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#but i am so behind on these asks 0_0
sungbeam · 1 year
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nonidol!lee hyunjae x fem!reader
your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him!
▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, fluff, angst, comedy/humor, swearing, college au, pining, hyunyn r kinda franchise movie buffs, shirtless hyunjae......, slow burn-ish lol, if ur a theater kid i am so sorry, stress and academic pressures, mentions of a bitter ex-friendship and ex-relationship, sabotaging and low-key terrorizing by an ex-friend, kissing, insecurity, lots of jargon i looked up and hope i'm using correctly, massive leaps in time and multiple chapters that span one day 💀, denial is a river in egypt so ig hyunjae's in egypt
▷ total wc. 30.9k (i actually overshot this one r we surprised 0_0)
this is the fourth installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to other fics, and all prev and future yns will be referred to as __!yn !! i do recommend reading at least one of the prior storylines ;')
a/n: mmmmmmmmmm idk what to say but have fun bye!!! AND REBLOG FOR GOD'S SAKE REBLOG PLEASE—
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EPISODE ONE (PILOT): ONE ON ONE
“HAVE you always wanted to be a playwright?”
The question caught you off guard as you glanced up from your tablet screen, the white blue-light contrasting sharply against the warm amber radiating from the small, battery-operated lamp seated on the plastic folding table. There were a couple of technical issues going on behind the curtain at the moment, so the transition to the next person auditioning would be delayed by a couple minutes. In retrospect, it was nothing, but when you were already a couple weeks late behind schedule, a couple of minutes was everything.
A young and bright second-year student sat to your right in the middle rows of the university performing arts center nosebleeds. She was peppy and eager and passionate—all the things that you sometimes saw yourself as when you were her age. Her name was Bae Sumin, and she wasn’t here to audition, nor was she here for you. She was actually here to interview a few of the dancers for the winter showcase in representation of the university’s premier newspaper called The Daily. She had asked if she could sit in for a few of the auditions and observe, maybe ask a few questions; who were you to refuse an eagle-eyed undergrad who reminded you so much of yourself?
“Oh, well,” you began, eyes flitting to the velvet curtain where you saw a man in a dark baseball cap—Lee Jihoon—give you a swift thumbs up, “kind of. Playwriting was my first love, but it eventually turned into screenwriting over time.”
“So why choose playwriting for your capstone instead of screenwriting?” Sumin followed up, as you and her attention turned to the spotlit stage where your next auditioner walked out onto.
You knew the answer to that; you really did. But the audition was beginning, and though he was introducing himself to you, you couldn’t quite get your head in the game. Why did you choose to write a play over directing a film? You quickly murmured an answer to the second-year beside you as the student onstage had gotten so nervous he dropped his copy of the script on the floor. “I guess, when it counts, you always go back to your first love.”
— ✶
It was times like these where you really valued a good, strong cup of coffee.
“—I’m gonna stop you right there.” The poor kid—you really did feel bad for cutting people off sometimes, but you swore it was wholly necessary—froze like a deer in headlights. You stood up from your chair and began making your way down the aisle and into one of the rows that were closer to the stage. “Michael, is it?”
Michael, the student on stage who had been auditioning to play the role of a Napa Valley wine salesman, bobbed his head in affirmation.
You dipped your head. “Okay, Michael. Let me ask you: what is your motivation for this scene as a wine salesman? Because, if I’m being honest, dude, I’ve counted like… four different ways you’re playing this character.” In this singular scene alone. Your head was spinning from stress, and his mannerisms felt right for the role, but his acting itself just wasn’t hitting the mark. (If that even made sense, but your initial thought when he first walked onto stage gave you the aura of a business major.)
“Um,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head, “my motivation is to… sell wine?”
“Sell wine, and? What else?” Please pick up on the lines. Please tell me you read the other lines of this character.
He rifled through his packet of stapled script papers, clammy fingers flipping through and his eyes racing over lines. He probably printed out multiple sheets to audition for multiple parts in case this one fell through. “Oh! I, uhm, I’m supposed to eventually lock Alex and Kai in the wine cellar.”
“Because…” You prompted.
“Because… my boss is the… second cousin of the bride’s uncle?” He quickly added on, and you could see the cogs in his brain turning like rent was due (your rent—your rent was due—oh shit), “Wait! Wait! And Uncle Lee overheard the ex-boyfriend plotting to get Alex alone, so he asked me to hide Alex, and I do it because I want to get promoted.”
You punched the admittedly sky-high ceiling of the performance art hall. “Bingo. Now give me desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman, Michael.”
Michael did indeed give you a desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman. He did so, very well, in fact, that you declared that you were done for the day. Because you definitely were. If you saw any more people and heard the same lines of script over and over for any longer, you were going to commit murder. At least, not without filling your stomach first. When Michael was done and scurrying off stage, you caught one of the sophomores working with Jihoon—you thought her name was SW!Yn—and asked if she could have the house lights turned on.
You trudged back up to your original seat up in the nosebleeds and found that Sumin had disappeared off somewhere. However, she left a baby pink-colored sticky note on the table for you to read: I realized that I have an actual job to do, but watching you work was so cool. Thank you for letting me sit in! x, Sumin. She’d scrawled her phone number below the message line in case you were up for a proper session to let her pick your brain, and you felt yourself smile as you tucked the note into the back of your phone case for later.
“Yn-ie!”
You settled into your seat, an eyebrow cocked in blatant amusement as you watched your best friend, Lee Hyunjae, leap down from the stage and bound up the aisle to where you were. “Where’ve you been for the past two hours?” You mused as you began packing your things away into your backpack at your feet. Hyunjae had come in with you early this morning at seven, and for the three out of five hours you’d been conducting callbacks and auditions, he had been seated beside you to keep you (relatively) sane and to give you his opinion.
He, of course, had not been allowed to sit in for Kim Younghoon’s audition, because that was favoritism. Hyunjae tried to convince you by saying he would be even more judgmental of Younghoon, but you had effectively booted him out of the auditorium. After that, he disappeared to god knew where, and Sumin replaced him.
“I’ve been around,” he said to you casually. Instead of coming into the aisle were you were, he went up one more row. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch. Hungry?”
You patted your stomach, leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs over your head like a cat. “Yes, sir. I can go for a buffet and a half right about now.”
“Oh, a buffet and a half?” He chuckled. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your upper half and rested his chin on top of your head. Your heart skipped about a dozen beats then; his embrace was always very warm. “So that must mean you're resuming this train in the afternoon, too.”
“Glad to know you pay attention.”
“Hey!” He squawked indignantly, no doubt jutting his bottom lip out in a Younghoon-esque pout. “I do pay attention to you.”
You made a face that he couldn’t see, but he could feel you pat his hands. “Sure, buddy, sure.”
Cleaning up didn’t take too long, as you reassured (more so reminded) Jihoon that you would be back at around 3 o’clock sharp. If he or Chan weren’t in to turn on lights and the like, you were certain you could hold your own. You and Hyunjae agreed on heading over to one of the closer restaurants on the Ave, only a few minutes’ walk from the performing arts hall. It was a cozy sort of cafe that served really good wonton noodle soup for both winter and summer days (Hyunjae always teased you for drinking hot soup on hot days, but it was something you had done since you were a kid).
Once the two of you had settled in a booth tucked away into the corner of the establishment, you were both swift to relay your orders to the waiter. Saying you were starving would be an understatement.
“You know, there are just some people who I can’t understand how they’ve made it so far in the program,” Hyunjae said to you as you squeezed a wedge of lemon juice into his glass of water. “Thank you,” he beamed boyishly, accepting the lemony beverage to sip. “—I mean, I’m sure they got in somehow, and like—I have no right to judge, but at this point, shouldn’t you understand the basic principles of design?”
You gave a meager bob of your head, taking your own glass to repeat your actions with a new lemon wedge. “They should if they’re all graduating in one quarter, too.”
“They’re all doing capstones,” he confirmed.
You offered him an amused smile. “Well at least you know that you’re doing okay, then.”
Hyunjae sighed, leaning back against his booth seat. His gaze flickered out the window for a second, then his lip curled upward as he returned his attention to you. “I guess so. Oh!”
He straightened and leaned forward again, bracing his forearms onto the table so he inclined himself toward you. “I was gonna tell you all about my backstage adventure!”
You chuckled. “Do tell, Jae.”
“Well, we begin our adventure with collecting dance kids like Pokemon—”
You sputtered around your straw, nearly snorting water from your nose and you swiftly slapped a hand over your mouth. Hyunjae’s eyes lit up as he laughed, but he was reaching over to hand you a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “I did not expect you to say that,” you managed to croak through your miserable laughter.
Hyunjae wagged his eyebrows at you. “What can I say? I am hilarious.”
“One out of a dozen times.”
“One out of one.”
“One out of ten.”
Hyunjae simply smiled. He could do this all day. “One out of one.”
But so could you. “One out of ten.”
He leaned closer. “One out of one.”
Not one to be beaten out by your best friend, you inched closer with a slightly narrowed gaze. “One. Out. Of. Ten—”
“Order of wonton noodle soup and an order of dan dan mian?” Both you and Hyunjae shot apart, heat crawling up to your cheeks, and you wondered if it was obvious to the bored-looking waiter setting your food down on the table. You passed a glance across the table at Hyunjae, but as always, he seemed practically unfazed. In fact, he was grinning like a madman.
You sighed, rolling your eyes. When the waiter disappeared and left you and Hyunjae to your own, strange devices, Hyunjae took a pair of plastic chopsticks from the collection on the table, wiping the pair down, then handing them to you. You thanked him as you accepted the utensils from him and wiped down a soup spoon for yourself.
As the two of you began digging into your separate dishes—with Hyunjae dipping a spoon into your soup and with you reaching over to pluck a couple pieces of minced pork from his bowl—it seemed that a silent truce about the matter prior had come to settle.
Hyunjae suddenly cleared his throat, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t using his chopsticks. “So as I was saying earlier—I found Juyeonie somewhere—I can’t remember. And then we found Sunwoo. The poor kid was just wandering around like a lost sheep; he was looking for Changmin, so we all went searching for him. And then Younghoon caught up with us—how’d his callback go, by the way?”
You swallowed the bite you had in your mouth before answering. “He did great, as usual. But you’re not allowed to know more than that.”
He sent you a playfully unsatisfied deadpan. “Hmph.”
“Hmph, back at ya,” you teased. You arranged a perfect spoonful of noodles, soup and wonton, carefully blowing on the surface. “So where did you guys end up finding Changmin?”
"In a closet."
You lurched, furiously holding back your snort as you closed your mouth around your bite. Bad. Idea.
Hyunjae didn't bother hiding his giggles as he watched you struggle to chew and swallow your bite of food. "You okay over there?"
With a glare that needed no extended interpretation, you wrestled the food down your throat. "I hate you."
"Hehe, whatever you say," he sang. "He was technically in a dressing room, but same thing. He was miserable, dude. Looked so perturbed."
You scoffed. "Perturbed? What is this? The Fast and the Furious?"
"Hey! Leave my man Vin Diesel alone!"
You cocked a brow at him as you slurped noodles into your mouth. "No." And then you added, "There is literally no reason for there to be so many Fast and Furious movies."
He huffed at you. "You know, that's exactly what people say about all franchises. What would you say if somebody came after Star Wars or Marvel like that, hm?"
"I'd murder them, and you'd help me hide the bodies."
A beat passed. "Touché."
Your lip curled in mild satisfaction. "Okay, so why's the squirrel feeling so down in the dumps? Something about that ex of his?"
Hyunjae motioned vaguely with his free hand. "Ex dance partner. Apparently, it was this whole thing that happened in high school, but I didn't get all the details."
"Ah," you replied. "I'm sure a good cup of coffee can get him to perk up just fine."
"Agreed." Hyunjae's eyes went skyward as a thought occurred to him. You couldn't help but admire the definition in his jawline as he did so. "There was something weird that happened."
"Oh?"
He quirked his mouth to the side and a crease formed in his forehead. "Yeah… we were talking about your play, right? And I was agreeing with Changmin that the whole thing was my favorite because you wrote it—"
Oh. You nodded your head indulgently, expression set in a way that seemed like you were incredibly invested in what he was saying. In reality though, your insides were flaring and you could feel the sweat dripping down the back of your neck.
"—and they just looked at each other? Like that thing you and I do when we know exactly what the other person is thinking, but I didn't get it." Hyunjae wrinkled his nose, reaching for his water. "Wondered what that was about."
You averted your eyes to your bowl of soup, trying to get ahold of yourself. "Yeah," you laughed, and you hoped it didn't sound as nervous as you thought it did, "I have no idea what that's about."
He simply shrugged then. "It's probably just something stupid," Hyunjae mused, then chuckled. "Just my friends for you. Silly geese."
You cleared your throat. "Yeah…silly geese, for sure."
And you were going to have a talk with those silly geese.
EPISODE TWO: LET'S ROCK 'N' ROLL
THIS was not your first rodeo, and it certainly would not be your last. It was approximately two weeks later, the Saturday at the caboose of Spring Break, that you found yourself standing in one of the first few rows of nosebleeds with your hair pulled up and out of your face and a packet copy of your script in hand. The entire acting cast sat in a sort of half circle mass on the stage with their own copies of the script. Today was Script Read-Through Day—as well as an intermittent fitting day.
Thanks to the efforts of your fellow workaholic, drama nerd classmate Kim Hongjoong, a handful of costumes for the entire play had been completed over the length of Spring Break. You'd asked your cast to find time over finals week and Spring Break to get a quick fitting done by Hongjoong and his team, and luckily, all of that had gone smoothly.
Now, it was your turn to lean in.
"Let's get down to business, everyone!" You said with a clap of your hands to capture everyone's attention. Your eyes roamed over the faces of the people who were selected and your heart thundered in excitement. This—this was just one part of the rush you lived for. You didn't bother to suppress your grin. "Thanks for being on time and making it back here; I know I cut your break short, but we're on a very tight schedule. Can we start with going around and introducing ourselves with name, year, major, and role?"
The circlet of introductions began at Cha Eunwoo, the young man in your year who you selected for the role of Kai, the main male lead. Younghoon was cast as Ryan, Kai's best friend, and the guy who was marrying Choi Miyeon's character Lily. Minatozaki Sana was playing Alex, opposite Eunwoo. You had been surprised Younghoon hadn't auditioned specifically for the role of Kai, but you were content that he'd gone for Ryan instead—a simple chemistry reading with the four main leads the week prior had confirmed to you that you'd made all the right choices.
The main cast also included Jung Eunbi, Jung Yerin, Choi San, and Dong Sicheng, another close friend of yours. All in all, you had been incredibly lucky with the ending line up of cast members, and the supporting cast, too.
The read-through carried along smoothly—well, mostly.
“—why, of course, dear Prim! It mainly trickles down to a few… specific details—Yn,” said San as he abruptly broke out of character. Everyone’s heads shot up from their scripts, including yours, as you watched San’s hand air-gesture to an invisible beard on his face. “I’m getting one of those weird old man beards, right?”
There was a murmur of chuckles throughout the group, and you gave him a small smile. “Of course, you are. I asked Hongjoong for the perverted-looking ones, specifically.”
He grinned, nodding. “Nice!” He thought about it, “Wait…”
Younghoon coughed up a laugh. “Shall we continue?”
You inclined your head in affirmation. “Thanks, Hoon. Yes, let’s get back to it. We were at Uncle Lee’s line about ‘specific details’.”
San had been selected to play the character of Uncle Lee, the role quite literally taken from the original Shakespeare play yours was based upon: Much Ado About Nothing. Your thesis play, the biggest project you would ever conduct in your undergraduate years, was called Jasmine. The storyline centered around ex-somethings, Alex and Kai, who were Maid of Honor and Best Man to their best friends Lily and Ryan, respectively. Because of Alex and Kai’s troublesome past, they acted like they hated each other, and Lily schemed to make them finally see eye to eye—as a wedding gift to herself, of course. She also convinced a party of characters to get in on the plan with her. It had all been very fun for you to write, and you imagined that the actors up on this stage now would make it all the better when they brought it to life.
With the read-through completed, you began splitting up groups to begin chemistry exploration readings. While you ushered Sicheng, Eunwoo, Sana, and a couple of the key supporting cast members onto stage, everyone else hopped down and scattered into the nosebleeds so they could get to know their fellow cast members more intimately.
You stood in the second row of the audience in the smack middle, one arm crossed over your stomach and the other propping your script up for yourself. Younghoon settled on one of the seats next to you, a small smile appearing onto his face as he folded his leg over the other. "Why hello Miss Director."
You hummed good-naturedly. "Why hello Mister Groom. Not up to saying hello to your fellow cast members yet?" Usually he was good about introducing himself to everyone; he was quite the charmer.
"I told the lovebirds I would pay attention to their chemistry reading for pointers," he grinned, eyes sparkling beneath the dim lights. "Kai's nervous about it."
"Ah," you voiced, glancing back to the stage where Eunwoo and Sana began interacting with Sicheng and the others on stage. "Awful nice of you, Ryan. Where's your darling bride?"
He gave you a show of wistful glance as he turned his eyes toward the ceiling and propped his cheek against his fist. "My beloved? Well, she is working her magic for the wedding. I told her—" he leaned forward onto his knees then, gesturing with his hands, "—I told her, darling! This is your special day. Anything you want is what I want. You should have seen the smile on her face—a daisy in bloom, Miss Ln.”
An amused expression fixed upon your face, you tipped your imaginary hat to him. “I think you should go find your bride, sir, before her plans get out of hand.”
“Her plans could never get out of hand,” he dismissed with the flick of his wrist.
“So you’re a Yes Man now?” You replied, your brain racking for the one part in the script you had written with this exact dialogue.
You saw the recognition flicker in Younghoon’s eyes. “That’s what love does to you, my friend. It’s not the same as those tally marks you always draw in that notebook,” he replied swiftly, gesturing to your script like it was the notebook that Kai was supposed to keep. “Say, you’ve never told me what those were for.”
Pleased, you arched an eyebrow. “That’s not the line, Hoon.”
You saw the moment he snapped out of character. He smiled, the kind of Younghoon trademark everyone could recognize and become spellbound by. “I don’t have the entire script memorized yet, Yn-ie.”
“I bet you have at least half of it memorized.”
He opened his mouth to remark something when someone hollered, “Oy” from the stage. Both you and Younghoon turned your attention to Eunwoo, who had captured both of your attention. He threw his arms open wide with a teasing grin. “Ryan, you’re supposed to be watching my back, man!”
Sana shot him a scowl. “Hey, if you get a second in this duel, then I get one, too. Lily!”
“As much fun as dueling you and winning would be, Alex, I’m not stuck in ye old days—”
“Your savior has arrived!” Everyone’s heads whirled in the direction of the doors at the back of the auditorium. There was a good handful of people who began filing in through the doors, with a very familiar blond at the helm of all the madness. Reminiscent of that one fiery Elmo meme, your best friend had his arms raised with an ear-splitting grin on his face.
Kevin Moon, one of the people amongst the masses, rolled his eyes as he passed Hyunjae to enter the auditorium. “They’re rehearsing, man.”
Choi Chanhee was swift to follow his friend. “Yeah, Hyunjae,” he teased with a grin.
You fixed your friend with a confused look. “Uhm… Hyunjae, what’s happening?”
Hyunjae jogged down to where you were, leaving his army of… people? behind. “You said you needed volunteers to help you prepare set pieces, right? Well, I told you I’d recruit some people and—” He made a wide, sweeping gesture toward the large group of people now simply crowded at the back of the room, awaiting instructions. Kevin and Chanhee sent you boyish smiles as they waved in greeting. “—I did!”
The lightbulb went off in your head. You couldn’t believe you forgot. “Oh, my god. You actually listened.”
Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. “Hurtful.”
Younghoon laid his head against his arms over the back of his seat with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “Aw, how romantic.”
Hyunjae pointed to his lanky actor friend. “Is he in character?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Your head shot over to Younghoon just as his eyes met yours. The man shrugged with feigned innocence, standing up to greet Chanhee and Kevin as the other two began slowly leading the army of volunteers down to where you all were setting up. You wondered how on Earth that man’s partner could stand his impish antics.
Hyunjae slipped into the row with you with a wince. “Aish, I can never figure out when he’s in proper character or not.”
“He is,” you blurted. You knew for a fact that Younghoon hadn’t been in character, but Hyunjae didn’t need to know that. Ignorance was bliss, after all. “But that’s besides the point—Jaehyun—”
He flashed you a smile, bringing his hands up to make a jazz hands gesture. “Uh oh, that’s my name-name. I either did really well or screwed up big time.”
You laughed, pressing your free hand to your forehead. “You did really well—”
“Yes!” He cheered while punching the sky. He laughed, bumbling over to you with arms open wide to embrace you. You simply could not escape him. “You’re welcome.”
You lightly punched his chest. “I never said thank you. But thank you. I appreciate it a lot.”
He let you go, lightly patting your head. A warm wave of energy made your nerves feel fuzzy at their synapses. “You don’t have to thank me for doing this for you. By the way, YH!Yn is on her way over; she’s just coming back from her internship.”
Younghoon suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared in the row again. “I heard YH!Yn’s name,” he chirped with a smile that looked like a heart. He waved his phone screen around, as if you could actually read what was on his screen, “Yeah, she said she’s on her way now.”
