror and isn’t that funny considering how much you fucking love looking at yourself now
Is this fucking play about us?
as long as it’s all focused on you
Tell us to knock the f-stop back as far as we can until it’s just
The You Show
again
but you’ll say you hate the lens I’m standing behind.
Apparently it’s all so condescending of me but I think you just don’t understand what that word means and what you actually mean is I’m older than you and know how to win arguments?
What you actually mean is I can fight without shaking and my face doesn’t turn red when I’m angry?
and I’ve always thought that a very lucky trait to have
I think I probably got that from my dad
although he doesn’t really get angry.
I think you should write a poem about what you got from your dad
But you’ll never do that even if
it’s the easy pick to the door you say someone else bolted you behind screaming.
I unpicked mine when I was twenty and I’ll always shoot if someone slags off my closet
And you think you’re the gunmaster here
But that’s a totally separate conversation and I can’t be bothered having it with you so can we just move on
because you’re too narrow to get that.
The most caring person in the world until empathy starts unearthing your enemies
As if you don’t already have a thousand.
And none of it feels important anymore
so I’m embarrassed that I even care
but it’s not a caring sort of caring.
If you’re compelled by right and wrong I’m compelled by love and hate
I think that’s my coin and one day soon I’ll stop spending it on you
But for now I’m solvent
Even if I’m letting you steal from me
and your steel city state is richer than my ancient woodland but your vaults are beneath iron girders of fantastic and thanks so much and so it becomes a girlish and quietly-biting sort of coin that burns lips and makes everything taste like copper
mine is just a mist
and then you accuse me of being non-confrontational when actually I’ve always quite liked confrontation.
It’s something I’m good at
and yet you keep trying and honestly I find that mortifying
But you’re a child so I don’t even care.
Maybe I should swaddle you but you said you're wise beyond your years so I guess let’s go with that?
And if everyone hates you and nobody hates me then maybe you should go back to your mirror and look there
instead of at your front-facing camera
because that’s mortifying too
and you should’ve gone to university because you would’ve met other mirrors there
And at least I know I’m a bitch
I met my mirrors ages ago.
But you run from reflection and choose your front-facing camera instead
because it does that thing where it flips the image and you get to pretend that you’re the opposite thing to the thing you actually are
and you get to tell yourself that you’re so tiny
and the world is the Big Bad pecking at your nest.
But you’re the awful thing
And everything is backwards
And everything is mirrored to you
And if I saw myself in you then send me the invoice and finish your email with
thanks so much
for teaching me how to be something else because honestly if I became what you already are I think I’d just die
I can see you rolling your eyes on the playground because someone else was enjoying the swings but in a stupid way
and the tarmac was hotter in Germany but that doesn’t make you more interesting.
God I wish I could tell you that.
I told you once that sometimes I pretend I’m on Graham Norton when I’m in the car
I thought everyone did that but apparently they don’t
But that’s fine I think and you didn’t need to laugh about it with your fiancée
But she's left you too and I found that funny
So let’s call it even.
I dive headfirst into the oil
when it comes to you because it feels so hotly delicious
To nestle in the anonymous ranks of whatever armies you think you did nothing to provoke
You’ve got spears for crutches but your armour is accountancy note paper
With lecture notes too boring to comprehend
I don’t think you’re actually interested in investment risk and taxation or fraud analytics
Is anyone?
It’s just something else to put on your brown sash
and on your HER profile.
Tell them about how you’re on every battlefield and I’m just softly at home writing a stupid poem about you
And if you’re reading this now because you keep tabs on everyone
and everything
and if you were waiting for me
Don’t flatter yourself.
This isn’t about you.
Because I already don’t remember how old you are
but I think you get a notification when I post an Instagram story of myself as a child.
I have a pitchy black well of everything that you don’t have
and I throw myself into it and you screw your face up lime-sour when actually I think you’d love to build one for yourself
but you can’t stop looking at your Instagram followers for long enough to work out
How to cast bricks or divine water or whatever else you need to build a well
You don’t even have the land for it yet.
I’d rather write a stupid poem than be your blank piece of paper
I’d rather write myself as a villain than play your antagonist
Write me out of your boring story
I’m begging you.
It’s been a year and you’re still looking up how to spell my name
Between notes about investment management and derivatives
And I don’t even know what that means
Thank God.
God it’s so boring
But I’m laughing at the idea of one day forgetting your name.
I can be rotten but I think the thing that saves you from Hell is the welcoming of the rot
and if I can be this but also sleep with my friends and love my American cereal and the little squares of sun my mirrorballs cast to my blue walls
Then what does it matter
I don’t think it matters.
But you can’t be told about any of that
Because you’re too busy romancing your front-facing camera and
one-hundred-and-thirty-three people in fluorescent ceiling panels who won’t ever clap at a volume that fills you
So I’ll leave you waiting for your lean applause
And I’ll just be lighter.
I watched a video today of my niece on a ride-on lawnmower
Grinning with my dad in the field behind our house
and that was me twenty-two years ago.
God I love that I can love.
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