You nearly melted. “Oh, really? She doesn’t have to if she’s uncomfortable, Hoon. I know big crowds make her anxious—”
“Ah, it’s all good,” he said. “She’s happy to do it, really. It’s not that big of a crowd here, and you’re her friend, Yn. She wants to help out.”
“Speaking of more friends helping out—” cut in Kevin with Chanhee in tow (where did all of them pop up from, goodness), “—Cobie just texted that he, Sangyeon, Juyeon, and JC!Yn are all on their way, too. What’s the plan for all the set pieces then, Yn?”
All eyes went to you, and you felt your heart swell with love, pride—quite literally every happy emotion there was. This whole project had plagued your every waking and unconscious thought for months now. The pressure for this production to be good… there were too many people watching you now. But as you led your friends and your supposed army of volunteers to the backstage area, you felt like there was no way you could fail.
Right?
— ✶
You were cleaning up for the night. Your throat ached and exhaustion wore at your bones from the very extensive day you and everyone else had. Almost the entire cast and volunteer and tech crew members had cleared out by now—your friends had all decided to get dinner together, and you would all head over once you had finished with your business here.
You hiked the strap of your bag over your shoulder with a haggard sigh as you passed beneath the ghost light hanging backstage that signaled that Jihoon was practically done for the night. You caught a glimpse of the man hustling down the corridor and you called out to him.
“Hey, Jihoon-ah! I was hoping I could catch you on your way out.”
Jihoon glanced up from his phone, his slight smile illuminated in the pale blue-light of his phone screen. “Ah, hey, Yn-ie. Good first rehearsal today?”
You fell into step with him as you both maneuvered the dark backstage corridors together. “Yeah, actually. I’m very proud of everyone’s progress so far. I was so stressed about being a couple weeks behind, but… I’m lucky I have such a good group of people here.”
He hummed, nodding. “Definitely. That one—your Hyunjae—”
Your heart stumbled. “Hyunjae? What about him?”
“It’s nothing, but I thought I should mention that I heard a couple girls gossiping earlier—”
You nearly stopped in your tracks, and you felt something crawl beneath your skin. “What’d they say?”
Jihoon glanced over at you, maybe a bit surprised at how sharp your tone was, but he continued on smoothly, “You know that I don’t like involving myself in that petty drama, right? But they were volunteering with the set pieces and stuff, and they were talking shit about him. The usual, like, cocky, arrogant bullshit. Something about wondering how you put up with him all the time.”
You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. “Jesus,” you swore. “Who were they? I’ll deal with them—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said to you, firmly but not unkindly. The two of you had stopped in the middle of the corridor now, your voices hushed yet harsh still. “Hey, Yn—I took care of it. I don’t tolerate that shit in my theater, you hear? You have a lot on your plate, so I didn’t want you to worry, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”
Breathe, Yn. Your eyes shuddered for a moment. Hyunjae wasn’t always as well-mannered around other people as he was around you and his friends. He was like that for good reason—there were some things in one’s past that shaped who you would become, and unfortunately, that was one thing that you hadn’t been able to protect him from back then. So hearing something like this? You felt awful.
You finally gave Jihoon a nod. “Right, yeah… thanks Jihoon. Really.”
He nodded back. “Of course. Does that happen often?”
You rubbed the place between your eyes where an ache had formed. “No—I mean, he’s just got a front he puts on, but it’s not often. Maybe those girls just witnessed him on one of his bad days. He—” You shook your head.
“I get it; no need to explain it to me,” Jihoon murmured. He gently guided you toward the door out into the main auditorium where Hyunjae said he’d be waiting for you. “He’s a good kid.”
“I know. He’s great.” I love him.
When the two of you emerged into the darkened auditorium, the only light present was the one from Hyunjae’s phone. Your best friend glanced up from his screen, pocketing it away as he stood up to meet you. “Hey, everything okay?”
You and Jihoon exchanged glances. You met Hyunjae’s eyes, your smile small. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
EPISODE THREE: WE’RE ALL JUST TRYING TO KEEP THE STAGE LIGHTS ON
IT was Monday evening when you determined that you had reached the point in time where everything would only escalate from here. There was something about seeing the backstage crowded with techies that made everything seem ten times more real. Your day had begun an hour or two earlier than the actors’ as you came in to meet Jihoon and Bang Chan about set pieces and creative direction. When your actors had come in, rehearsal commenced by working through the first act of the script and creating a deeper understanding of motivations and purpose.
On Saturday, along with the chemistry explorations, there was also a moment where you had to sit everyone down and give them a better understanding of what this project even came from. (There was a real inspiration to the story, but there was no way you could expose yourself like that, especially in front of Hyunjae.) There had been yet another run through of the script, with some of your actors switching up the way they played their parts just slightly. That same experimentation would continue today.
You were in the box with Chan and a couple of his underclassmen peers as the few of you were discussing the matter of spotlights and the like. It was early in the rehearsal process, but it definitely killed to be early.
You heard a slight commotion as the doors at the back of the auditorium opened.
“You got it covered in here?” You asked Chan, already one foot out of the tech box.
Chan flashed you a dimpled smile and a thumb’s up, and you were on your way out and toward the sounds of newcomers. You could already make out the figures of your friends Park Jihyo and Wen Junhui from where you were running up to them.
“YN!” Jihyo squealed as she rushed to come bury you in a hug.
“Oh my god, thanks for coming, you guys,” you gushed, crushing yourself to her.
Jun scurried over, wrapping his limbs around the two of you, as well. The two of them had quite literally insisted on coming to this rehearsal as your sanity check, which you deeply appreciated. Well that, and the fact that Jihyo was helping you manage the finances for this project, as well as any sponsors who came through to support the play. You had never been good with that stuff, but luckily, your econ-business-major friend was. (Jun was always there for moral support; him being versed in acting also helped, too, with directing when you couldn’t.)
The three of you immediately got to work, and you were finally able to return to your own actors as the lot of you worked through the first couple of scenes of act one.
“What do you suggest we talk about?” Eunwoo asked from stage left where he and Younghoon lingered with their scripts in hand. They were standing opposite the stage from Miyeon and Sana, who were supposed to walk onto the stage from the right like walking into a restaurant. The main focus of the scene was supposed to be Miyeon and Sana, but because Younghoon and Eunwoo were still onstage, they had to act like they were actually doing something even if their microphones wouldn’t be activated.
Younghoon gave a shrug and an easygoing smile. “What do you think Kai and Ryan talk about?”
“Kai feels like the kind of pompous jerk who speaks only in Ralph Waldo Emerson and Sylvia Plath.”
“That could be an interesting dynamic,” Jun chimed in.
You lifted a shoulder in agreement. “I say ‘yes’. Let’s just see what this looks like—Eunwoo, play that; Younghoon, play the exact opposite.”
Younghoon sputtered a laugh, but he saluted, understanding your directions (somehow… it was probably because you had worked with him for a long time over the course of both of your academic careers). “Aye-aye.”
You made a waving motion toward stage right where Miyeon and Sana were poking their heads out from behind the curtains. “Ready? Action.”
It turned out that the overly smart version of Kai was not what the scene needed. After a couple of new directions to Eunwoo about this little thing, you eventually settled on a nice in-between that reminded you awfully of a certain someone…
Lo and behold, you heard the doors at the back of the auditorium open up once more. You didn’t turn your attention away from the scene playing out before you, but you had an inkling of who had entered the sphere of the dramatic.
It wasn’t until the brunch scene had finished, you pursed your lips, nodding. “I like that.”
“I like it, too,” Jihyo said, paired with a nod from Jun.
You flipped through your script, asking for the actors taking part in the next scene—the bar scene—to come to the stage. “Uhm, let’s see… I need all of the main cast, barring Kai and Alex, to the stage. I also need Bartender 1 to come out, as well.” You waved your hand around toward the middle of the stage. “Make a little cult circle or something—yes, Younghoon, you have to stand next to Miyeon, silly goose.”
It was now that you finally turned around to confirm your prediction of who had joined the crowd. Just a few rows up from where you and your friends were sat three eager faces. Presently, it was Hyunjae, Eric, and his girlfriend, the former of which greeted you by raising up what looked like an iced caramel macchiato. God bless.
You hustled up to where they were, making grabby hands at the frost drink. “Thank you,” you sighed, accepting the drink and straw from him.
“Aye! Hyunjae!” Younghoon hollered from the stage. “Where’s my drink?”
Hyunjae cupped his hands around his mouth. “The kid has it!”
“I’m not a kid,” Eric sulked as he attempted to cross his arms over his chest while also not spilling the iced americano he was in possession of.
“That’s right!” EC!Yn mused, then added, “You’re my baby.”
Hyunjae wrinkled his nose at the lovey-dovey young lovers. “Oh, now that was awful, EC!Yn,” he groaned. He nudged your elbow from where you stood next to his seat. “Wasn’t that gross?”
Your brain was filled with caramel and caffeine. “Leave them be, Jae. At least they have someone to be gross with.”
Hyunjae mocked a face of offense, and Eric and his girlfriend slipped past you two in youthful giggles to go deliver Younghoon’s drink to him down at the bottom stage. When the two of you were left alone, Hyunjae pressed his cheek against his fist as he peered up at you. “How’s today been so far?”
You finished your sip, swallowing down the sugary, caffeinated goodness. “It’s been alright so far. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Well,” he sighed, “I knew you were probably going hours without water, so I thought I’d at least bring you something pleasant.”
You sat down on the floor beside his aisle seat, silently offering him a sip of the drink he had treated you to. “You know me too well. And what do you mean? You did bring me something pleasant.”
Hyunjae took a ginger sip of the drink then pushed the cup back toward you. He grinned, flipping a lock of imaginary hair behind his shoulder. “Ah, you mean me—”
“I meant the kids,” you teased as you smiled around your straw with a look that was hardly innocent.
He deadpanned at you. “Never letting my head stay in the clouds ever, huh, Miss Ln?”
“Someone has to keep you humble.”
A soft laugh fell from his lips as he shook his head, then pressed his lips to his knuckles. “Well I guess if it's gotta be anybody, it should be you. Then again, that Chanhee keeps me on my toes, too."
"Weren't you the one who said he had no ass first?"
He let out a snort. "I only speak the truth."
"That you do," you agreed.
Hyunjae flicked his phone screen on for a second to catch the time and grunted. "Ugh, I have to go meet with my group members for a project in Public Infrastructure."
Your lips curled downward. "It's literally the first day of the quarter—you have a project already?"
He huffed sharply out of his mouth, sending one of his longer bits of bangs flying upward. "That's what I'm saying. Professor is insane this quarter, especially for putting me in this group. He said he picked our groups for us because we 'don't always get to choose in the real world'." He made a face. "Somebody has hurt that man, and we are paying for it. Pretty sure the people in my group don't even like me."
Your chest ached at that, and you leaned your chin onto his arm rest while he settled his head against the back of his chair. "I'm sorry, Jae. I know group projects are hard with strangers, but maybe they'll be cool with you? Are you just a little anxious maybe?"
"Dunno," he mumbled, picking at a stray thread on the red seat. He raked a hand through his hair, shifting. "I'm just dreading it, I guess. I just have that feeling y'know?"
"Yeah, I get that." You bumped your hand against his, mustering up an encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, Jae. I believe in you."
Hyunjae collected himself enough to smile back. "I can always count on you, Yn."
"Of course," you said, as easy as breathing air. You exhaled, "What are best friends for?"
— ✶
You found yourself seated in the darkness of the auditorium seats, the ghost light of the stage your only company. The ghost light was a single bulb that hung from mid stage in order to prevent any mishaps or accidents from happening when one had to stumble about in the darkness of the theater. It was a single part of theater superstition, as well as a sign that Jihoon and Chan had gone on their way for the night, leaving you to lock up. You'd been given charge of empty theaters before, and frankly, the peace and quiet was something you needed.
The time was nearing nine o'clock though, and your stomach growled at the thought of going back to your warm townhouse shelter for some pity ramen.
You finally shut the lid of your laptop, slipping it into your bag so you could stretch your aching limbs. You popped a couple joints as you did, then reached for your drained cup of iced caramel macchiato.
The rest of rehearsal had gone reasonably well. You were making progress, and that was the important part. Eric and his girlfriend had left a little before Hyunjae had in order to go get dinner together. Hyunjae had understandably been reluctant to leave, but he basically convinced you to let him call you while he made his way over to his project meet up location. You were directing as he did, but he didn't seem to mind and listened quietly with the occasional humorous comment.
You hoped he was doing okay.
Just as you slung your bag over your shoulder, typing out a fast text to Hyunjae to ask about how it went, your ears picked up the faint sound of creaking wood.
You froze, your head whipping around the very empty theater for the sound.
You heard it again—it was the slow, haunting creeeak, like someone was taking a deliberately drawn-out step. The hand around your phone tightened as you turned your gaze to the stage. The ghost light hung eerily in the now-quiet hall, its amber light creating a circle of light beneath it like a beacon for creatures of the night.
Creeeak… creeeak…
"Jihoon?" You called out. "Chan? Is that you?"
The creaking stopped; a shiver crawled down your spine.
"Is someone there?"
When you were met with silence, you pressed a hand to your forehead, speed-walking up the aisle of the theater and out into the lobby. Swiftly locking all the doors behind you as you made your exit, you figured you were probably just hearing things.
As you deposited your empty cup into the trash bin just outside the theater doors, you received a reply from Hyunjae. The performance hall door thunked closed after you twisted the lock mechanism into place.
With no more than a glance at the dark windows, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the bus stop.
EPISODE FOUR: IT'S ALWAYS THE DARK AND STORMY NIGHTS
FRIDAY night brought an onslaught of the sky's wrath in the form of a storm. Rehearsal had progressed decently, and while you did appreciate how hard everyone was working, you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t rush the process if you wanted a phenomenal end product. You just needed to have faith in the people you were working with.
Nearly everyone had gone home by now, barring yourself, Jihoon, Chan, and a couple of undergrads they were keeping around to show them the ropes. You were in the backstage area packing up your things to head out for the night. You could hear the voices of your peers echoing slightly through the bowels of the theater, but none of them were too near to your location.
The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood up as you reached for a page of script cues that one of the techies had left behind on a stool.
You straightened, your eyes scanning the backstage area. All the lights were on tonight since Jihoon and Chan were still here. The ghost light was not your only companion tonight, and yet…
There had been a feeling creeping up on you this past week… something unsettling like you were being watched. Perhaps it wasn’t you specifically being watched—it was more so that you were never truly alone when you knew no one else was here with you. There was something bothering you about the shadows of the theater lately, and they had almost never been anything but comforting.
You had to visibly suppress your soul from jumping out of your skin when you heard that goddamn wooden creaking sound.
“Yn-ie?”
Your heart did about five cartwheels and a barrel leap as you whirled around to find Chan coming in from the other side of the curtain. He noticed your jumpiness and concern fell over his features. “Hey, you good?”
You usually weren’t so much of a scaredy cat, dear god. You let out a laugh, though it sounded more nervous than you liked. “Yeah—no, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little antsy, is all.” Yeah, that’s it. You slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder and walked over to Chan to bump fists with him in greeting. “You and the others wrapping up?”
Chan’s eyes swept over you and his mouth quirked into an expression that told you he didn’t believe your “I’m fine” bit at all. But he was never one to pry where he believed to be crossing a line. “Not really, actually,” he sighed, cupping the back of his neck above the headset hanging there, as the two of you moved back into the main auditorium together. “We just realized that some of the speakers have been left on for the past week. They seem to keep coming on even though we turn them off; just outdated tech, I guess. But we’re trying to see if we can fix them before considering getting new ones.”
The hammering in your heart subsided for a moment as your brows pinched together and your brain switched into work-mode. “Really? Okay, well, let me know if I can do anything to help—that is weird.”
You eventually said goodnight to everyone left in the performing arts hall as you let yourself out through the front doors. The rain seemed to have subsided from earlier, and the night was left with dark cumulus clouds looming above your head, and rain-soaked streets that smelled heavily of metal and petrichor. A cold, biting wind swept past your face and nipped at your extremities as you pulled your jacket around you tighter.
The walk to the bus stop wasn’t an awfully long one, but…
You stopped.
You swore you just heard a clattering sound from just behind you. Your attention went to a collection of trash cans sitting only a few meters behind you. When no animal revealed itself to be the source of the noise, you clutched your small canister of mace into your fist.
A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, and you turned on your heel to start walking faster toward the bus stop.
There weren’t many street lights posted in this area of campus, but if you could just get—
“YN!”
You nearly screamed when someone grabbed you by the shoulder, and you lifted the can of mace up in between you and the person.
“Shit, Yn. It’s just me!” Hyunjae slapped his palm over yours and shoved the nozzle of the mace can down and out of his vision. He wrestled your body to a stop, anchoring you to reality. “Holy shit, honey. Shhh, calm down. It’s just me.”
You furiously inhaled and exhaled, your chest rising and falling as you pressed a hand to your sternum. “Lee Hyunjae, what is wrong with you?” You growled. Had it been him this whole time?
Hyunjae dared a cheeky smile. “Well, I just saw you from down the street and I thought you saw me, but you kept walking. I guessed you were just in your head tonight, so I thought it’d be fun to surprise you.”
“You don’t grab a girl in the middle of a darkened, abandoned street and yell in her ear to surprise her.” Your eyes were hard as you reprimanded him; he was your best friend, yes, but you nearly had a heart attack right then. Your nerves were so on-edge that you just couldn’t joke with him at this moment.
He winced then. “Ah, when you put it like that…” He pressed his lips together, eyes taking in your tense form. There was something else in your face other than annoyance at his stupidity—something that troubled him. His voice grew soft, his touch even softer, as his hand cupped the back of your shoulder in a warm hold. “Hey, everything okay? I’m really sorry for doing that; it was stupid of me.”
You huffed a sigh and avoided his eyes. “This isn’t the first time I thought someone was watching me,” you confessed lowly, so not even the wind could hear you.
Hyunjae’s eyes widened when you said that, and he was swift to wrap an arm around your shoulders and gather you against him. His gaze surveyed your surroundings and the shadows seemed to dance in his view; his breath hitched. “Let’s get you home,” he murmured then, “I’m parked nearby.”
EPISODE FIVE: THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM
THE next day, Jihyo, Jun, Jacob, and Kevin were seated deep into the nosebleeds within the dim areas of the theater. Straight ahead, you and Hyunjae stood in the first few rows of seats as the actors were doing a run-through of the first act of the play. Hyunjae simply sat in the seat next to you, but you were doing your director thing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary at all to see you two so close, but something had shifted overnight from the last time all of them had seen you and he interact.
“Remind me again why you guys are here so early?” Jihyo’s question was directed toward Jacob and Kevin as she sipped on her morning cup of coffee. Everyone in the row was armed with their own cup of caffeinated brew, too; that was simply what being awake at nine on a Saturday morning called for.
Kevin peered at the other two from around Jacob. “His girlfriend and Chanhee are grocery shopping.”
Jun snorted. “Are they roommates? Why’s Chanhee grocery shopping with JC!Yn? Sounds a bit random.”
“They’re with her roommate and Changmin, too,” Jacob replied with a joking roll of his eyes. “Kevin’s just petty that they’ve never thought to extend the invitation to us.”
“Hey! You always hint at wanting to join them, too. It’s not just me, good sir.”
“I asked once, and when she said no, I never asked again—”
“—he’d only say that because he’s been scorned by love,” Younghoon lamented from the stage, his arm braced along the back of Miyeon’s folding chair. Props were still being finalized between a couple options, but Jun had found a bunch of folding chairs in a closet that you could use for the bar scene. Everyone’s attention moved away from invitation-less friends to friends playing pretend. He made a dramatic gesture, clutching his heart, then straightening with a laugh as he teased his friend who wasn’t in the scene. “I still think it’s stupid that he and Alex never worked out.”
Eunbi’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline as her hand, holding a water bottle that would later be replaced with a drink glass, froze in mid-air. “I’m sorry? This is news to me. Since when did Kai and Alex even have a chance at ‘working out’?”
Miyeon let out a delighted gasp. “Oh, where to begin?”
Yerin piped in with a lazier gesture with her water bottle. “They weren’t always sworn enemies, y'know. Once upon a time, the ‘lovebirds’ were actually lovebirds,” she chuckled at her own joke—or, her character’s joke.
Younghoon explained, "Their parents pretty much pitted them against each other since the end of middle school. They used to be friends, actually, and they were top of their class in practically everything. Except…"
"Academic League?" Eunbi guessed with her brows twisted. "I remember hearing about something like that."
"Yeah, I mean," Miyeon added, "something happened in junior year and it's been like that since."
"What happened in junior year?—"
Jihyo watched the performance with narrowed eyes, her body leaned forward onto her knees. "This sounds awfully familiar."
The three boys turned their heads her way. "What do you mean?"
She shook her head, eyes fluttering. She made a face and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly like what I'm… Jun, you remember when Yn told us about—you know?"
"That she almost confessed to Hyunjae? Ow! I'm sorry!" Jun yelped as Jihyo slapped his shoulder, hard.
Jacob and Kevin exchanged wide-eyed glances. "She almost confessed to Hyunjae? When?"
Jihyo sent Jun another hard glare, to which he sheepishly raised his hands in surrender, before replying, "Yn said offhandedly once that in junior year of high school, she was almost going to confess her feelings to Hyunjae, but then suddenly decided not to."
Kevin leaned his chin onto his fist. "Huh…"
"I don't know how I didn't even notice this before when I read through the script," Jihyo thought aloud. "Alex and Kai are Yn and Hyunjae—just…with a different ending."
All four heads turned to face forward once more, except, their attention zeroed in on you and Hyunjae. YH!Yn had appeared beside you, most likely updating you on the progress of the massive prop project she was working on for the play. You listened to her report intently as Hyunjae sat next to you, his head leaned onto your shoulder as he played some game on his phone. It was far too soft, far too—there was no way you based this all off of your own experience with Hyunjae, right?
In fact, it was possible.
As YH!Yn let you know that she would have to buy a few more PVC pipes from the hardware store, you assured her that she would be reimbursed for those expenses.
“—I know how busy you are—”
YH!Yn smiled sweetly as she cut you off, “Oh, no worries at all! I’m happy to help, as Hoon said before. Plus, this is a lot more fun than my internship; feels like a little creative project I get to nerd out on.”
You grinned at that sentiment. “Ah, I totally get that. Well, I won’t keep you from it any longer. Thanks again.”
YH!Yn gave a brief goodbye, then stood up to head back out to the backstage area where she was putting together the portable fountain she was building (you had given her a list of possible “show-stopping” prop ideas you had and she had picked the fountain). As she left, you watched as she passed by the bottom stage to catch Younghoon’s hand. Something like yearning ached in your chest. One day…
The mass weighing on your opposite shoulder stirred as he let out a noise of surprise. “Huh?”
You glanced over at him as best you could, then flashed Younghoon a thumb’s up to signal him that you were paying attention now. “Huh what?”
Hyunjae sat up straight, his nose scrunched, eyes pinned to his phone screen. “Didn’t you have a friend named Ellie in like, high school?”
Your lips curled into a slight frown at the name; it definitely rang a bell. “I did, what about her?” You asked. The sounds of the dialogue happening on stage faded to glorified background noise as you leaned over to peer at Hyunjae’s phone screen. There, he had a new text thread pulled up with an unknown number introducing herself as Ellie, a “classmate of his from high school”. Not only were you frowning, but your forehead creased, too. It had been ages since you had last been in contact with her. The two of you had been the best of friends before you drifted apart.
To be honest, you had no idea how the two of you drifted apart so easily when you’d been so close to her, but you ended up getting closer to Hyunjae anyway. You chalked it up to differences in interests, but maybe now you could get some answers. Well, that was depending on why she was texting Hyunjae.
“She texted me,” he said, holding the screen between you two. “Recognize the number?”
You could barely remember your own number. Shaking your head, you lifted your gaze back up to the stage where your actors had already moved through most of the scene. “Nope. Might be a new one since it’s been so long. Wonder how she got your phone number.”
Hyunjae blew out a puff of air as he laughed—you saw him begin to type out a response from the corner of your eye. “How do people not get my number at this point,” he grumbled under his breath.
— ✶
It wasn’t until you were seated in the booth of Junhui’s favorite Chinese restaurant on the Ave that he and Jihyo ambushed you with The Question™.
“So when were you going to tell us that the play was about you and Hyunjae?”
Your movements paused, then resumed so you could properly settle into your seat. "At least let me order first."
To their credit, your friends withheld from further questioning until the waiter had come by to take the table's order. When she had gone and was out of earshot, Jihyo pounced, whipping her head over to you and placing a hand on the table between you. You realized suddenly that you were trapped between her and the wall.
"Spill."
Your eyes widened a smidge, intimidated. "How did you guys figure it out? I mean, it's not that obvious, is it?"
Jun shook his head. "Nah, not really. Ji was just on five shots of espresso this morning apparently."
Jihyo sent him a pointed look. "I was not on five shots of espresso…" She murmured, "It was two."
"Okay, five shots, two shots—" Jihyo flapped her hands around as she angled her body toward you. "It was the bar scene and they were all talking about Alex and Kai. And I thought that the bit about junior year sounded really familiar."
"I can't believe you didn't confess to him back then," Jun feigned a disproving shake of his head while clicking his tongue.
You leaned your face against the palm of your hand with an unpretty fwump. "Guys, the play is basically centered around the idea: what if I had confessed to Hyunjae and it went wrong?"
"Just ten times more dramatic," Jun pointed out.
"And," Jihyo added, "their roles are switched. Kai's the one who confesses to Alex in the play, and it's Alex's ex who makes a grand showing at the wedding festivities to cause trouble. Yn doesn't have an ex."
"Uncalled for," you grunted.
Jihyo gave a charmingly beautiful smile that could make all the world fall at her feet. "You love me."
"You're lucky you're cute."
Jun sipped on his water. "I'm right here."
You and Jihyo bursted into giggles, the sound like twinkling bells. Jun sighed softly, but you saw the corners of his lips lift up into a small smile. For a moment, you had forgotten what the topic of this conversation was.
You sobered slightly, your hands reaching for your water glass to take a gulp, then nurse it between your palms. "Have you ever heard the saying that we always try to recreate our first heartbreak in order to rewrite how it ends?"
Jihyo and Jun quieted. They peered at you with eyes that could peer straight into your soul if you let them. That was why you couldn't exactly meet their eyes as you tried to articulate your thoughts behind writing this whole mess. "I mean," you pursed your lips, "it wasn't a heartbreak; it was never a heartbreak. My heart hadn't been broken because how could it be broken if I never even let it. You know?"
"That's not how a lot of hearts are broken, Yn," Jun murmured with a sincere depth to his dark brown eyes. There was something so soulful about them. "Most are broken in silence."
You huffed slightly. "That was a great line."
"I know—"
"Ahem," Jihyo said, reigning the both of you drama geeks back into the realm of real talk. She leaned over to wrap her arms around you, her head resting on top of your own. "So you wrote this… to conquer your fears? To comprehend your feelings?"
"To imagine, to wish, to dream," you added. It was quite sad, really. You couldn't quite think of writing anything else when the time had come to start drafting your thesis. "We write what we know best."
"I thought Hyunjae was basically there throughout this whole process," Jun said, his elbows resting on top of the table as he gestured vaguely. "How has he not figured out that Alex is him?"
You gave a shrug. You couldn't imagine how he hadn't yet figured it out, but it wasn't exactly the most obvious thing. You would soon rather go missing than Hyunjae ever figuring out the truth behind the play's inspiration. Whenever he asked you, it was always "I was so inspired by Kenneth Branuagh and Emma Thompson's rendition of the play" and "I wanted to spice up an old, timeless play and give it a kick of Today". He believed that you were writing a play based solely upon the themes of childhood manipulation, academic pressure, and miscommunication. And you were—just not only those things.
Your thesis would have never been accepted if you'd only presented a skeleton of a play about your nonexistent love life. All of the additions and embellishments to the story had come easy as you pieced together the plotline. But the two main characters had never changed.
With that now settled, the food arrived at your table. (What a brilliantly timed, cosmic coincidence!) You and your friends thought it best to move onto other topics of conversation. Somehow, you had reached the topic of your recent week of weird feelings. Not just about Hyunjae, but about the strange feeling of constantly not being alone. You'd even explained the entire debacle from last night, with Hyunjae scaring you then rushing you home.
Jihyo and Jun both replied appropriately: "Girl, what the fuck?"
You brushed it off with a nonchalance that was not convincing. (Then again, you were never an actress yourself.)
The rest of dinner progressed relatively smoothly, and when the check had come and gone, you wanted to offer a mint to your friends.
"—shit," you swore as you dug around in your bag. When your hand came up empty-handed, you brushed that same hand through your hair. "I left my Altoids in the theater."
Jihyo finished signing her bill, tucking her card away. "Oh? Well, let's go get them."
Jun bobbed his head as he shouldered his coat on. "Yeah, it's no problem, Yn-ie."
"Really? You guys don't have to; they're just min—"
"Nonsense!" Jihyo chirped. She stood up and out of the booth, giving you the space to slip out after her. She then linked your arm with hers, then hooked her other with Jun's. "Power in numbers, my love."
You could do nothing but agree—wholeheartedly. The way your heart rate slowed when she insisted that she and Jun would accompany you showed just how grateful you were. You probably wouldn't have even gone to retrieve them tonight, but waited until Monday instead. They were just mints, after all, but you were appreciative nonetheless. Even for a small item, they would be by your side.
The journey back to the theater was a brief one as Jun drove the three of you back to the performing arts center and pulled into the space right by the stairs up to the hall. You recalled leaving them on one of the dressing room tables in the back corridors, so you used your student ID to buzz into the back hallway of the performing arts building.
You and your friends' voices hushed as you all crept into the dark, abandoned building. When the door closed behind you all, you turned your phone flashlight on to guide your way toward the dressing rooms.
"It should be in one of these rooms," you told your friends as you entered the hallway of doors. You located a familiar number and pushed into the room, swiftly retrieving the teal-colored metal box of minty sweets on the vanity table.
The door closed softly when you slipped out.
"Hey, how's YH!Yn's fountain project coming along?" Jun asked as the three of you began to make your way back toward the back door.
"Oh yeah!" Jihyo perked up. "How's that going? She's so badass for that."
"Isn't she?" You gushed. "Do you guys wanna see her progress?"
There was an obvious answer to that, and the three of you made a hard one hundred eighty degree turn, swerving back down the corridor from which you had just come from. Your conspiratorial giggles echoed within the rafters and bowels of the theater, as if you were pixies from A Midsummer Night's Dream, frolicking through the forest in which they dwelled.
When you reached the vicinity of the backstage area, your footsteps faltered.
It was still dark.
You frowned, slowly stepping into the backstage area.
"Yn? What's wrong?"
Jun said it before you could, "Huh. The ghost light's not on."
Indeed, the bulb that was supposed to be on when no light was, was pitch black. A cool breeze drifted down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck and your arms stand up.
"Could Jihoon or Chan have forgotten on their way out?"
"You know Jihoon's not one to forget."
You drifted away from your friends as you slowly stepped into the backstage area. Your flashlight shone toward the walls first as you aimed to make your way toward the lights panel. It would be an easy fix—
Your heart dropped clean into the pit of your stomach.
The light of your flashlight illuminated the absolute chaos.
Setting and backdrop pieces that had been painted by volunteers, articles of clothing collected for people's costumes, scripts left behind torn out of their staples—all of it was flung about and scattered over the backstage floor. It was like a tornado had swept through the area, and you knew your friends were seeing what you were seeing now.
You held your breath for so long you were pretty sure you were imagining the hands shaking you.
Somebody had come in and took their rage out on your play. But who, and more importantly, why?
EPISODE SIX: PHANTOM OF THE PERFORMING ARTS HALL
"WHAT'S up with the ghost light anyway?"
There was a group of you gathered by the stage of the performing arts hall, the house lights having been turned on after you'd made a call to Jihoon and campus security. Along with Jihoon and campus security, however, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Eric, and Younghoon had also appeared. You had shot Hyunjae a text about what had happened and he'd rushed over with his friends—you felt awful about pulling them away from whatever they were doing, but Hyunjae didn't say anything about it.
You sat on the edge of the stage next to Jihyo with Jun and Hyunjae standing by you both on the floor of the auditorium. Well, Hyunjae stood in front of you and you leaned your chin on top of his beanie-covered head while the lot of you waited for whatever security pulled up from the limited amount of cameras. Jihoon had disappeared somewhere to make a call—you would hear from him, too, soon.
The question had been posed by Juyeon, who sat next to Eric and Younghoon in the first row of nosebleeds.
Jun dragged a hand down the side of his face, then rubbed his mouth. "Ah, it's uhm, old theater superstition," he replied. "Usually, backstage crew leaves the ghost light on so anybody coming in doesn't trip on anything or accidentally get hurt or, y'know—break anything."
"It couldn't have just gone out because of the power then?" Hyunjae asked.
Younghoon shook his head. "Usually it runs on the same electricity that every other light runs on. I've never been in a theater where the ghost light just randomly goes out, and there weren't any power outages today either."
"The problem isn't even about the ghost light," you said. Everyone's eyes flickered over to you and Hyunjae. Hyunjae patted one of the legs you had on either side of his upper body as a means of consolation or comfort. "It's about the props and costumes. We're just lucky that they were just scattered and not properly damaged. We would've been set back another week at least."
Eric perked up. "Maybe it's the ghost of Shakespeare haunting the hall!"
A snort fell from your lips as you mused, "Shakespeare in the park?"
Hyunjae cleared his throat as he prepared his best rendition of the Iron Man line: "Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?"
As the two of you shared a giggle and fistbump, the other remaining members of your party sent you strange, confused looks.
Younghoon gave an eye roll. "Oh dear god, you two really are meant for each other."
You caught Jun and Jihyo whip their heads toward you, but before anything else could be said, Jihoon was hustling back into the auditorium from the lobby doors in the back. He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he jogged over to where all of you were gathered, those signature bags under his eyes prominently featured. Oh, you definitely felt terrible.
"What'd they say, Jihoon?" Jihyo asked first.
Jihoon tucked his hands into his pockets as he joined the loose cult circle. "Security found that the locks on the front of the hall were picked open, so they wouldn't have gotten a record of somebody's card being used. Cams picked up someone dressed in black, but they knew where the camera would have gotten a clear shot of them. But because there wasn't anything officially damaged, there isn't much legal action we can take."
Juyeon offered quietly, "Breaking and entering."
Jihoon gestured to him. "Right. Breaking and entering, but that's about it." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "It wasn't just a prank or whatever. At least, I don't think so. What do you think, Yn?"
You swallowed, straightening slightly. "I don't think so either. I mean, I don't think any drunk pranksters would go through the trouble of picking open a lock. Even a sober one."
"Maybe a spiteful classmate," Jun suggested with a meager shrug. "Some people are ruthless."
"If there isn't much we can do, or much security is willing to do," you muttered, "then we should call it a night. We just have to take pains to lock everything up every rehearsal now."
Jihoon nodded sharply. "Right. Pains, but necessary ones."
"I'm sorry this happened to you," Eric frowned. A murmur of agreement echoed from everyone else in the group.
You pursed your lips. "It's okay, I—it's not okay, obviously, but I'm glad no one's hard work was properly destroyed. That's all that matters." Even if your nerves were a little shaken. Who could have done this?
The remainder of your time spent in the theater was picking everything up and putting them in their rightful places. By the time the group of you had finished locking everything up, the night had slipped away into its proper depths. Everyone was ready to get the hell out of here and go home to their beds, and Jihoon was certain to show you the ghost light being turned and sustaining for at least a couple minutes before the two of you were the last out.
Juyeon, Eric, Younghoon, and Jihoon said their goodnights and goodbyes, already departing their separate ways to go home. You lifted your head up to find where Jihyo and Jun were waiting for you when you saw Hyunjae standing closer to the entryway of the hall. He gave you a sleepy smile, opening up his arms for you to walk right into.
"Tired?" He chuckled, the sound creating a soft vibration in his chest as you shoved your face into his pretty-smelling sweater.
"Mm," you grunted. "You didn't go home with Younghoon?"
"Nah. I wanna go home with you."
In any other context, in any other situation, that would have meant something completely different. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around his frame. With a nod, you screwed your eyes shut and swept away those wistful thoughts. "Okay, fine."
You didn't know why you kept doing this to yourself. But he was your best friend, and tonight was… a lot. A friendly sleepover was something you needed—at least, that was what you were telling yourself.
— ✶
Being the oh-so courteous guest he was (especially since he practically invited himself over), Hyunjae let you take the shower first. You shared a townhouse a bus ride away from the university campus with two others whom you knew from rooming with them your first year of college. You had lucked out with the random roommate assignments that year, and the three of you weren't the closest nor best of friends, but you found great housemates in each other, which was just as valuable.
You had your own room and ensuite up on the topmost floor, so you and Hyunjae had a bit of privacy and wouldn't bother your friends below. You had finished with your shower a bit ago, so you were settled on your bed, flipping through emails and ensuring no important ones had ended up in the spam folder.
When you heard the door open from the bathroom, you glanced up, but returned your gaze back to this one email about a sponsorship that needed to be added to the playbill later.
"I accidentally grabbed the wrong shirt."
You hummed in question as you quickly forwarded the email to Jihyo, then looked up. A laugh sputtered out of your mouth as you took in Hyunjae taking up the space of your doorway. He was in a pair of his own sweatpants that he often left here, but instead of one of his t-shirts, he must have accidentally grabbed one of your tops. It was a Hello Kitty one you'd found in the back of your closet awhile ago, and fit you pretty nicely, so it looked strained on Hyunjae.
You flopped onto the bed, rolling around in your own laughter. "Jae!—your tits don't fit in that, honey."
Hyunjae's mouth stretched into a grin, his tongue darting out for a second. His dirty blond hair, damp and curly, hung slightly in his eyes over his forehead. "Oh, shut up."
To your detriment (you deserved this, you really did), he then smiled (more like, smirked) as he casually lifted the top over his head.
Your eyes widened just as your entire body lit up on fire. "Hey, woah there! Dude!" You jokingly covered your eyes—your whole face—with your hands as he flicked the shirt off, straightened it out, then stalked over to your closet to swap tops.
Hyunjae rolled his eyes as he ripped another shirt from a hanger and came to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "You've seen me shirtless before, Yn. Calm down."
No. How could you just calm down—? It was nearly impossible when you saw the way the muscles in his back rippled as he yanked the new, white T-shirt over his head. With muted sadness, you watched as the toned muscle on his stomach disappeared beneath the fabric.
Damn.
"You're drooling."
Your eyes darted up to where he was grinning down at his phone screen now, only looking at you from his periphery where you were still lying on the bed.
You huffed, rising onto your knees and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day. But you subtly swiped your thumb across your lower lip to make sure you weren't actually drooling. This is your best friend, Yn; control yourself. "Loser."
"Child."
"Chicken."
"Weirdo."
"Nerd!" You shot back, making him laugh as you draped yourself over his back and tucked his head under your chin. His wet, cold hair tickled your skin, but it was a welcome sensation.
You peered down at his phone with him from your perch. "Who's that?" You asked as he opened up a new text notification from a new number.
You were scanning the message the sender had texted while Hyunjae huffed. "Another of your suitors, milady," he drawled sarcastically.
The message said something like "would she be interested?", the "she" referring to you.
Hyunjae typed out: In you? Probably not.
You let out a gasp, hitting him playfully on the (muscle of his) shoulder. "Hyunjae!"
He snickered, exiting out of the text chain, then deleting the number. "What? I'm just being honest. I feel like every dude who's interested in you goes through me to ask and it's so lame."
You absentmindedly watched as he opened up Instagram and started brainlessly doom-scrolling. "Maybe it's 'cause you've so clearly friendzoned me," you muttered incoherently under your breath.
"Huh? What was that?"
"Maybe it's 'cause they see you as the gatekeeper," you amended, leaving him to climb off your bed and step into the bathroom to prepare your toothbrush for use.
You could hear the incredulity in his voice. "Gatekeeper? Pfft, no way. They're all just cowards; they don't deserve you if they can't ask you out to your face." After a second, he added, "Hey, I don't gatekeep you!"
You made a face at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth. "Uh-huh."
"That's not reassuring, Yn-ie."
You poked your head out of the bathroom and made eye contact with where he had rearranged his position so he sat up against the headboard. "I was just agreeing with you," you teased, then retreated back into the bathroom to finish up your night routine.
"No, you weren't, you menace."
You flicked the lights in the bathroom and bedroom off and rolled onto the bed next to him. The two of you laid facing each other in the dark, your bodies kept to your own sides of the bed and blanket. You both were propped onto your sides, one arm tucked beneath your head.
"I don't gatekeep you," he said into the silence, his voice lowering to match the volume of darkness. He poked your cheek with a finger, as if he could stamp the declaration there.
You gave a small smile. "Okay, Jae." A thought suddenly occurred to you as you broke your stare-down to twist around and grab your phone from the nightstand to see if Jihyo and Jun had said something to the group chat. "Oh, by the way, did you ever figure out what Ellie wanted?"
Hyunjae shifted so he was on his back now, one hand still braced behind his head and the other resting on his stomach—but his eyes still watched you. "Something about a random high school project from senior year. She couldn't find the file for it and wanted to draw inspiration from it or something."
"I didn't know you had a project with her in senior year," you said offhandedly, shutting your phone off and replacing it onto the nightstand. You sighed, slipping further beneath the covers and closer to Hyunjae.
He drew you close, tucking you beneath his chin this time. "Yeah, it wasn't really important. Nothing to worry about."
"I wasn't worrying."
You could already feel yourself drifting off into dreamland, the exhaustion in your eyes making your eyelids close like valance curtains at the very front, lowering to mask the backstage magic from the audience. Except, the magic were your thoughts rocketing into the realm of the fictional. For a split second, you thought about somebody being in your position with your best friend one day. Would it hurt to think about then as much as it did now?
You couldn't exactly think about that future right now. Hyunjae, you liked to think, was far from letting anyone new into his carefully-maintained walls. He had been hurt by people before, and you'd be damned if you didn't protect him from that ever happening again.
You thought Hyunjae had fallen asleep until you felt his thumb brush against the back of your shoulder. "When have I ever friend-zoned you?"
Your heart stuttered in your chest for a moment, but it wasn't enough to wake you up completely. As you drifted off fully, you convinced yourself that you had imagined him saying that. You were both awfully tired, anyway.
EPISODE SEVEN: OH SHIT, WAS MY MIC ON?
TWO whirlwind weeks had flown by. You could hardly even soak in the moments of this last undergraduate project before it all began to blur together. The only ways you were able to properly tell time were crossing out calendar dates and—
“Oh my god, oh my god! Get it out, get it out!”
You, along with everyone present in the main auditorium of the performing arts hall, came to a screeching halt as a flurry of squeals erupted from somewhere deep backstage. You and the conductor of the pit orchestra exchanged concerned expressions before you were making a beeline for the fastest access point backstage. Younghoon and Eunwoo were swift to accompany you, and though you had a sinking feeling you knew what this was, you held your grimace for when you confirmed your suspicions.
Over the past couple of weeks, the feeling of being watched had not faded from the back of your mind. You tried to adjust rehearsal schedules so that they were a little earlier in the evening, but people had lives and you simply could not inconvenience them based on someone trying to scare you. Plus, with the spring season flying in swiftly, the sun retired a lot later, which gave you some peace of mind, at least.
But over that same time, the person meddling with your show had ceased to cease. One day it was sky blue fabric strewn all over the main stage; another day it was peacock feathers left in the projection box; there were cables missing from tech, headsets changed to radio channels. Somebody was clearly pulling out all the stops to ensure that this theater and production was full of old theater superstitions and bad luck, either to scare you or the people you were working with (or both), and frankly—it was working. To an extent.
You stormed into the back corridor of the performing arts hall, the supporting cast and tech crew all sprinkled about the hallway, anxiously watching you and your friends pass by them toward one of the larger dressing rooms.
“What is going on?” You demanded as you entered the dressing room. There was a small gathering of people gawking at something—the dressing room vanity mirror. The breath left your lungs at the sight.
The surface of the mirror was vandalized, the infamous word “Macbeth” scrawled all over its reflective plane in red lipstick. Some of the product had begun to melt from the heat of the lightbulbs around the mirror and dripped down the mirror like blood. It would have been a comical prank if this wasn’t a theater. You felt a stiff, cool breeze run across your skin.
Somebody was really trying to fuck you over, huh.
You shoved down a swallow. “Somebody get me some Windex,” you croaked. When nobody moved, you repeated yourself, forcing a bit more strength into your voice.
Chan appeared in the room, his own eyes pinned to the subject matter upon the mirror, as he handed you a bottle of Windex and an old rag.
You snatched it out of his hands with a “thank you”, then marched up to the mirror. With shaky hands, you began scrubbing away at the word written over and over on the mirror. You heard Chan corral everyone out of the dressing room and back to their original activities. All your senses had dulled by now, and you felt Younghoon gently pry the rag from your hands so he could reach the spaces that you couldn’t.
“Who is doing this?” You voiced to the now sparsely populated dressing room. You sat in one of the dressing room chairs with your hand pressed to your forehead with Younghoon, Chan, and Jihoon present. Eunwoo had gone out to calm people down, but you knew that this was going to draw a line for some people. It was a known superstition not to utter the name of the notorious Scottish Play in a theater, and it had just been named about a couple dozen times on the mirror behind you.
Your friends could offer no suggestions.
Your pride took an even bigger hit when you decided to cut the remainder of rehearsal for the day; you were certain there were at least a handful of people who were scandalized by what just happened.
“Are you okay, though?” Younghoon asked you for the third time as the two of you watched people leave the performing arts hall from the base of the nosebleeds. “I know that you’re not usually so… swayed by superstition.”
You could only give a stiff shrug. “I’m not,” you agreed, “but this is going to be the biggest project and production of my undergrad career. I don’t—I can’t take any chances.” You smoothed a hand over one half of your face. “God, I’m just tired, Hoon. I’m so stressed, and cutting rehearsal short today—we’re gonna be set back another day—”
“Hey,” he soothed, grasping you by the shoulders so you would look him in the eye. He offered a kind smile, “You’re doing great, Yn. I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under right now for this to go perfectly, but I think you have to have a little faith in all of us, including yourself. One rehearsal is not going to make a difference in the long run. We’ve got a lot of talented, hard-working people who will sleep this mishap off and come right back to make up for lost time.”
He squeezed your shoulder. “And whoever’s been doing this? They’ll get their due karma.”
You let his words soak into your brain. You needed this; you needed those words said to you. With a nod, you and Younghoon deigned to head out with everyone else. Jihoon and Chan were swift to shut the theater down for the evening, as well.
As you and Younghoon stepped out into the early evening, the sky still glowed a buttery yellow swirled in purpley-blue. There was another breeze wafting by, but instead of the chills you got before, it was slightly warmer and made you inhale deeply. The air out here made your lungs less constricted, you realized, and maybe you’d been stuck in that theater for too long lately. This would be good for you, as well as everyone else.
“I think me and some of the cast are gonna get together to go over some scenes at the grove,” said Younghoon as he peered down at his phone screen. “Wanna come with?”
You brushed a strand of hair from your face, a decision coming to surface. “Nah, I think I’m gonna take a walk. Get some fresh air.”
Younghoon passed you a brilliant-sort of smile that gleamed in the golden hour light. “Alrighty, director. Sounds good. Have a good night then, Yn-ie.”
“Yeah, you too. Thanks for today, Hoon.”
You and Younghoon parted ways there, and while he traveled down the stairs toward east campus, you traveled northward toward the quad. The quad, a place most known for the cherry blossom trees that bloomed in the early spring, was no doubt full of people taking late afternoon strolls in the temperate spring climate. It was the perfect environment for you to relax and let some of the stress and pressure fade from your pulsing temples.
There were no longer cherry blossom flowers blooming upon the dark branches, but healthy, dark green leaves. Even if they were shades of pink, they were still beautiful nonetheless.
After making a full loop around the quad lawn’s perimeter, you made a detour down one of the side pathways that were lined in trees that yawned toward its partner on the other side of the pathway. It was noticeably quieter and less populated here, and for once, you actually didn’t feel like you were being watched.
You were walking for only a few minutes in the serenity when you saw a pair of people standing in a clearing of trees just to your two o'clock. You stopped, a familiar blond haired best friend catching your eyes.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Was what you heard from Hyunjae, and you almost marched right up to them to defend him.
That was, until you saw the girl's face.
You hadn't recognized her at first because she had her back facing you and she had changed her hair. But it wasn't difficult to recognize your old friend, Ellie, the one who Hyunjae said had contacted her. Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. Why were they together right now? You thought Hyunjae had said weeks ago that she was just trying to get ahold of an old project they'd done together in high school.
Ellie placed her hands on her hips, her facial expression stony and unreadable. "Can you think rationally for a second and listen to me all the way through? That's what you agreed to when you said you'd meet me."
Huh?
You pressed your side against the nearest tree trunk, your heart thundering your eardrums.
When Hyunjae said nothing, Ellie continued, exhaling sharply, "Okay. As I was saying earlier, do you even know what the play's about? …No. Look at you; can't you see? You don't even know what it's really about."
"Of course, I know what it's about," Hyunjae sneered. "It's about how academic pressure and miscommunication can ruin relationships—"
Ellie laughed, the sound mirthful, and yet carried an air of malice that made your skin crawl. This wasn't the Ellie you remembered… "That's funny, oh my god! You really don't know what it's about."
"What are you going on about?"
"I think you should ask her," she said with a smile. You peered around the tree, feeling utterly stupid like one of those characters from a teen drama eavesdropping on their lover and their nemesis. "Ask her, Hyunjae. I'm sure she'll tell you what it's really about when you mention that I told you she st—"
"Yn?"
Oh, for fuck's sake. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Jihyo's voice from behind you. You quickly grabbed her and dragged her down behind the tree trunk next to you. When she sent you a look that told you she thought you were completely deranged, you pressed a finger to your lips.
She indulged you, thank god, and followed your lead as you crept around the tree trunk again.
"It's cute that you have so much trust in her," was what you heard Ellie say next.
Jihyo squinted as she tried to identify the girl. "Who the fuck…?"
You kept your eyes glued to the pair before you, but muttered to Jihyo quickly, "That's Ellie. Old friend of mine from high school, but we drifted apart. Haven't talked to her since."
"She and Hyunjae are friends?"
"No, I have no clue what's going on." Yet, your stomach twisted and churned and you felt bile crawl up the length of your throat.
A muscle feathered in Hyunjae's jaw, but he couldn't seem to get himself to say something.
Ellie looked upon him pitifully. "One day, she'll drop you, too—when she finds someone better. That's what she did to me, y'know? I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories."
You saw red.
This time, Jihyo had to grab a fist full of your shirt and yank you down next to her to prevent you from clawing Ellie's vocal chords clean out of her throat. Because you would have.
Anything—you would've done anything to never see the flash of shame, hurt, and anger across Hyunjae's face when she said that. It was like she'd slapped him, clean and hard. Your chest ached as you watched his hand tighten into a fist at his side.
"You don't know anything about me," he said icily.
And it was over all too soon. Ellie said something to Hyunjae, but it was too quiet to hear. When Ellie left her own way, Hyunjae stalked off in a different direction, leaving you and Jihyo where the two of you remained hunched behind the tree.
You made to get up, but Jihyo pulled you back down again. "Ji, I have to go make sure he's okay—"
"I know you do," she told you firmly while keeping you seated down next to her. "But you're not in the right headspace, and neither is he. You need to breathe, especially after today and whatever the hell that was."
When you sent her a questionable look, she explained, "I bumped into Sana on my way to the performing arts center and she told me what happened. Then Younghoon told me you went on a walk and I just tracked your phone to here."
Your jaw dropped. "You tracked my—"
"Shhh," she shushed you, pressing a finger against your lips. "That's besides the point! Are you okay, Yn? For real."
You leaned back onto your palms, a frown coming up to your lips. "Everyone keeps asking me that lately."
"It's a valid question."
That was fair, you supposed. You released a sigh. "I mean… not really? I'm just stressed, and I don't even know what to think or how to comprehend what we just witnessed." Your brain was buzzing with every one of Ellie's biting words. What had she meant by all of that? She sounded so bitter, so malicious… What had happened?
Jihyo pressed her lips together, sitting down properly onto the grass. "What was that? Did you and Ellie end on bad terms?"
Your brows creased together and you absentmindedly scratched your jaw. "No," you murmured. "Not that I remember. It was just like we drifted apart over time. At least, that's how I remember it. I dunno."
You blew out another breath of air. Ellie and you had both been really good at what you did—theater, writing, all of the works. You two were a dynamic duo; if people now claimed you were a prodigy, then Ellie was your twin. In a way, you could probably say that your characters from the play you wrote almost mimicked yours and Ellie's creative abilities and technical prowess, but just in different spheres. While the love story was based upon you and Hyunjae, the foundation had been from you and Ellie.
But it eventually faded, that friendship. You figured that was just how things worked, as unfortunate as it was. You both moved on, and you found Hyunjae.
You relayed all of this to Jihyo, your friend listening to your words intently.
"—but I've never carried any ill will toward her," you reiterated at the end of your spiel. "I truly haven't heard from her since and she hasn't reached out either. I don't know what could have caused her to tell Hyunjae all of that."
Jihyo pressed her mouth to her knuckles as a thoughtful frown graced her porcelain features. "Hm, yeah. It's curious, for sure. What were they saying before I got here?"
You gnawed on your top lip. "She kept insisting that he didn't know what the play was really about and that he should ask me."
"Huh."
"I know right." You carded a hand through your hair. "I'm screwed."
"Only if he actually works up the guts to ask," she countered. "Though, I think you should beat him to it."
You cocked your head to the side in question. "What do you mean?"
She lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "Y'know—like you have to confront him about meeting with Ellie. You can't keep this from him; I know you."
Yeah, she was right. It would eat at you if you let that guilt swirl in your stomach. Plus, all of those things Ellie had said to him… you hoped he was okay. Dear god, you hoped he was okay.
(But the question now, you supposed, was who would bring it up first?)
EPISODE EIGHT: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT SHE'S THE BO-BO-BO-BOSS
FUNNY story: it took a week before you and Hyunjae could even have a proper conversation, in person.
With the quarter well underway, there was little to no time to stop and smell the flowers anymore. This had now become a race toward graduation, meaning that everyone was focused on their own problems. The “pranks” had dulled down, but they were, by no means, completely gone. There were always the occasional cord missing, or that dreaded creaking noise in the wings on late nights.
You’d grown used to it by this point, and so had your peers, luckily. The conversation between Ellie and Hyunjae sat in the back of your mind at all times. You always knew it was there, but you had so many things to worry about. Act two was just about wrapping up though, and so, play progress was chugging along well on schedule.
You really did have nothing to worry about—maybe it had all been jitters. Maybe it would all just finally go smoothly.
Friday night rehearsal was a little slower tonight since everyone had been here since noon. You’d all practically spent the entire day together, having lunch first, then diving into proper rehearsal. It had been a rehearsal full of laughs and a good time, and by the time Hyunjae stepped foot into the performing arts hall, you felt that you could take on anything. Even the conversation that needed to take place.
“Hey, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?” He said as the two of you stepped into the privacy of the sound booth, the tails of laughter still lingering in the air from the scene he had come into. You were currently rehearsing the directions of the first scene of act three, where Younghoon’s character was going through a full-on “groom-zilla” mode while Eunwoo’s character couldn’t stop talking about Sana’s character. It had been a full one-eighty character swap between the two friends.
You licked your lips, trying to press your smile down a little. “Oh, yeah. I was taking a walk, like, a week ago—and I saw you and Ellie talking.” You figured it would be better to just air it out right away; there was no need to beat around the bush. You lowered yourself onto the edge of one of the tables inside the booth, the air turning stuffy from the insulation inside the box. Crossing your arms loosely over your front, you watched as Hyunjae’s mood shifted, his body shuffling as he sought a comfortable position against the wall by the door.
Hyunjae cleared his throat, head ducking as his hand cupped the back of his neck. “Oh, really? You saw that?”
“I heard what she said to you—”
His head whipped up at that.
“—and I can’t believe she said that,” you said, those dagger-sharp words echoing in your mind from what Ellie had said to him about his own character. “Are you… are you okay?”
Hyunjae’s eyes widened a millimeter. “Am—am I okay?” He stammered.
“Yeah, I mean, she said that you were awful and it was…” You shook your head with a haggard sigh. “I’m sorry she said all that to you.”
“Thanks,” he exhaled, peering over at you through his eyelashes. He looked so small for once. “I—” He huffed air out from his nostrils, leaning his head back against the wall as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. “Is that all you heard though?”
No, I also heard her insist you ask me what the play is about. You blinked, your own voice seemingly trapped in your throat. Why couldn’t you just own up to it?
But he must have taken your silence as you saying that you hadn’t heard anything else, so he gathered his wits to ask you, “Yn, what’s the play really about?”
The breath left your lungs. “You know what it’s about, Jae. You were there while I wrote it.” Please don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it. Because a part of you knew that if he pushed, you would give. You would tell him because… how could you not? If he wanted you to be honest with him, then… oh god, would you really? Would you risk this little secret of yours and ruin a friendship? Either way—it could go either way.
His tongue darted out for a moment as he carded a hand through his hair; he took a couple steps toward you. “I know, Yn. But—Ellie kept on insisting that I ask you what the real idea behind the play is. And she—and she,” he laughed, the sound disbelieving, “she said that you stole the idea from her, which is crazy! I know it’s crazy, because I watched you labor over this thing for months.”
She what? All thoughts except for one left your brain at that moment: why in the world would Ellie tell Hyunjae that you stole the idea for Jasmine from her? You didn’t remember ever seeing this kind of work from her before. “I didn’t steal anything from her.”
“I know,” he replied again, placating you. He now stood right in front of you, but your eyes raced back and forth about a mile a minute as you mentally went through the things you remember ever writing with her. You couldn’t remember; you couldn’t think. Why would she say that? “So I just wanted to ask,” he said slowly, his words drawn out as he leaned down slightly so you would look him in the eyes, “what is the play really about? The real meaning.”
There were pros and cons to telling him. On the one hand, you could spew the same surface-level bullshit that you usually did, but you had a feeling that one wouldn’t work this time. On the other hand, you could tell him—the truth. That was the worst pill to swallow. It could end in utter catastrophe or it could end in your wildest dreams. But what if, when he didn’t feel the same about you, had to let you down easy and your friendship would never be the same ever again? You couldn’t bear losing him, you just couldn’t. You loved Hyunjae…
“Yn, you’re scaring me,” he said with an anxious laugh.
You met his eyes then. “You don’t trust me?” You blurted before you could stop yourself. Those words, that tone… it sounded to you like he really was starting to believe what Ellie told him.
Something flashed across his face, and he was racing to defend himself. “What? No, of course I trust you. I just—I just want to know what the real meaning behind the play was about; that’s all!” And if you can’t tell me, then what else am I supposed to believe? “Yn, come on, honey—please—”
“It’s about you.”
All breath left him. You saw the way one hundred and one emotions flickered through his eyes; all of thoughts racing about at once as he tried to comprehend. “What? I don’t—I don’t understand.”
You balled your hands into fists in front of you as the frustration suddenly bubbled to the surface. “I wrote it about us, Hyunjae,” you told him. “Alex is based on you, Kai is based on me. I’ve been in love with you since junior year of high school, and that is what the true premise of the play is about.” Your hands were shaking now, gesturing between the two of you in stiff, constrained motions like the feeling of your chest’s range of movements at this time.
You watched it dawn on him, watched him swallow—hard. “Yn, I’m sorry—”
“Jaehyun.”
He shut up immediately.
You pressed your fingers to the space between your eyes. For a second, you swore you could feel tears tickle the insides of your eyes, and you blinked them away, inhaling deeply to get your body to calm the fuck down. Why were you crying? There was no reason to be crying right now. “Can you—” you stumbled over your words for once, “—can you give me some space. I can’t… I can’t think.”
He obliged you, backing up a few steps, and you said fuck it. “Hyunjae, I need space. Please.”
You thought you saw hurt flash across his face, but you just wanted to be out of his eyesight. You couldn’t bear to feel those soft, sympathetic eyes on you. You couldn’t bear the weight of his “I’m sorry I don’t feel the same” right now.
“Okay,” he said, though barely audible.
It took a minute, but he left and you were finally able to suck in a large gulp of air. You strode out of the sound box and realized that everyone on stage was either looking your way, or had quickly turned their heads to pretend they hadn’t just seen that silent argument take place through the sound box window.
Your face and neck were on fire, but you swallowed your pride and returned to your rightful place in the middle aisles of the floor seats. You picked up your script from where you’d abandoned it by your bag. “Right,” you said, your voice shaky until you cleared your throat. (Your hands were definitely still a bit wobbly, but that wasn’t your greatest concern right now.) “Where were we? Scene one, right?”
Everyone slowly began making their way back to their original positions, but Younghoon walked up to the bottom stage and lowered his voice to say, “Yn, we can take a break if you need one. Take five, then reconvene.”
He probably knew what just went down in the sound box. Yet, you found yourself shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you assured him, un-reassuringly. “I can do this, Hoon.”
He frowned at you then—those damn, soulful eyes—but nodded, respecting your decision. Like everyone else, he returned to the original position his character was in at the top of the scene.
I’m sorry, his voice seemed to echo in your ears. A part of you ached at the thought of that stark hurt on his face, but you were hurting, too. Why would you send him away like that?
You blinked, your head clearing. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see it.”
— ✶
A few hours later, you finally had everyone wrap up for the night.
“Thanks for all your hard work today!” You exclaimed as the actors and techies began swarming the stage to put props away. You climbed up to the stage, too, jumping onto one of the backdrops that Younghoon was wheeling backstage to help him direct it through the heavy folds of the backdrop curtain.
Younghoon shot you a smile from the other side of the prop. “Well, Miss Director, nice work today.”
You returned the expression wholeheartedly. “Thanks, man. The same goes to you; I appreciate all your hard work today. And that idea for the wedding sequence was absolutely brilliant.”
He chuckled at that, and the two of you worked together to slot the prop onto the cart with the rest of the ones that were just like it. A couple of stagehands then moved the assembly line along and rolled the cart down the hall to lock up in one of the dressing rooms. “I like to think I’ve been to enough weddings at this point to know how to spice them up.”
“Ah, that’s right,” you mused along with him as the two of you began walking down the backstage corridor to where you knew his partner was hard at work with that miraculous fountain. “I remember something about yours and YH!Yn’s first proper outing being to your cousin’s wedding?”
Younghoon threw his head back with a hearty chuckle at that. “Your memory serves you correctly then,” he confirmed. “Well, it wasn’t our first proper outing together. Technically, we met at an outing—”
“What do you think they were arguing about? It looked like they broke up or something.”
The line caught you off guard, and your footsteps faltered. Younghoon gave you a confused look, eyebrow arched. Your ears strained to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in one of the open dressing rooms you just passed by.
“No way that they were dating! … okay, I guess that would make sense why she put up with him all the time,” a second voice scoffed. “Maybe she finally got tired of his bullshit and cut him off.”
“That would make sense as to why he got out of the theater so fast. I went to their high school, and even after Hyunjae left, the year above me still talked about him—”
Your hand slammed against the doorframe of the dressing room, effectively making the two stagehands inside jump in surprise. They gaped at you with wide eyes, lips parted in shock as you addressed them with a carefully-made blank expression. “Let’s not go sticking our noses where they aren’t appreciated, yeah? Worry about yourselves, thanks.”
The two bowed their heads, apologies crawling from their mouths, and you turned back into the hallway where Younghoon was waiting for you.
You resumed your walk down the hall, and your friend casted you a side-long glance. “Thanks for standing up for him like you do,” he said to you. “I don’t know what happened today, but…”
“It doesn’t matter what happened today,” you said to Younghoon with a small exhale. You gave him a smile, even though you knew it wasn’t convincing. “I’ll always stand up for him.”
“Even when he doesn’t deserve it?” Younghoon joked with a laugh.
Your smile curled a little wider. “Even when he doesn’t deserve it.” In reality, you knew that he deserved to have someone stand up for him. Whether that be you, or Younghoon, or even Jihoon—you knew that everyone deserved to have someone watch their back when they weren’t around. You might have pushed him away earlier this evening, but that would never stop you from continuing to protect him. It was simple, really; you loved him.
EPISODE NINE: ARE DRAMA MAJORS ALWAYS SO DRAMATIC? WAIT, DON’T ANSWER THAT.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have done this in the grocery store like you guys always do,” Hyunjae grumbled as sounds of livelihood raged all around him: pots and pans clanged to the sizzle of food on the stove, the TV played some random American murder mystery show on low volume, and Hyunjae was sandwiched in between two others on his and Younghoon’s apartment couch.
Chanhee, who sat on the other side of Juyeon (who was on one side of Hyunjae), snorted. His nose was in his phone as he scrolled through Instagram, but didn’t look up as he replied, “As if we’d let you into Grocery Aisle Therapy. That’s exclusive admission.”
“That’s true,” Jacob chimed in from Hyunjae’s other side, as the man spooned a generous helping of Frosted Flakes into his mouth, “I tried.”
“And if even Jacob was denied entry,” Sangyeon mused from the kitchen as he turned off the stove and hood range, carrying over a bowl of the fried rice he had made for himself. Haknyeon skipped behind him with his own bowl and his cheeks were already full of the delicious food. Eric and Sunwoo were swift to follow their friend’s lead and raced into the kitchen to get a helping for themselves.
Changmin made a face from where he sat on the floor below Chanhee and Younghoon. “Not for lack of trying. You should’ve seen JC!Yn try to resist his goo-goo eyes. Bleh,” he gagged.
“I admire her tenacity then,” Hyunjae sniffed. “Not everyone can resist Jacob.”
Jacob beamed.
Kevin narrowed his eyes at Changmin. He sat just a few spaces away from the glasses-wearing menace, but carefully cross-legged and cradling a bowl of popcorn in his hands. “You say that when you literally pined after your girlfriend like an angsty teenager for three years.” He feigned a face of contemplation, then added, “Oh wait, you actually are an angsty teen—aye! Dad, Changmin hit me!”
“I am so sick of this family,” Sangyeon mumbled under his breath as he collapsed into the armchair adjacent to the sofa-sectional everyone else flocked upon. “Enough, both of you. Why were we all called here, again?”
Eric slid back into the living room on the polished wood floors in his socks, then perched atop the arm of Sangyeon’s armchair as he feasted upon his bowl of fried rice. He carefully lowered each spoonful of rice into his mouth so he wouldn’t dirty the fluffy cardigan he now wore. "Hyung's in trouble with his lady lover."
“Lady lover?” Sunwoo echoed with his face scrunched up like he just ate something sour. He had taken the spot between Kevin and Changmin to hopefully stop one from kicking the other again (hopefully).
"You're so judgmental."
"And you're—"
Sangyeon massaged the migraine pulsing in his temples away furiously with a clear grimace. "Shush, children. What did you do this time, Hyunjae?"
Hyunjae's jaw dropped, an image akin to one particular Pikachu meme. "Why am I immediately assumed to be the one at fault?"
"You summoned us all here," Haknyeon said with a shrug. "And Younghoon hyung said that it looked like you and Yn-ie suffered a break up in front of the entire main cast of Jasmine."
Hyunjae threw a displeased glance Younghoon's way; the tall man grinned sheepishly as if saying "what was I supposed to do—lie?" Hyunjae stared down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers and the watch on his wrist. "It wasn't a break up…"
Kevin made a disapproving noise. "Oh, we know."
Hyunjae glared down at the top of Kevin's head. "Rude."
"Okay, so explain what happened," Juyeon prompted.
The man in question sucked in a breath. Where to begin? Someone muted the TV, so Hyunjae and Younghoon's apartment descended into a coat of silence. Everyone waited for Hyunjae's response.
Hyunjae decided that there was only one logical way to start. He began when he first received a text message from the elusive 'Ellie', your supposed best friend before him. He couldn't believe you had a soulmate other than him, but it only mattered that you two had found each other—not that that mattered—
He went through the entire spiel: Ellie had texted him about some project they worked on together in senior year of high school. He hadn't known why she would even care about something dumb they'd done in high school especially when she was a fourth year in college like the rest of you. But she had asked politely and he wasn't one to just dismiss someone when it was a simple, innocent request. However, when he had finished with this little task, he should have stopped there.
Their conversations eventually escalated from innocent "oh, you remember when…" to "if we meet, you have to agree to hear my side of the argument." He remembered her exact words: "You'll be very shocked to hear the truth" regarding your business with the play. He wanted to look out for you like you always did for him (and screw it, he was curious), so he obliged Ellie and met with her.
That had been one of many mistakes he made. The biggest mistake was what went down at the theater a couple of days ago. And now? He had just made you confess to him, he had broken your trust, and he didn't know how he was going to make it up to you.
(He had to admit though, that once he finally got space to think about what you said to him, there was something about the prospect of you being in love with him that gave his heart a lively kick-start—)
Chanhee reached over Juyeon's head and swatted Hyunjae's neck like there was a very large mosquito there. "You dumbass!"
Hyunjae yelped, his hand reaching up to rub the aching place furiously. "Ow!"
"Deserved," Kevin sang as he tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "That was super not cool, man."
"You don't think I know that?" He rolled his eyes.
"Yes," everyone chorused together.
Cue his next set of eye rolls.
"Hyung," said Sunwoo as he shifted so he faced Hyunjae. His eyes squinted up at him, his curly bangs falling into his pupils as they usually did. "How could you not see that she was in love with you? You have to be blinder than a bat."
"You've been hanging out with SW!Yn too much," Changmin teased.
"Hey, don't bring her into this and taint her good name! Even she saw how perfectly enraptured Yn-ie is."
Changmin opened his mouth to make another unnecessary comment, but Sunwoo slapped a palm over his friend's mouth.
"I guess that leaves one question," said Juyeon, finally, after a long stretch of his silence.
"And what's that, Juyeonie?" Sangyeon asked.
Juyeon pursed his lips together in a slight pout. "What else? Are you in love with Yn, too, Hyunjae?"
Oh—
Hyunjae's thoughts careened to a stop when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He maneuvered around on the couch cushion to retrieve the device, his heart pounding in anticipation—but that emotion was immediately swapped out with utter disdain.
His friends observed this flip with great interest. "Who—"
An indignant spark lit Hyunjae's dark irises as he furiously typed something to the sender and promptly blocked the number.
Jacob and Juyeon, who were able to peer over at Hyunjae's phone screen, both widened their eyes in scandal. Jacob grinned, lifting his hand to delicately hide his snickers. "Well that answers our question."
Hyunjae sulked, swiping through his contacts, then blocking Ellie's number, too. He should have done that so damn long ago.
"It was some guy asking if he knew if Yn was free in two weeks—"
"And she's not," Hyunjae grunted, shoving his phone back into his pocket, then standing up to go get Sangyeon's fried rice in the kitchen. "These fucking guys, man. Like, what the fuck am I gonna do? Hype you up to her? No way in hell—" He scoffed, slapping a spatula of rice into his bowl with a strength that the bowl, rice, and utensil didn't deserve.
He couldn't believe that one stupid, little thing the two of you had done in freshman year of college had led to this spam of dudes flooding his inbox for you. If he had half a mind, he would declare that you weren't on the market anymore and that you weren't even interested in seeing any… body…
The thought marinated in his head for a moment as he slowly chewed the fried rice. Why did he want you "off the market"? You were his best friend, but you weren't his to covet or shield or speak for. You weren't his.
You weren't… his.
"Oh my god, you can actually see the neurons firing in his brain for once."
Hyunjae plopped himself back into his original place on the couch. "I hate you guys."
"So you've realized that you're in love with her?" Younghoon asked exasperatedly, his hands splayed out on his legs like he was begging to the cosmos.
Hyunjae made a face and pretended that his heart wasn't palpitating and that a drop of sweat wasn't dripping down the back of his neck right now. "What? Of course not," he said through a mouthful of fried rice.
One could hear the collective exhale of disappointment all the way to your townhouse.
— ✶
It was Thursday evening when you found yourself walking out of the performing arts hall after yet another rehearsal, and coming face to face with the person who had become one of your greatest problems over the past month.
Your hand stopped in midair from which you were brushing the hair out of your face when you and a young woman made eye contact. She was seated on one of the benches facing the entryway of the performing arts hall, her attention lifting away from her phone and to you. The sky remained alight and streaked in its dazzling sunset colors, and yet, the sight of her made everything feel grayed.
She smiled at you. "Ah, you're done."
Something crawled beneath the surface of your skin. For a second, you thought it was disgust, but upon further thought, it was really something bittersweet. You swallowed, adjusting your hold on your bag strap. "Can I help you?"
"Do you remember me, Yn?"
"Of course, I do, Ellie." How could I forget you?
Ellie's smile shuddered and you suddenly couldn't read her face. It was strange seeing her four years into the future. You remembered catching glimpses of her in the hallways, her sweet smile and button nose, the freckles sprinkled across her cheekbones like kisses from the sun. "I guess that's one thing out of the way."
Her biting words to Hyunjae appeared in the forefront of your mind. "What you said to Hyunjae—"
"Was true," she cut in. "And based on the fact that he blocked me a few days ago, I'm guessing that something happened between you two." Her lips curled upward, "How does it feel to know he actually doubted you? If I'm being honest, it makes me fucking sing, Yn!" There was a shiver-inducing giddiness to her voice and you wondered if this was all a joke. It would be a cruel joke, but anything would be better than this.
Could she see the horror on your face? "Ellie, we were friends," you managed to say.
She pressed her lips together. "We were friends until you decided that we weren't."
"What are you talking about?" You threw back at her. "We drifted apart—"
"You abandoned me," she quipped. The smile was gone now, her mouth set into a taut line. "You left me to rot."
Your heart dropped into your stomach. About a million things flashed through your mind, but most of all, you came to a very fast epiphany: you'd always thought she was happy. "Ellie," you said, slowly, softly, "I'm sorry that you felt that way. Really, I am so sorry."
"I've made sure you feel that way."
"But you should have left Hyunjae out of this."
Ellie laughed and the sound was harsh. "This isn't about your stupid best friend, or whatever. This is about you and me. I can't believe you thought—how could you prefer him over me? Why did you stop talking to me, Yn?"
You were so confused. All this time, you had thought that yours and Ellie's friendship ended on a mutually neutral ground. You thought that you had just drifted away from one another from the eventuality of time. Was that not how she saw it this entire time?
The end of Ellie's question took on a raspy undertone, the gleam in her eyes less so that of anger, but the melancholy underneath. You wanted to make things right, but you didn't know what that was.
When you had yet to say anything except for letting the breeze waft past your face, she let out a scoff. It was a somewhat embarrassed sound, her eyes skittish. "You know that my parents always compared me to you. Constantly. You remember what you said to me?"
You swallowed. "'They can compare all they want, but you'll always be enough for me.'"
"I didn't want to bother you when we 'drifted apart', as you say," she continued on with a huff. "And then I saw you and Hyunjae, and the way you looked at him—god, I knew right away, Yn. And I was so bitter. Just so, so bitter." She shook her head. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."
Dear god, you hadn't known this whole time. You'd wished you had known. You didn't know what you might have done differently—maybe not have been so blind—but… what if you couldn't have saved that friendship? Was this always meant to happen in the grand scheme of the universe's stage?
You made your way toward her and she simply watched as you stopped a handful of paces away from her. “I didn’t mean to drift away from you or to make you feel like I was replacing you in any way.” For a moment, you were quiet, and you inhaled a deep breath to query, "What made you suddenly want to confront me after so long then?"
She peered up at you, a mixture of sadness and something sharper in the reflection of her irises. "You didn't have to keep getting better and showing off. I just got sick of living in your shadow when you weren't even there."
You bristled at that. “What else could I have done? I’m sorry you felt that way, really, but I had a lot of pressure on my shoulders, too. I wanted them to stop expecting more from me, but each time I did something right, they kept pushing for more. And I—”
“I just wanted my friend back!” She exclaimed.
The words died on your tongue, dissipating in the tense air between you two. The fight left you then, seeing the hard break in her expression, a sliver of the girl you remembered from so long ago. What happened to her? She’d been poisoned by whatever feelings were locked inside her, and you supposed that it was only inevitable that those same feelings would one day be unleashed. You wished she didn’t have to confront you this way. "So you thought lying to Hyunjae would have done the trick?" You finally murmured.
"You didn't figure out who's been messing around with your production all quarter?"
The question caught you off guard, but you were quick to catch on nonetheless. Your breath hitched as you stood there, stunned. "That was you?"
A nod.
"All of it?" Disbelief struck you clean across the face and you felt like you'd just been slapped. A new level of anger boiled in your blood; all of those nights you spent creeped out of your mind, the extra stress from all the superstitious bullshit—
"This is our last act," she said, her tongue darting out for a moment. "I don't want anything else from you after this."
You couldn’t believe she would go through all of this trouble—all for what? All to prove what? It was utterly childish, preposterous, dramatic. “Good,” you asserted, as firmly as you could muster, “I don’t want anything from you either.”
And there was a split-second where you saw a crack in her expression, truly. Before, when you’d seen that bit of melancholy seep through, it must have been purposeful. Perhaps it was to draw some kind of sympathy or guilt from you, but after she admitted to doing all of that crap to you and your peers, you weren’t about to lean into that, old friend be damned. Of course you felt bad that she had felt like that for so long. You pitied her. But it didn’t mean you had to forgive her; not for this.
Maybe this was it though: all she wanted from you was for you to feel as helpless as she had, but you simply couldn’t feel that way. All that you could feel was cold fury.
“Fine,” she cleared her throat, straightening. “I hope you learned your lesson.”
You let out a scoff, the sound making her eyelids shudder. Your teeth grated against each other as you closed yours and her “final act”: “And I hope you’ve learned yours. I hope I never see you again.”
You turned brusquely on your heel to walk away before you did anything rash. But a sudden thought appeared on the tip of your tongue, and you found yourself stopping. When you glanced back at her, she was watching you leave with an emotion you couldn’t quite detect. The two of you had been such good friends, and… you really wished you could understand her position better. “I just don’t understand why you went through all this trouble. If you had just—texted me, called me—” You made a gesture with your hand then let the limb fall limply to your side, “You could’ve just said hi.”
You left her behind after that, purposefully this time. Did people like Ellie deserve their chance at redemption? Maybe when the dust had settled, but for now, you hoped she received her due karma.
EPISODE TEN: GOOGLE, DEFINE DRAMATIC IRONY.
THEY said that a terrible dress rehearsal marked a production for a brilliant opening night. As Michael, the wine salesman dude, forgot his fifth line of the rehearsal; as the tech staff in the box forgot their second lighting cue of the night; and as Hongjoong continued to have to fuss over San’s Uncle™ beard for the third time, you were trying very hard to keep that saying in mind.
Weeks had passed—you didn’t know how many, maybe five, maybe two, maybe an entire year—but that entire time, you didn’t feel Ellie’s presence haunting you anymore, nor had you heard from Hyunjae yet. He was busy with his architectural capstone project, anyway, and you felt that you both needed to take this time to yourselves to focus on more important things. (You thought this as if your friendship with him didn’t mean the absolute fucking world, but you were pretty sure you were seconds away from setting this building on fire so—)
The dreaded Tech Week had descended upon the cast and crew of Jasmine. Not only that, but it was also Finals Week, meaning everyone in this room was just as stressed out as they usually were, except, five times more. It made for a great rehearsal, clearly.
“—remember that as soon as she says ‘fine!’, you have to be out here to pull the rug out from beneath her feet,” you instructed the stagehand, who looked a millisecond away from passing out right there on the stage.
When they nodded their understanding, you turned away with a migraine pounding away at your temples. You just had to get through one more act, and you could call it a night. Opening night was literally in four days, and you were trying not to yearn after your best friend and feel guilty about pushing him away—and then there was the guilt that had slowly bubbled up over the past few weeks from what happened with Ellie. Maybe it had been all your fault—
“Yn, your eye is twitching.”
“Huh?” You perked up from where you were seemingly glaring a hole in the ground of the nosebleeds. Younghoon shot you an amused, yet mildly concerned look from within the winds of the stage. “Oh, sorry. Can we take it from the top of act three, please? One more act, people; let’s hang in there.”
That latter bit was more for you.
By the end of rehearsal, everyone was just as happy as you were to head home. Today was Monday, the beginning of the week, and yet you wished it was Saturday already—graduation. Now that was the light at the end of the tunnel.
Younghoon held the door open for you as the two of you exited out the front doors of the performing arts hall. When you murmured a thank you to him, he fell into step with you easily. The walk to the bus station seemed impossibly long with the ache in your legs.
Younghoon released a low-sounding whistle. “So…”
“Hm?”
“Are you coming to Cobie’s surprise birthday party tomorrow? I know it’s finals week and tech week, but it’d be nice to have that little break beforehand.”
Oh, right. Hyunjae’s friend Jacob was having his birthday party—well, it wasn’t him who was hosting, but his girlfriend. She had organized all of it, and had even had the good will to extend an invitation to you. At the time, you couldn’t find it in you to say no, despite the knowledge of your busy month at the forefront of your mind. But even now, you found it hard to really formulate a concrete response. The uneasiness was creeping up on you again.
“I dunno, Hoon…” you said lowly with a wince. “Maybe I should just catch up on sleep, y’know? And plus, I don’t want my feelings for Hyunjae to ruin the mood or anything. I’m kind of a Debby Downer right now,” you laughed pitifully.
Younghoon’s mouth curved into a frown. “Yn, you’re not a downer. You’re stressed and you have a lot of burden on your shoulders, but… I think something carefree will be good for you, no? Maybe you should at least stop by and say hello to people—take advantage of Hyunjae having to be in charge of providing free booze for everyone.”
You glanced up at him, meeting his kind eyes. “I’ll think about it,” you promised. You were probably too tired to think logically about going anywhere else but your bed at this moment.
Younghoon nodded. “Okay.”
As the two of you carried on down the stairs now, the bus stop in sight, you gathered your wits about you. “How is… how is he, by the way?” You asked.
Younghoon peered at you with something akin to gentleness and sympathy. “He’s… I think he’s okay.” He squinted one eye as he looked up toward the night sky, the thoughts meandering about his head. “You just have to give him some time. You know how stubborn he is,” he joked.
You could only give a shallow nod at that.
Not one to let a friend leave him so upset, he nudged you with the back of his hand. “Hey, don’t worry too much about him, okay? You have a lot on your plate right now, and you deserve to have your head in the game, okay? It’s all gonna be okay.”
“You always have such a way with words,” you laughed lightly as you wiped a tear from your eye—whether it was from emotions or just being plain exhausted, you couldn’t tell.
He smiled again then. “If I wrote down these words, I’d be stealing your job, Miss Director.”
Your laugh was a little brighter at that note. “Okay, Actor Extraordinaire. We’ll see about that.”
The two of you shared a laugh, and when you reached the bus stop, Younghoon waited until the bus came by to pick you up. It wasn’t yet deep night, but he was a gentleman all the same. You climbed up into the bus, scanning your transportation card as you went, then sat by a window to wave to Younghoon.
When the bus pulled away from the curb and away into the night, Younghoon pulled out his phone to the text chain with his partner. He’d come to a decision then, and as hungry as he was, he figured he could channel this annoyance into confronting one certain man by the name of Lee Jaehyun.
younghoon’s phone: love, i think i’m going to be late for dinner
beloved mastermind: i’ll save u a seat <;3
— ✶
The lights beneath the swimming pool glowed an ethereal shade of fluorescent blue. It reminded Younghoon of a mermaid's cove with the way the light waves reflected off the ceilings of the building to create scales on the rafters. The emptiness of the indoor swimming pool was offset by the thrashing of flesh against water as a lone swimmer stole lap after lap across the great blue.
Younghoon lowered himself onto a steel bleacher and watched Hyunjae bolt from one end of the pool to the next, hardly taking the time to breathe air, like he breathed chlorine and water instead. The familiarity of the smell—warm stone, pungent chemicals—sent flashes of Younghoon's own days on the high school swim team to his mind.
At last, Hyunjae took his final lap, his breathing coming out labored as he swept a hand up his face and through his hair. His locks slicked all the way back, and his chest rose and fell harshly as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his lungs fought to consume oxygen without asphyxiating on it.
Hyunjae clambered his elbows onto the deck. "How'd you—know I was here?" He managed to say, nodding his thanks as Younghoon handed him the water bottle at the other end of the bench from him where Hyunjae's duffle bag sat.
Younghoon gave a meager shoulder shrug. "I know you too well not to," he said. The two were both swimmers, and where else would swimmers go to put their head somewhere else and to escape the world?
Hyunjae couldn't argue with that.
The two friends were quiet for a minute as Younghoon let Hyunjae catch his breath. There was something troubling about seeing him so tense, even after pumping out so many laps. The exhaustion didn't seem to outweigh the conflict warring in his mind.
Finally— "Hyunjae-ah, what are you doing?"
Hyunjae blinked up at him, perplexed. "Huh?"
Younghoon leaned his cheek against his palm, elbow resting on top of his knee. He fixed him with a stare. "What are you doing?" He repeated.
This time, the message seemed to have been delivered successfully. Hyunjae licked his lips, his gaze averting away from Younghoon. "Did you come here just to scold me?"
"No, I came here to tell you you're being an angsty teen."
Hyunjae scowled, his lips pressed into a pout. "No, I'm not."
Younghoon rolled his eyes just as his stomach grumbled in protest at him not going straight to meet his partner for dinner. Instead, here he was, trying to talk sense to a wall. "You're so childish sometimes."
He quieted. Hyunjae leaned his head against the meat of his forearm, eyes fluttering closed against the warmth of the heated pool deck. "How is she?"
"She's not good, but she's also not bad," Younghoon replied. He sighed, leaning forward onto his forearms for a more comfortable confrontation position. His lips pulled into a line. "Stressed, of course, but I think that was a given."
Hyunjae rubbed his eyes. "I fucked up, Younghoon."
A solemn nod. "I'm glad you see it now."
"This isn't a joke."
"I'm not saying it's a joke."
Hyunjae squinted at him. "Sometimes I don't believe you."
Younghoon smiled cheekily. "Well, sometimes you have to pick who and what to believe."
That hit a nerve, even if Younghoon didn't mean it to. Hyunjae immediately thought of yours and his last conversation. He couldn't get the image out of his head of the look of betrayal on your face when you asked him if he didn't trust you. He'd been stupid to be so curious, but of course he trusted you. He'd always trusted you. Who else could he trust but the very person who always protected him and was by his side? So why did he have to go and be so stupid?
He backed away from the wall for a minute and simply stood in the middle of the shallow lane as if the water could give him wisdom. "I," he began, then sighed, "I miss her a lot. I've wanted to text her, to call her so many times." He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I think I just don't know what I would say."
"An apology would be a good start," suggested Younghoon.
"Right…" That was obvious, and yet, it was always the most difficult step. Would you let him come back into your life after a reveal like that? Feelings were such fragile, fickle things.
His heart sank at the idea of losing you forever though.
One day, she'll drop you, too, those damned words replayed over and over in his head like a broken record. —When she finds someone better… I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories.
Once upon a time, Hyunjae hadn't always been "awful" or dogged down by other people's negative testimonials about his attitude. So what if he had been "scorned by love" as you so lovingly put it one time? That experience had been enough for him to shut down all access points, keeping you sheltered in with him. It was hard for him to think of wanting to be with anyone else… but you.
He didn't mean to latch onto you so tight, but perhaps he had grown so dependent on you all this time. You had never given him reason to doubt how much you cared—god, why had he been so stupid?
Younghoon watched Hyunjae's inner conflict through the windows to his soul, glowing with the cerulean blue of the chemically altered pool water. "Hyunjae, do you love her?"
Of course he loved you. That was out of the question. But this was a different type of love that Younghoon was referring to, and it called for something much larger in the grand scheme of things.
That kind of love—what a frightening prospect, he thought. But didn't you make everything so much less frightening?
EPISODE ELEVEN: PLACES, EVERYONE!
"YOU stole my boyfriend, by the way." Hyunjae huffed as he set down the last two grocery bags he had helped bring up to the apartment from Juyeon's car.
JC!Yn barely batted an eyelash at him as she swept past to organize the utensils and cups set out on the breakfast table. “You snooze, you lose, Lee,” she teased with a sing-song tone.
From the front door, Sangyeon bumbled in with a clean, crisp white box, as he whistled a happy tune under his breath. JC!Yn greeted him at the entryway, thanking him profusely for picking up the cake, then taking the box from him so she could transfer it to the fridge for safe keeping.
“Chanhee says that he’s bringing his best friend, so he wants everyone to—I quote—‘not be embarrassing’,” Changmin snorted and giggled loudly from the couch where he relayed the information from his texts with Chanhee.
“That’ll be difficult for you,” CM!Yn quipped back so fast that Hyunjae couldn’t even suppress the high-pitched laugh he let out. Not that he wanted to suppress it; he had to admit that Changmin’s girlfriend was just as much a menace as her boyfriend was.
As Changmin’s jaw dropped and he pounced on top of her to tickle her into submission, Hyunjae averted his gaze elsewhere. He pulled his phone out, leaning against the granite kitchen countertop while he read Younghoon’s latest text notifications.
bread face: we’ll be there soon
bread face: i think i saw kevin and jacob a few cars behind us at the intersection, so i’m making haknyeon step on it
hyunjae’s phone: lol i was gonna chastise u about texting and driving hoon
bread face: tch pls, i’m better than that 🙄
bread face: i would at least make yh!yn do my texts for me 🤪
Hyunjae glanced up just in time to see JC!Yn’s front door open to reveal Chanhee and Eric, along with their plus ones. He tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking offhandedly at the fact that so many of his friends had found people to be with. It felt like they were all growing up far too fast; even as a fourth-year in university, it was unimaginable. Where would they all be in ten years? Where would he be?
He hoped, at the very least, that he might see you in his future—one way or another. As long as he could pull his shit together and finally talk to you.
hyunjae’s phone: almost everyone’s here btw r u guys close??
bread face: yeah, pulling up one block over so they don’t see hak’s car
bread face: hey, do yk if yn’s coming today?
Hyunjae’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, then he typed in the clear answer: no, not a clue. I have a feeling she won’t be here though.
He tucked his phone away, looking over to see that JC!Yn’s roommate, Kei, had just stepped out of her room with a finished “Happy Birthday, Jacob” banner. “Hey, you need help with that?”
— ✶
The party was well under way, and suffice to say, the surprise party had been an entire success. Because Jacob was definitely not a fan of being jumpscared, it was good foresight that everyone was just in sight when he and Kevin opened the door. He had no clue that his partner had organized this for everyone and that everyone else was in on it. (Even Eric was able to keep the secret in the wraps, no doubt with the help of his significant other.) Almost all of his friends had brought along a plus-one, minus the singletons (himself, Juyeon, Kevin, and Sangyeon—though, that was still debatable) and Haknyeon and Sunwoo who’s significant others weren’t too close with the group just yet. It was a marvel that Younghoon’s girlfriend decided to come, too, but she said she would probably leave early anyway.
“You’re so sad-looking,” said Juyeon as he hopped onto the island counter next to Hyunjae. The two of them could scope out the whole apartment from this vantage point; the mood seemed to be at an all-time high, despite it being an incredibly stressful week for everyone.
Hyunjae made an indignant noise and he lifted his plastic cup of soda to his lips. “Pfft. I’m not sad-looking.”
Juyeon gave a meager shrug. “Every time you see someone and their partner, you look like your puppy just got taken.”
“That’s—” he stammered in protest, “—that’s not true. I—I just keep thinking about my arch capstone, that’s all! School is ruining my life.” The lie was so stark that even Hyunje winced to himself.
“Ah, well, I can relate to that,” his friend sighed. The two gazed out at the party, their ears perking up when they heard Sangyeon say something about him and Jacob needing to step outside for Jacob’s birthday gift—whatever that meant. Hyunjae and Juyeon exchanged strange looks with one another, before bursting into laughter.
Not even a few minutes had passed before Jacob and Sangyeon walked back into the apartment with everyone’s curiosity piqued. Jacob had on the best poker face that he could muster, his lips pressed together but a muscle in the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he was either trying not to laugh or smile.
“Well?” Kevin was the first to voice. He, along with everyone else over at the couch, leaned over the back of the furniture, their eyes wide like dogs waiting for a treat. Hyunjae and Juyeon probably looked similar from their perches.
“He asked for proof of my girlfriend,” Sangyeon said as he closed the front door behind him.
Hyunjae snorted, catching a slight glare from the eldest in the room. For however long, their friend group had an ongoing inside joke that Sangyeon pretended to have a “secret girlfriend.” It was only because Sangyeon had never once provided concrete proof, and maybe it was because he purposefully withheld it, but Hyunjae simply couldn’t understand why. Thus, the hilarious teasing of their eldest friend. Nonetheless, Hyunjae and everyone else remained curious as to the truth.
“Well then?” Juyeon pressed, “What’s the verdict, Cobie?”
The smile on his face really couldn’t be suppressed anymore, and it looked so close to a smirk. Jacob grinned, strolling over to the couch to resume his place between his best friend and girlfriend. “No comment.”
The room erupted into a loud groan from seemingly everyone. “What kind of answer—”
Even Sangyeon looked frustrated and his eyebrows furrowed together, paired with a slight parting of his lips. “Birthday Boy has so much audacity today. Dude, I literally showed you—”
At the sound of the doorbell tone, everyone paused. Hyunjae hopped off the counter, chirping, “I’ll get it!”
No one was opposed to Hyunjae opening the door as everyone else engaged in a battle of wits commenting on Jacob's refusal to confirm nor deny the existence of a future Mrs. Lee Sangyeon. Hyunjae reached the front door and peered through the peephole curiously—then stiffened.
You stood on the other side, your hands fidgety as you played around with the little gift bag in your hands, no doubt for Jacob.
He could hardly believe his eyes—you actually came.
He opened the door without much else left to do. Your gazes clashed in the front threshold of JC!Yn's apartment, your breaths leaving your lungs at the sight of the other. Hyunjae swallowed; he hated this tension, hated the way he couldn't just wind his arms around you as easily as he had done before. The palpitations of his heart were teetering on dangerous territory, and he chalked it up to the fact that he was nervous he might be making you uncomfortable.
"Hey, come in," he murmured low but soft, stepping aside to give you space. He barely registered the background noise at this point.
"Thanks," you said back, your voice barely audible. You stepped out of your shoes and nudged them toward the massive pile by the shoe rack, like an ocean of footwear wherein one must play a matching game in order to leave. You coughed, "Uhm, is there a place where I can put this?" You lifted your gift bag half-heartedly.
"Oh, I can put it—" he automatically reached out for it, and when his fingers grazed against yours, the two of you jolted, "—away," he stammered. You let go of it so he could quickly grab hold and make his very awkward escape.
He dipped into JC!Yn's room where all the presents were being stashed, allowing himself to soak in a bit of quiet, even if he could still hear the muffled party just outside the room. That had to be the worst thing ever. Why was he so jumpy around you? It couldn't be that you professed your being in love with him, right? He wished it wasn't like this.
He needed to talk to you, damn it, he needed to fix this—
But when he emerged from the room and into the main living space, he saw you chatting with YH!Yn and Kevin and Changmin. He watched you smile at them and laugh and look way less awkward than you'd been with him just a minute ago. He remembered what this week was, what Friday was.
Opening night: the culmination of months' worth of blood, sweat, and tears.
He'd been there for you since the beginning of it. He couldn't see you fail, and this was the first time he'd seen you not stressed. He didn't have the heart to ruin that for you right now.
So instead of marching up to you and requesting an audience, he made his way over to a few of his other friends to join whatever conversation they were having. He would fix things when you didn't have five thousand other things to worry about. Today wasn't about him, after all.
EPISODE TWELVE: CALL TIME, BABY!
TONIGHT was the night. You thought you were going to throw up, to be honest, and you gently sipped on an iced caramel macchiato to keep your energy up. Perhaps the caffeine was making you just a little jittery, but it was probably the nerves—
"Yn!"
"Yeah, what's up?" You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and just barely dodging the pair of stagehands hustling a backdrop past you.
Jihoon gestured wide with his arms. "Where are you going? Preshow's in seven minutes."
Oh, right. Your eyes widened in incredulity at your absentmindedness and practically jogged over to Jihoon and the other end of the corridor that led back toward backstage, instead of wherever the fuck you were off to… "Sorry," you muttered, waving vaguely to your head, "dunno what's up with me right now. Is everyone ready? Everything in place?"
He nodded, his eyes leaving you for a second while someone said something to him in his headset. "Ugh, shit. We can't find SW!Yn—ever since she got that boyfriend of hers—"
Your hands flapped between the two of you as you nodded your head vigorously—yeah, it was definitely the caffeine. "She's probably in the sound booth with Chan and the others. She's not that boy crazy."
Jihoon made an unconvinced expression, but bid you farewell nonetheless. He probably knew more than you did, but that was expected since you weren't exactly a long-term staff member working backstage. Jihoon ran a tight ship; there was no way anyone would risk a Jihoon stare by saying hi to their significant other.
You held your head in your hand and set your drink down on one of the stools by the edge of the room so it wouldn't get knocked over. Tonight was Opening Night—the night. Tonight, there was a full house, including your friends and family, everyone at school, and about a dozen or so industry experts. The latter weren't just here for you, but for your acting peers, as well. This was a critical night for everyone. It absolutely had to go right.
You shifted the headset on top of your head and made your way back down the corridor. You were far too antsy to just stay in one spot.
"—can one of you go check Jess's hair and makeup—no, don't just rip it, hon, that's not how it works!" You recognized that anguished cry anywhere, and you peered into the dressing room Hongjoong and a swarm of other busy people were.
"What's going on?" You asked.
Hongjoong's head whipped around so fast you were surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Yn, thank God! You know how to braid?"
"Jess still needs hair and makeup?"
"Yes, one of my people had to call out sick—thanks Yn-ie!" You were already on your way to find where Jess was before he had finished his sentence. You'd hardly even processed the fact that one of the costume staff had to call out sick—that wasn't your main concern right now—you literally had less than five minutes to locate Jess and yeet yourself backstage.
The sound in your headset sparked to life. "Sound to Yn, Yn to sound. Can you hear me?" Bang Chan's voice echoed into your ears.
You narrowly got beheaded by a portion of the wedding arch coming down the hallway. "Loud and clear; fuck, it's a mess back here, Chan." God, your head hurt and the play hadn't even begun yet.
"Hey, man. Take a little breath, okay? Yeah, there you go."
You sucked in a very large breath of air. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins and your hands suddenly felt very cold. "Hyunjae usually helped me through opening nights," you exhaled, your head swerving left and right as you checked each room for Jess's presence. "Where is she?"
"I know, Yn," he said gently. "You can do this though. I know you can. You've been waiting for this for four years—hell, even longer than that."
Your head bobbed up and down as if he could see you—oh shit, was that her you just saw?
"He's probably sitting in one of those velvet seats, absolutely pumped for you."
"Even though I completely fucked up our friendship?" You choked out, flagging Jess down. The poor girl looked frantic as she was trying to finish her stage makeup while also braiding her hair. There was no way she could do both, but you admired the attempt. You began to help her out with her hair as she used her phone as a mirror.
"I don't know what happened, Yn, but he loves you too much to not be here tonight."
It was suddenly very difficult to swallow.
"Preshow in two. Are you ready for this, Director Ln?"
You finished the braid, snapping the elastic with a crisp thwip. Tapping Jess to let her know she was good to go, you made an immediate reverse maneuver to backstage. You took a deep breath in once more—held it—
Get your head in the game. Chan was right—you'd been waiting for this for far too long, worked far too hard. You needed to put faith in your abilities and your peers. "Let's do this."
When you returned to the main backstage portion, you found techies ready to go, as well as your main cast. You caught Younghoon's eyes, silently asking for him to round up Eunwoo while you got Sana and Miyeon. Quickly, the five of you met in the middle.
"Everyone feeling okay?" You asked them, making eye contact with each and every one of them.
There was a buzz about the air, both nervous and excited. You could feel it in the way your hands shook, but you reminded yourself this was what you lived for. Someone, probably Chan, gave you the one minute warning.
"We're gonna do great out there," Younghoon affirmed.
"And when in doubt," Miyeon chimed in, "just improvise."
A small chuckle rang out, and you could hear the countdown in your ear. You had to go out on stage and greet everyone.
"Okay, I got my cue," you said to them. "Break a leg, everyone. Chins up, alright?"
"You too, Yn," Younghoon said to you with a pointed look.
A smile graced your face then, and something settled within your chest—finally—something like a calm. "I will."
— ✶
The only reason why Hyunjae knew how expensive flowers were was because he was well-versed in the nature of presenting you with them after each production you'd completed, whether that be through theater or film. It was all standard practice, and he couldn't believe Sunwoo had the audacity to argue with him and his girlfriend about when to send flowers backstage.
Flowers were to be withheld from reaching the actor, staff, or director until the end of the performance. It was just one of those other superstitious things.
So here he was, sitting shoulder to shoulder between Juyeon and a stranger, with a lap full of vibrant blooms in what he thought were the best seats in the house: the lower balcony seats. They were probably his favorite place to get a proper view of the stage while also not being as high as the top balcony and seeing the top of actors' heads. Maybe it was the child in him that liked anything concerning the balcony.
The play had been going strong for the entire run time. You had come out on stage at the very beginning to welcome everyone and thank them for coming tonight. All the relevant information about the play could be found in the playbills that were handed out at the door, and he had instinctively flipped through each page until he could confirm your name and Younghoon's were there. That had definitely brought a smile to his face.
But even now, as the play was coming to an end and the main characters ended up happy together, Hyunjae still couldn't get the smile off his face.
At curtain call, all the actors lined up on stage to take their bows. When you came out to gesture to your acting peers and take your own bow, everyone in Hyunjae's row, especially himself, stood to give you the standing ovation you deserved. Hyunjae's eyes watered as he whooped and cheered and whistled as loud as he could since the flowers made it difficult to clap.
As he and everyone else sat back into their seats, he had to sneak a hand up to delicately wipe his right eye.
"That's my best friend," he said to no one in particular, his laugh watery but proud.
The woman next to him heard him, though. "She's incredible."
Hyunjae smiled at her, then turned his head toward the stage again where you were corralling the main cast in a massive hug onstage. "I know; she's amazing." I love her.
— ✶
The entire performing arts hall was in a state of utter pandemonium. Both the auditorium and the backstage areas were swarmed with people trying to get out of the building, trying to find their friends, and a butt load of other things. You and all the cast members began helping backstage crew take everything down and lock them up; after all, they would need to be preserved for the next two performances of the show that would carry on through the first couple of weeks of summer. Opening Night was only the "presentation" of your thesis.
Tomorrow was Commencement Day—there were a great handful of you graduating literally tomorrow, including yourself, and so you'd all resolved to go home and save the celebration for another night.
As you wandered through the corridors and dressing rooms, you were sure to congratulate everyone for their hard work tonight. Your cheeks ached from smiling, pride singing through your blood, as well as the lingering adrenaline. But you couldn't deny that you were relieved that the night had gone, and gone well.
Friends and family members of the cast and crew began trickling into the backstage area, so the space to roam lessened considerably.
Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjae had rushed back here faster than his friends could stop him, antsy to finally congratulate you and let you know how proud he was and how great the play was. He craned his head over the sea of people, half his bouquet no doubt squished, but he was still determined.
There—he spotted the blazer you wore on stage—but you were all the way at the end of the corridor. There was no easy way through the people, and who knew if you would leave before he could get to you.
"Yn!" He hollered over all the noise.
Like clockwork, your head whipped around from the stagehand you were speaking animatedly with in search of who had called your name. You locked gazes with him, and there was a softening in your features.
(In a crowded room, all I'd see is y—)
His heart leapt and his legs jump-started into high gear, murmuring out sorries as he maneuvered his way toward you. There were tears pricking at his vision; he never cried for anything or anyone, but you'd been the only one to draw such emotion from him. You were the only one who deserved that emotion.
"Jae, you're here," you breathed out, but then somebody tapped your shoulder and nodded in the direction from which you came.
He saw the concern on your face, the sense of responsibility, and yet the reluctance, as well. "Call me when you're done," he said. He mustered a smile, pushing the flowers into your dumbfounded hands. "Promise to call me."
You managed to nod. "Yeah," you swallowed, "thanks for coming tonight."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
EPISODE THIRTEEN: ALL THE WORLD'S OUR STAGE
A couple of hours later, you'd managed to express your gratitude to nearly everyone and their mother for their work and help, as well as convince Jihyo to answer any calls that came in regarding the play tonight. It was a big ask and you had been reluctant to ask that of her, but you also knew you needed to talk to Hyunjae.
You made your way out the back door of the performing arts hall and into the warm, early Summer night. There weren’t too many people still around since the only handful of people left in the performing arts center were all older staff members and faculty. You spotted Hyunjae leaning against the wall by the staircase, his gaze lifting from his phone when he sensed you coming toward him. A small smile curled onto his lips, and you realized how much you missed the sight of it.
“Hey, sorry you had to wait for a while,” you said as you approached.
He tucked his hands into his pockets. “No, don’t worry about it. The play was—it was incredible, Yn. I’m really proud of you.”
Those words struck you even harder than you imagined him saying he loved you back would have. It meant a lot coming from other people, but it meant the most coming from him. “Thanks,” you rasped, the emotion shining through your voice, and you had to consciously reign yourself in. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, and I know that my confession was kind of unexpected.”
“You shouldn’t have to apologize for that, Yn,” he said gently, his teeth biting down on his lower lip slightly. “I’m the sorry one. I mean, it was so stupid that I even entertained the idea of Ellie being remotely correct. It was a breach of trust and I crossed a boundary that I shouldn’t have. For that, I’m so sorry.”
You motioned to the path leading down the stairs and toward a path even you knew not where it would lead the two of you tonight. Hyunjae heard your silent suggestion, and the two of you began descending the stairs together, side by side. “Maybe I thought I wasn’t ready at that moment,” you confessed, “but maybe it was what needed to be said, you know?”
When you glanced over at him, you found that he was already looking back at you, clinging onto every word that came out of your mouth.
Your heart rate was still rocketing into the atmosphere right now, but you knew that it wasn’t from the play. “I think that I needed to say that—no matter if I was ‘ready’ or not. I don’t think I would have ever been ready, but…” Your foot hit the bottom step of the stairs, and you turned on the ball of your feet to face him, guiding the two of you down the path and away from your normal direction toward the bus station. “Before you say anything, just hear me out, okay?”
Hyunjae gave a nod, and your heart stuttered in your chest as you forged onward. “You don’t have to affirm my feelings if you don’t feel the same way,” you said, returning to your normal position at his side, “I think that was why I’ve been so afraid of telling you all this time—that you wouldn’t feel the same. That, and the fact that I was scared that telling you would absolutely wreck our friendship like it did these past few weeks.”
From beside you, Hyunjae managed to keep quiet, but his voice was also jammed inside his throat. It was filled up with all the things he’d wanted to say to you first, all the things that he wanted to say in response to what you were telling him now.
“Ellie confronted me the week after our fallout.” Hyunjae stiffened—had she done anything to you? “She told me that she was the one behind all the ‘pranks’ or whatever throughout the play rehearsals.”
“Yn, those weren’t pranks,” Hyunjae couldn’t help but cut in, “it was plain sabotage.”
Sabotage. You’d come to fear labeling her actions with that word, simply because you didn’t want to believe that that was her true intention. You struggled to swallow, stopping in the middle of the walkway. The two of you faced each other then, his eyebrows pressed together in shock and anger and every emotion in between. “She told me she did it to get back at me.”
“For what?”
“I abandoned her,” you told him. That emotion on his face shuddered like ripples in a pool of water. “It’s neither of your faults either, but I guess what I thought was drifting away from her and becoming closer to you, she saw in a more malicious light. And she said that she’d been sick of living in my shadow despite not even being in my life, and I’ve just been thinking about that for a while.” You said you’d be there for her, that she’d always be enough for you… how ironic that you’d been the one to drift away.
Hyunjae peered at you, a mess of things going through his head. You couldn’t imagine what he was thinking about right now, but you knew he was never the best at expressing his emotions and vulnerabilities.
It was okay, though. He didn’t have to say anything. “In that moment, I cut off all ties with her,” you clarified, “when she told me it was all her doing. Now, I just feel a little sad; I wished she would’ve just said hi to me.”
Hyunjae wet his lips, grasping your shoulders to get your attention. “You know you didn’t deserve any of that, right? All that shit she gave you? I mean, she pretty much terrorized you, Yn, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
You wondered—no, you knew—he was probably beating himself up inside for the argument the two of you had, too. The combined force of all of those tough conversations, as well as the pressure from the play… “I’m okay, Jae,” you reassured him. This time, you even believed what you said. “I’m shaken, no doubt, but it’s something that will pass with time.”
In this lighting, he was beautiful, ethereal. The amber streetlight casted a heavenly glow upon him, and made his eyes glimmer like the moon off a still body of water. You’d written something like that description somewhere in the original script, and you realized just how intimately you’d projected your reality into the lines of that production. Perhaps one day, you’d have the strength to point them all out to him.
A thought suddenly occurred to you in the silence, and your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Oh my god.”
“What? What’s wrong—”
“I never got to see your finalized capstone project!” You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth in scandal. “Shit, the showcase for it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Oh shit, I’m awful—” For as supportive as Hyunjae had been with your final project, you had neglected to even think about his thesis these last weeks. Guilt coursed through your body in waves and you wanted to screech—
“Hey, honey,” he chuckled good-naturedly, “it’s okay. You were busy; don’t sweat it.” He bit his lip again, but it did nothing to suppress the shit-eating grin on his face. “Wanna go see it now? I’m sure they haven’t cleaned everything up yet.”
Your heart skipped for a new reason now. “You’re gonna break into the architecture building?” You laughed.
“It’s not breaking and entering if you have access,” he said in a “duh” tone, waving around his student ID.
As the two of you made a swift reverse back up the stairs from which you’d come from, you gaped at his ID card in disbelief. “I can’t believe they gave you clearance.”
He wrinkled his nose at you. “Why wouldn’t they grant their top student clearance on his last week?” He sniffed jokingly.
The pairing of dialogue and execution made a giggle sputter out of you, the sound making Hyunjae’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. He hated the tension that had wrapped itself around the bones of his ribcage, but those vines were slowly loosening and blooming into something familiar, and yet new.
The trek to the architecture building was well-worn by both you and him. You hadn’t been by the architecture building in awhile because of your busy schedule, but you used to always pop by to either walk him to lecture or to come visit him while he was working. The building was built in a Greco-Roman style with columns and arches, and beautifully carved marble murals and statues around the perimeter of the roof. You knew that the building style in particular was never Hyunjae’s taste, but you remembered when the two of you had toured the school in your senior year of high school, he had been awestruck nonetheless.
Just as he had said it would, his ID card slid against the panel outside the front doors to the architecture building and came up green.
The two of you, feeling just like you were kids again, giggled as you crept into the darkness of the foyer. Hyunjae grabbed your hand without thinking and dragged you down the right hallway toward one of the larger conference-style classrooms on the ground floor. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in case security came by and saw, but there was a conveniently-placed streetlight right outside the window anyway.
“There’s my masterpiece,” he said quietly, a sort of jitteriness coming through his voice.
You let go of his hand so you could inspect the model he constructed. The feature piece seemed to be the massive clear dome on the top, as well as the smaller, surrounding establishments. “It’s amazing, Jae. This is so cool.”
He almost looked shy as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest and watched you. “Ah, thanks. It’s, uh, a proposed model for a new performing arts department.”
Your head turned to him then. “No way.”
“Yes way,” he smiled. “I don’t know if it’ll get taken up by the board or not, but I gave them my whole spiel yesterday.”
“You’re gonna give me the spiel, too, right?”
Hyunjae made a face, feigning reluctance, but you were already dragging one of the chairs over so you could sit for his little presentation. “I mean, I guess I remember enough to do it again.” He took up his rightful place right next to his model, in front you, and cleared his throat to give you his speech.
The speech went wonderfully; you cheered as quietly loud as you possibly could. Your face was split by a bright smile that you were sure was enough to power the lights in this building if you really wanted to. If the board didn’t take up Hyunjae’s proposed new model after that, then you were about to send a strongly worded letter to the dean.
Hyunjae took on a boyish sort of smile after the moment had come and gone. “Hey, you wanna see something cool?”
“Cooler than this?”
“Pfft,” he dismissed nonchalantly, “you flatter me. But yeah, actually. Come on—it’s on the second floor.”
You quickly shoved your chair back into place and followed Hyunjae as he practically ran out of the room and up the stairs to the second floor. He had far too much energy for it being around ten o’clock at night, but when you saw the absolute glow on his face when he took you from project to project, gushing and nerding out about all the clever designs, you didn’t have the energy to even question his energy. There was something utterly contagious about hearing him talk about his major with such passion; you were so glad he had found a home in this field.
When the two of you finally let yourselves out of the architecture building, it was probably around an hour later. Your body ached with exhaustion, but your brain was abuzz with activity. You had missed this, missed him so much. For the first time in a very long time, you had never felt this carefree before.
“Can you believe we’re actually graduating tomorrow?” You asked him as the two of you walked toward the direction of the street your town house was on.
Hyunjae snorted. “No, not at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “Well, I’m actually so glad that I’m finally getting out of here, but it’s kind of scary, too.”
You gave a nod, then tilted your head back to breathe in the comfortable, night air. There were stars up in the sky tonight. “Yeah, I get that. Like, where will we all be, y’know?”
“Right.”
“But I think that the unknown in general will always be scary,” you added. “In the end, we’ll always know that everything will turn out okay.”
“And if it’s not okay, then it isn’t the end yet,” Hyunjae replied with a pointed look.
“Exactly.” You had a few options lined up for you after graduation, but you’d told yourself beforehand that you would deal with all of that after commencement day. After months and years of working nonstop, you deserved a little rest before fully stepping into the adult world. Wow, what a scary thought, indeed. "I'm proud of you, Hyunjae."
He had to stop himself from breaking down right there. "I'm proud of you, too, Yn."
The walk home was quiet, but it was as if a layer of film had been laid over just you and Hyunjae. The white noise of the night became somewhat calming for you, and you felt yourself sinking into a state of serenity. You had confessed your love for him already—he finally knew how you felt—but funny enough, that was freeing.
That had been your biggest secret, and finally being able to lift that burden from your chest was… it was good. Everything was good now.
Hyunjae softly said, "I know that you probably have so much to do after graduation tomorrow, but we've always wanted to go on a road trip cross-country."
When you looked up over at him, he could read the excitement glittering in your irises. "You're right! Man, that conversation was so long ago. I mean… I won't be so busy after graduation, not immediately. I want time to enjoy freedom with you," you laughed, lightly punching his shoulder.
He chuckled, your words soaking into his skin like sunlight on the first warm day after a harsh winter season. "I think it'd be nice, just the two of us." He couldn't wait.
There was an earnestness in the way you looked at him then. His thoughts had been all over the place before, but now, they were beginning to clear. "I think that'd be nice, too."
Your townhouse was now in sight, and a distinct feeling of anxiety rose in his throat. It was bitter-tasting, the way he dreaded leaving you for the night even if he would most definitely see you again tomorrow. He didn't know why inviting himself in like he usually did was so difficult now, but suddenly, you were both standing in the middle of the entryway and you were getting your keys from your bag.
It was late; he shouldn't keep you up. You'd had a long day.
"—you tomorrow then. Thanks for tonight, Jae."
He wrapped his arms around you just as you hugged him, his face pressed against the crown of your head and yours pressed into his shoulder. He didn't want to let go, but it was late—
"Good night," he said, nearly inaudibly.
"'Night," you said, going into the house and closing the door.
Maybe it was the physical, literal visual of you closing the door on him, but the epiphany hit him like a bus.
EPISODE FOURTEEN: AAAND THAT'S A WRAP!
YOU were about five steps from dropping to the floor and sleeping for about five years. Of course, you could not do that because you literally had to wake up to graduate tomorrow, but right this moment, you were so excited to just face plant into your pillow.
Tap!
The first time, you hadn't even heard the tiny noise as you shuffled into your attic bedroom and set your bag on the floor at the foot of your bed.
TAP!
Actually, you hadn't even heard it the second time—
BONK!
"What the…" Your head whirled around toward the window. You could have sworn you heard something hit the window pane. Cautiously, you walked up to the glass and peered out into the darkened street. It was a little difficult to see given the contrast between the light of your bedroom, the dark of night, and the fogging acrylic pane—
You nearly screeched as a small pebbled hit the window, right where your face would have been. What the fuck—?
Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Could this have been Ellie trying to spook you again? No way, right? Plus, wasn't Hyunjae just walking by?...
Oh, wait.
With a huff of indignation, you wrestled with the latch on the window pane just as another tiny rock came flying at the glass. "Hold your horses," you muttered, finally managing to haul the dusty window up. You only ever really opened this window during the warmer months, and so you hadn't used it since probably late fall quarter.
You stuck your head out the window, and surprise surprise, Hyunjae was tossing another piece of ammo up and down in his palm, down at street level. "What is wrong with you?" You stage whispered.
His mouth curved into a frown, head tilting, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"
"What," you repeated firmer this time, "is wrong with you?"
"I needed to get your attention," he shrugged.
"You couldn't just text?"
"Isn't this what Romeo did?"
Clearly, someone hadn't been paying attention when you were studying for your classes on Shakespeare in both high school and second year of college. "No," you quipped, "and Romeo was stupid."
Hyunjae sighed, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, dropping the pebble in his hand to the ground. "Okay, so maybe I'm not some Romeo—" You weren't quite sure where he was going with this.
He started walking around, pacing the sidewalk in front of your townhouse since he couldn't stand directly below the window (your roommate would kill him if he killed her azaleas). For a moment, you were ready to go down there yourself and shake the words from him, but it seemed he was able to snap himself into focus.
"I just… it's taken me a long time—god, it always takes me a long time to come up with the words for this type of stuff," he stumbled over his words, and you felt yourself grow increasingly tender. He was never good at wearing his heart on his sleeve. "And my friends have been saying it this whole time—hell, I've probably been aware of it unconsciously this whole time, too! But you know how I am. I'm too damn stubborn to cave, even to myself."
You let him continue on without breaking his monologue. Though you couldn't be too sure what this was, your heart still galloped in hope.
"Yn, I'm—" he said, head tilting back to meet your eyes so you could see those beautiful irises of his, "—I'm in love with you, too."
This was really happening, huh? Your fingers curled around the window sill and you opened your mouth in an effort to say something, but then you closed it. The words and the thoughts were there, but it was so foggy in your mind that you couldn't even string the words together yourself either.
You watched the hope, the light, gradually fade from his expression, even if he wasn't actively trying to show it. "Please tell me to go home if you're not gonna say anything," he said to you next. "I know you're tired, but god, I just stood here and realized I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't tell you. I know it's selfish, but…" He lifted his hands in sort of a helpless gesture, his hands then falling limp at his sides.
Finally, you found your voice. You cleared your throat, then asked quietly, albeit a tad nervously, "This—this isn't just because you feel bad about what I said about not reciprocating, right? I mean, higher levels of excitement and arousal can be misattributed to feelings sometimes—"
Hyunjae shook his head. "Dear god, no. I've just been… I've just been really stupid, so, uhm, maybe I am like Romeo?"
You fought the smile on your face, but it seemed you lost the battle. "Silly goose," you teased, laughing as you shook your head. "You ain't no Romeo, Lee Jaehyun, but I've never wanted anyone but you anyway."
He broke into a laugh at that, the sound echoing in the streets, and it sounded like, if one could bottle up pure delight and release it to the world. "You're so much better at this than me."
"Clearly."
"Well," he bit his lip, his smile impish, "can I kiss you to make up for it?"
Oh, there went your heart—there it went, carrying you down the stairs and out the door—you would have leapt out the window if you were physically able (you weren't). Your heart carried you all the way outside again until you arrived in your best friend's arms, his face, his smile illuminated in the soft glow of the streetlight.
And he held you so tight, you couldn't tell if that beating at your chest was his heart or yours. The two of you wasted no time in pressing your mouths to the other, tasting the other's smile in one more way than you'd ever done before.
It felt, at that moment, that this might have marked act three of one part of your life—but act one of the next was just beginning.
Perhaps it was true then: when it counted, you always went back to your first love.
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a/n: heyy thank you for reading thru!! i hope u enjoyed and if u did, pls do consider commenting, reblogging, or sending an ask :] we do love a bit of humility in the end ayo :3 the original plan is to go for sunwoo's next o7
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jake-g-lockley · 2 years
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Can I ask for prompts 7 &/or 4 with Poe Dameron? Love your writing! 🥰
Glimmer of Hope (Poe Dameron x reader)
Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be Tagged?
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Prompts: “The hand behind their nape when they are embarrassed.” and “Almost kissing but someone walks in 0_0.”
Warnings: Allusion to injury
A/N: Oh my god thank you for the ask and the sweet comment, my heart <333 I haven’t written for Poe in so long, my beautiful rebellious husband, I hope you like this, it's just pure fluffy goodness xxx
Word Count: 3.1k
 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
At times of chaos, a little bit of happiness seems to drive everyone away from their troubles. When there was an announcement of an engagement at the cantina on one particularly glum day, things started to take a turn for the better. There were a lot of tears, all tears of joy as the glimmer of happiness sparked a whole lot of peace in people’s minds. 
You grinned at the happy couple, one a member of the red squadron and the other a tech at the operating base, who also happens to be your best friend, Kamira. They looked so elated and their happiness was clearly contagious. You congratulated the couple, kissing your best friend’s forehead and bringing her in for a hug
“Be my maid of honour,” she whispered through her tears and you nod without a second of hesitation. 
It took you a while to gather yourself but you were determined to make this the best wedding ever, to make it the best glimmer of hope the resistance has ever seen. 
 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You were now trudging around a busy market place, searching for the final accessories you were adding to Kamira’s bridal headdress, a small  astromech droid rolling at your heels telling you to hurry up.
“Yes, BB, I won’t be long. Go on, go bother your dad.” you said, turning to chastise the irritated droid. 
It was then when you realised that the man in question was not behind you. You stopped and looked around, frowning when you couldn’t catch the unruly mop of curls or sharp stunning brown eyes
“Wher- Bebs, where’s your dad?” you knelt down to pat his round head. BB-8 made a sound that sounded something like “ Don’t care, am mad.” and you rolled your eyes at the droid.
“He can be mad all he likes, I’m not buying him new fittings until he learns how to behave himself.” a soothing masculine voice with a hint of authoritativeness cuts through the buzzing sounds of the market making you smile.
You gathered your face into a frown before turning to face him.
“You went into a whole lecture about me running off too far when you can waltz off wherever you want and whenever you want?” you poked the man’s chest as he stared you down with a smirk on his handsome face.
“You hadn’t even noticed how long I’ve been missing.” He raised his eyebrows indignantly at you and you couldn’t help the smile at creeped up onto your face.
“Oh shut up, Poe, here, hold these bags.” you shoved your things into his arms and walked away before he could catch anything else from the expression on your face.
Your friendship with the Black Leader had been a unrequired one. You had been working late one night, deep in focus when an X-Wing swooped into the base and landed slightly clumsily. You squinted into the darkness and quickly ran towards the ship when no one came out of it. You pried the foggy glass covering the cockpit open and you were shocked to find Poe Dameron semi-conscious and on the verge of death. 
You had pulled him out with all of your strength, hulling the 80 kg pilot onto one of your trolley’s and pushing him to the med bay, screaming for help. You hadn’t heard from him for about two weeks when suddenly one of your favourite droids, an orange and white astromech, delivered a little message for you from Poe. You both got along amazingly and now here the pilot was, helping you search for wedding preparation things. 
You watched as Poe adjusted the large bag of items on his shoulder as he bargained with a seller. You couldn’t deny that he was a beautiful man to look at. His sweet mannerisms and innocent eyes meant that he could easily get his way at times but you allowed it. The setting suns created a beautiful glow that complimented Poe’s tan skin and brown eyes, turning them into caramel orbs that sparkled like gems at a distance. Poe turned to you with a triumphant smile, indicating that he had won the bargain as the shopkeeper mumbled something and stuffed the things into another bag. 
“Come on, it's getting late, we should get some rest.” Poe’s voice cuts through your thoughts and the both of you walk towards a nearby inn.
 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“What do you mean one room?” Poe runs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath.
“We’re all booked up unfortunately,” said the bored receptionist.
“It's alright Poe, we’ll adjust, we’ll take the room sir.” you said, hooking your arm around Poe and grabbing the key that was set out in front of him giving the receptionist a forced smile. 
Whatever negatives Poe and you thought about the room had been magnified to tenfold when you unlocked the door. The floor was absolutely filthy and the room was cramped, with a bed that was too big for its space. You turned to Poe who was staring into the room with the same expression you had brewing in your head. You couldn’t help but giggle and pinch his cheek at how blatant his emotions were showing through and he snapped out of it, following you into the room.
BB-8 was camping the night in his little astromech pod on the ship Poe flew you in. That just left you and Poe to find somewhere to crash for the night before heading back to base when the suns arose. You sigh and pull out a few scarfs that you brought with you for comfort, laying it on the bed so that you could have some peace of mind when you sleep. It took you a while to realise that Poe was staring like a lost child. 
“You okay?” you turned to Poe, a worried look on your face. 
“Uhm, yea sure. I’ll take the floor, you can have the bed.” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.
“Don’t be stupid, Poe, you can sleep on the bed with me, I’m not going to throw you off the bed in my sleep.” you chuckled.
Truthfully, you were worried about his back. Ever since that accident, he had been complaining about how bad his back would hurt and nothing seemed to solve it. You didn’t want to be the cause of more of his pain, that might essentially take him away from his true love, flying. You gave him a small smile and head to the refresher to freshen up. 
A few minutes later, there you were, staring face to face with Poe Dameron, casanova of the resistance. You can’t help but think of the many women and men that this man had bedded and you internally smack yourself for thinking up such vulgarity. You close your eyes and pretend to sleep, eventually lulled to unconsciousness by the soft warmth of Poe’s body heat and his soft breathing. 
Poe, on the other hand, was wide awake. His plans of falling asleep in a lone bed were quenched by the bored receptionist and he was now given an opportunity like no other. He knew you were pretending to sleep, so he did too but when your breathing steadied and your eyelids relaxed, Poe laid there and stared at you. He almost never got enough time with you, just to observe you and swim in the feelings that he felt for you. Why would he want to travel to the land of dreams when all he dreamt of was before him?
Now, he pulled himself out of the urge to graze your face with his fingers, to memorise your lips with his. He tucked his hands under the pillow so that they didn’t betray him. Everynight, when he succumbed to the few hours of sleep that he had, he would dream of you. He would see your worried face, the face that you wore when you discovered him at the brink of his death. Your hair was a mess and you had an oil smear on your forehead but Poe thought you were an angel who was going to take him to a better place. 
His hands itched to tuck a stray piece of hair that fell on your face as you soundly slept but he reeled himself back again. Suddenly, with a big sniff, you shifted in your sleep and one of your hands landed directly in front of Poe’s nose. He slowly took in a breath and smelled your soft soap and it was then when all of his urges took over him. Slowly, he extracted one of his hands from under the pillow and traced your hand softly, every line etched painstakingly into his brain as his fingers skimmed them, willing himself to remember every single detail. 
You didn’t rouse from your deep sleep although a small smile graced your face as your pinky twitches gently. Poe sighed, slowly letting his heart leave its cavity and fill the lines on your hands. He hooked his pinky around yours gently and waited with bated breath to see whether you would be jolted awake. Your pinky stopped twitching but your breathing stayed the same and Poe continued to stare at you until his eyes betrayed him, sleep consuming him like a hungry curse.
 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You awoke to something warm under your face. It was so soft and smelled like clean skin with a hint of motor oil and leather, giving you a sense of comfort like no other. You nuzzled your nose into the warmth and slowly opened your eyes. All you saw was an arm extending from whatever was under your face and memories of last night flooded back to you. You didn’t move but your eyes met with the sleeping Poe, who was snoring softly, a respectful distance between the two of you, minus the hand that was softly tucked under your cheek. 
The rebellious commander looked ethereal in the morning sun, his curls everywhere, his eyebrows and lips set in a neutral position, giving him an angelic resting face. You resisted the urge to close the gap and feel his soft pouty lips on yours. Your heart pounded as you took the chance you had and softly brushed his curls that were at his forehead. The second your hand came in contact with his forehead, a jolt of electricity ran up your spine, and you had to literally pull yourself together and not throw yourself over the sleeping Poe. 
His eyebrows twitched and you resumed your original position, closing your eyes. He slowly woke up and his hand that was under your face gently cupped it as a soft sigh emitted from him, twisting at your insides. Your heart was pounding under your chest and you felt the bed dip slightly as Poe slid out of it and pulled his hand with him.
You only opened your eyes as you heard the door to the refresher close. You silently flung yourself out of bed and did your happy dance as all the receptors of your brain fired at once, your heart pumping adrenaline throughout your body making you feel like a mad woman. The sound of water hitting the floor stopped and you bit your lip, sliding back into bed and pretending you just had woken up when Poe opened the door again.
“We’ll leave for the base after we get some breakfast.” Poe said smiling at you and you nod with a knowing smile, a smile that could only be fueled by the sweet feeling that your commander has fallen for you. 
 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You were running now, fabric billowing around you as you ran through the halls, in search of that one door. You found it, keying in the password and letting the door swoosh open before storming inside. Poe turned to look at you, adjusting the buttons to his uniform with a small frown on his face, but the second he properly took a look at you his mouth dropped into a soft smile. 
“How’s it going, Commander?” you giggle, realising that he had put all his buttons wrongly, setting a small jar aside and reaching for him.
“I look ridiculous.” he mumbled and you laughed, patting his lapel down and pulling him towards his table. 
“You look powerful, trust me.” you say, perching on his table and pushing his shoulders down so that he is seated at the chair. 
You reached out for the jar of mousse and lifted his head up by his chin, so that he was at eye level with you. Without a single word, you started to adjust his curls, twisting each piece so that they fall beautifully. Poe was looking at you with his huge tempting eyes, and you looked past them, not wanting to be distracted. Once you were satisfied with his hair, you grabbed some powder and dabbed it lightly on his face. 
“Ready for your big speech?” you murmured, smoothing down his eyebrows with your fingers and letting your hands trail over the sides of his face, examining him.
He shrugged, making you nod with a grin, knowing that Poe was more of the pep talk kinda person, preferring to steer clear from large structured speeches. You placed a hand on his chest and slowly pushed him against the chair as your eyes finally met his. They were slightly hooded and he gave you all of his attention, tuning his entire body towards you. You held eye contact, determined not to falter as you started unbuttoning his uniform. You tugged it and righted his buttons, your fingers working slowly and carefully on the intricately ordained uniform. Once you were done, you turned and picked up the mirror behind you, holding it in front of Poe. 
“See you look cute” you smile from behind the mirror.
Poe’s hand came to rest atop of the mirror, slowly pushing it down to reveal your face. His eyes were glittering under the dim lights of his room and he was gazing at you with a new look on his face, one of wonder and amazement. You’d recognize the look on his face, the same face he used when he would blow up a TIE in the sky, his face ablaze in the monitor and a maddening expression that made him look like a scientist who had discovered all he wanted to know. 
“Yea, beautiful.” he whispered softly as his eyes grazed your face. 
He reached his hand out and cupped your cheek, calloused thumb tracing your jawline, making your eyes flutter close and heart quicken instantly. 
“Poe…” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him.
“So beautiful…” he was getting closer now and you could see the light dusting of pink across his nose. 
You held onto the mirror between the two of you like it was your lifeline fingers digging into its hard ridges as Poe’s nose brushed against yours softly. Suddenly a loud beep launched the both of you apart and Poe stood up from his place, turning just in time for the door to whoosh open again. 
“Found your data pa- Why are you both looking at me like that?” Finn says, holding up Poe’s data pad. 
You adjusted your expression casually at Finn’s raised eyebrow as Poe coughed and straightened his uniform. 
“Knock next time, damn.” you heard Poe murmur and you purse your lips, keeping in a laugh. 
“Time for the-”
“Right, rehearsal.” Poe said shortly, exiting the room and Finn shot you a look of surprise and followed him a second later, leaving you stunned with your own thoughts. 
 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Poe watched you throughout the ceremony, unable to think of anything else as he watched the way you smiled lovingly at your best friend. Poe found himself replacing the bride and groom with himself and you, his hand coming up to fiddle with his mother’s ring on the necklace around his neck. You would make the most radiant bride, your smile itself would be the highlight of Poe’s day and to be the reason for that smile would be his greatest blessing. 
He got through his speech just fine, his eyes searching for everyone except you, worrying that he would stumble along the way if he looked at you. After the ceremony, he looked around for you, his mind racing at the events of the morning and wondering how it would feel to speak to you again. You weren’t anywhere near the party, and Poe had a good idea where you would be. He ran, the resistance of the wind messing up his curls again and his boots thudding against the floor. 
He stopped when he caught the sight of you, your cape billowing in the wind as you looked over the balcony at the scenery before you. You looked no short of a queen, your posture regal and your head held high. Poe was mesmerised, even more than he ever was when he had the chance to feel your lips against his moments before. He should have said something to you before he left for rehearsal, his heart now punishing him as he stared at you. 
“I know you’re behind me, Poe, I could hear your boots from a mile away.” you said humorlessly without turning around, your voice soft as it carried away in the winds. 
Poe approached you slowly, twisting his fingers slightly and taking his place beside you.
“Why?” Poe knew what you were asking and he quite frankly didn’t need you to say more.
“You saved my life, so it's undoubtedly yours.” He said softly but firmly and you turned to look at him with a shocked expression, your eyes wide, not expecting him to say what he just had said. 
“Oh Poe,” you breathed, grabbing his hand and tugging him close, claiming his lips with yours as you cupped his face with your free hand. 
His arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, sighing as his heart gave way completely. He pulled away, but one look at the way your face was flushed made him pull you back for another kiss, one that blazed something so violently inside of him that he found it hard to pull back. Eventually, he rested his forehead against yours as you held onto him, the both of you breathing in each other’s air as your hand rested against his chest, over his heart. 
“I-” you tried to say but Poe softly clamped his hand over your mouth and brought your head down to his shoulder, hugging you tightly. 
In that embrace you felt it, that glimmer of hope, the best one you had ever seen in your time with the resistance.
Reblogs are appreciated~~~
Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @in-between-the-cafes @steven-grants-world @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @autismsupermusicalassassin @alexxavicry @flordelalunas @euphoricosmo @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @lia275 @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless
493 notes · View notes
lxmine · 2 years
Note
Heyy! I’m the person that asked for the pt 2 for the chest hc’s <3 I was wondering if you can do kissing hc’s for dottore, childe, Capitano, or Al haitham? (Separate) I loveee your writing <3
❝shut up.❞ + dottore, childe, capitano, al haitham
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+. fluff, lots of kissing, slight suggestive
+. summary ; genshin men kissing head canons <3
+. A/N yawl this isnt smut ok T-T but its kinda suggestive but not rlly, as you know im a minor so i wont be writing it too smutty LMAO AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR SUPPORTING ME! I HAVE REACHED 60 FOLLOWERS AND U GUYS DONT KNOW HOW GREATFUL I AM FOR THIS <33 ILY GUYS SO MUCH
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dottore
your first kiss with him was just kinda normal. this dude does not make a single reaction when he kissed you for the first time.
not bcuz he didnt like it, it was just its so he could tease you about it.
“did… you not like it?” “oh dear, i was spacing out, darling. would you mind doing it again?” he smirks as he sits down on his chair and then pulls you closer by the waist, while looking up at you.
he loves it when you get all shy on him.
he’s not a fan of pda but i think if needed to be obvious, he would take off his mask while glaring at the person who was trying to get with you and just pull you in close and LITERALY make out with you.
he’s a sadist of course he loved the embarrassed look on your face.
but if you’re feeling sad and if he loves you enough to even comfort you (i dont think he’ll be that affectionate and just date for the thrill of it or just so he could have you as a personal test subject, but he’s hot) he’ll sit you on his lap and kiss you on your neck while he listens to your problem.
he also loves your neck sm, like when youre at home and wearing something that reveals your neck, he’d come behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he kisses your neck softly.
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capitano
bro is majestic, passionate, and good at kissing ;)
i really like the thought of him being a big softie because!? why not!?!?!
whenever the two of you are cuddling, and your face is buried against his chest, he’s give you small head kisses or forehead kisses cuz he loves you sm.
kisses with a warning, “may i kiss you?” everytime he wants to. he’s a gentle man okay!?
daily forehead kisses from him <333
would have you sitting on his lap while yall make out 0_0
his arms or hand will always be on your waist no matter what.
insecure? of your face? your tummy?? don’t you worry dear, capitano is here to kiss it better <3
would kiss your insecurities away while sweet talking to you.
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childe
PDA
no shame at all T-T in front of the other harbingers? yeah, definitely would kiss you out of no where to piss everyone off.
make out sessions 3x a day just like a meal fr (HELP THIS IS SO FUNNY)
love love love loves to hugs you so tight while you kiss.
he admires capitano so just like him, he loves having you on his lap while making out too, with his hand on your waist.
bites your lower lip whenever he gets cheeky.
sleepy kisses on the neck/chest whenever you cuddle and he’s the little spoon and forehead/head kisses whenever he’s the big spoon <3
just loves kissing you everywhere and anywhere in general tbh.
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al haitham
unlike childe, he likes to keep it lowkey.
holding hands under the table while the two of you study together, stealing kisses whenever no one’s looking.
but his personal favorite is kissing you at the library behind the big bookshelves whenever the two of you are alone.
holding you on the neck softly while he pecks your lips several times with a small smile on his face.
whenever he gets jealous of your mates, he would simply just steal you away from them and take you somewhere the two of you could be alone and just… make out.
kaveh isn’t new to catching the two of you in act, in fact he’s caught the two of you more than he could count by his fingers. and he’s tired of it T-T bro feels very single.
the first time was when you and al haitham are left in a classroom and your arms were wrapped around his neck and his around your waist.
“what the… fuck did i just walk in to??”
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THIS TOOK SOSOSOSOSOSOSO LONG IM SO SORRY T-T BUT NOW I HAVE OVER 80+ FOLLOWERS OMGG THANKYOUGUYS SM I LOVELOVELOVELOVEYOU ALL ISTG anyways this took too long but i rushed it T-T im sorry nonny </3 pls send more requests so i could busy myself because were having a week long break <33
MASTERLIST
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mandoposting · 3 years
Note
🕴for the oc ask game!!
🕴what kind of embarrassing phase did they go through?
Rift - ~Edgy lone wolf phase~
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Hacksaw - Obsessed with Coruscanti Hyperpop
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Puck - "Camo" paint job
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Aran - Stanning Pre Vizsla
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??? - Jedi Fanboy™
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more detail under the cut!
oc ask meme but its utter chaos
Rift - ~Edgy lone wolf phase~
With the nature of being a commando, he often found himself working alone or with relatively small squads.
This gave him a bit of a Complex and while he's not as Shadow the Hedgehog as he was, he's still working on being less self reliant.
Thanks goodness he moved to the 117th, those colours make him look like an angry teletubby.
Hacksaw - Obsessed with Coruscanti Hyperpop
What can he say, it just slaps.
He followed the latest charts obsessively and once almost got tickets to see his favourite band live but they moved off-world before the date of the concert.
He still knows loads of lyrics and if you listen while he's doing menial tasks, he's probably singing them under his breath.
Puck - "Camo" paint job
Early into his deployment, Puck decided he needed to be more ~stealth~
So he took it upon himself and painted his armor.
Needless to say he's not allowed near paint anymore.
Aran - Stanning Pre Vizsla
Listen.
He doesn't like the New Mandalorians. And Jaster Mereel has been out of the picture for a hot second. Can you blame him?
Needless to say, after learning more about the actions of Death Watch he moved past this phase.
??? - Jedi Fanboy™
All clones have a certain level of respect and awe for Jedi, but he was on another level.
He consumed every available resource on Jedi in the Kaminoan databases. He had picked out his lightsaber colour and fighting form.
His batchmates bullied it out of him (affectionate), but he still retains a certain level of fascination.
Taglist: @ct-9904, @xviii-themoon, @twisted-falcon, @findhimfives, @the-dreamy-space, @fake-fullbuster, @parkotedarasuum, @beckettsmeckett, @icanbringyouincold, @limeyartspinningtales, @persaloodles, @dilfyoda, @dagobahbound, @howie-ner-cyare, @moon-khat, @ahsoka1, @craziest-in-the-guild,
@1-or-a-0 dm/send me an ask if you’d like to be added/removed :)
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lpham2525 · 2 years
Text
An Almost Proposal
***This is my longest post yet so grab a beverage of choice and a plushie to keep your company. It's going to be a long, long read.
[LOID and FRANKY are having an intense discussion at an outdoor café. YOR is out running errands when she sees them.] 
LOID (to FRANKY): I already told you I tried thinking of over 800 ways to do it but... 
LOID: *sighs, heavy-hearted* 
LOID: None of them seem good enough.  
LOID: *fiddles with small velvet box in his gloved hand* 
LOID: What if she doesn’t even like it? 
FRANKY: *spots YOR walking over to them* 
FRANKY: Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s heading our way now. 
LOID: What— 
YOR: Loid! Franky! Imagine running into you two here! 
LOID: Yor!  
LOID: *quickly stuffs his hands in his pockets* 
LOID: What...what are you doing here? 
FRANKY: Is that any way to greet your wife? 
LOID: Shut up, Franky. 
YOR: Is Loid mad at me? What if they were talking about something important? What if they...don’t want me here? 
YOR: I...I just dropped off Anya at Becky’s house and decided to run some errands before going home. I-I hope I’m not interrupting anything. 
FRANKY: Oh no, not at all. We were just bouncing around some ideas... 
FRANKY: *glances sideways at LOID, a sly glint in his eye* 
FRANKY: As a matter of fact, we would love to hear your opinion on something... 
LOID: *blanches* 
FRANKY: *ignores LOID’s frantic hand signals from behind YOR* 
YOR: Sure, I’d be happy to help. 
FRANKY: Great! What Loid wants to know is— 
LOID: *about to have a heart attack* 
LOID: Nothing! It’s nothing! 
FRANKY: Oh, it’s something all right. It’s definitely something.  
LOID: *looks at FRANKY murderously* 
FRANKY: *ignores LOID* 
FRANKY: He wants to know what’s the best way to propose to someone.  
YOR: Propose? Propose what? 
LOID & FRANKY: 0_0 
LOID: Thank God my wife is so innocent... 
FRANKY: Propose... 
FRANKY: …marriage.  
YOR: Oh! That! Of course!  
YOR: *laughs nervously* 
FRANKY: He’s asking for a friend, of course, seeing as how he’s already married to you. 
YOR: He’s asking for a friend? Is the friend...you? 
FRANKY: *full-body shock* 
LOID: What’s THAT look for? 
FRANKY: *clasps YOR’s hand as tears stream down his face* 
FRANKY: Yor, you think...you think I can get a woman to marry me someday? 
YOR: Why, of course I do! You’re going to make some lucky lady very happy someday.  
FRANKY: Oh, Yor, that’s the most confidence anyone’s had in me since...well, ever... 
LOID: *cuts in between them and snatches YOR’s hand back* 
LOID: That’s quite enough of that. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ in whispers ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
LOID: That’s my wife’s hand you’re holding! 
FRANKY: *grins toothily* 
FRANKY: Someone is in a little too deep. 
LOID: I am not! It’s only because...if someone sees Yor holding hands with another man, they might get the wrong idea... 
FRANKY: Yeah, sure. That's the reason you’re so anxious to take her back. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end whispers~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
FRANKY: So, Yor, what do you think? How would you want someone to propose to you?  
LOID: You don’t have to answer that, Yor. 
LOID: Although I wouldn’t mind the inspiration... 
YOR: No, I want to help. 
YOR: *thinks hard, then brightens* 
YOR: The best way to propose to someone is... 
LOID & FRANKY: *leaning in eagerly* 
YOR: With respect! 
LOID & FRANKY: ... 
LOID & FRANKY: WHAT.  
FRANKY: *recovers first, then thumps LOID on the back* 
FRANKY: Well, there you have it, Loid! The best way to propose to someone! It’s so obvious I wonder why we didn’t think of it ourselves! 
LOID: *deflated* 
LOID: Yes, of course...It was...staring me in the face...the whole time... 
FRANKY: Now you can go tell this...friend...of yours the best way to propose to his lady love. 
LOID: I will. Erm, thanks, Yor.  
YOR: You're welcome. Anything I can do to help!  
LOID: Well, I think we’re done here so why don’t I walk home with you? 
YOR: Are you sure? You two looked like you were having a good time. I just wanted to stop by and say hello. 
LOID: No, I’m sure.  
YOR: All right then. It was nice to see you again, Franky. Come by and visit us sometime. 
FRANKY: Oh, I will. I’m waiting on some good news that should be coming very, very soon, and when it does...I’ll swing by to celebrate. 
YOR: Please do. 
LOID: *grimaces as he tips his hat* 
LOID: Franky. 
FRANKY: *gives LOID a cheeky grin and two thumbs up* 
[As soon as YOR and LOID turn their backs, FRANKY shakes his head.] 
FRANKY: Sheesh. That guy’s got his work cut out for him. 
LOID: *walks home with YOR, hands still stuffed in his pockets* 
LOID: So what did she mean by that? Was that code for something? No, of course not. She didn’t even know we were talking about her. But that means her answer didn’t give away anything at all! I still don’t know how I’m going to do this. I’m back at square one. 800 ideas and nothing to show for it! Come on, think, Twilight. Surely you can do better than this! If only I could come across some clue... 
YOR: Um...Loid? 
LOID: *stops abruptly, causing YOR to trip. He reaches out a hand to steady her* 
LOID: What? Oh no. Was she saying something? Was I ignoring her this whole time? Does she find me inattentive? Uncaring? Or worse, a...a horrible husband?! I knew it! She’s mad at me now. Well, she has every right to be. I’ve been so preoccupied that I can’t even take the time to listen to her when we’re together. All right, pull yourself together, Twilight. You can do this. You can�� 
LOID: Ahem. Yes, Yor?  
YOR: Er...while I think it’s very sweet that you held my hand for this entire walk and you even kept it in your pocket to keep me warm, you...you’ve been fidgeting a lot. I’m worried that you’ll wear a hole in your pocket and the other thing you have in there will fall out. 
LOID: *freezes as the color drains from his face* 
LOID: I’m still holding YOR’s hand?! Please don’t tell me that I put her hand in the same pocket as... 
[LOID forces himself to look. His heart plummets. He pulls their intertwined hands out of his pocket, leaving the velvet box in there.]
LOID: Yes, well. I apologize. I was thinking very hard about this...friend of mine and how I was going to use your idea to help him. However, I can do that later. Right now, I should be listening to what you’re saying. 
YOR: Oh no, I wasn’t saying anything! I was very much enjoying our walk together. I’m just worried since you seem so tense. If...if this isn’t overstepping bounds, how about you tell me a little more about your friend’s situation and I’ll see if I can do anything further to help. 
[LOID thinks for a moment, then pulls YOR over to a nearby bench. They sit and LOID takes off his hat, twirling it on his free hand.] 
LOID: There’s not much to say, really. My friend has been with his lady for a while now. Neither one of them was looking for a serious relationship in the beginning and honestly, he’s surprised it’s lasted this long. However, what surprises him even more is...what developed during their time together. At first, spending time with her baffled him. She was so unlike anyone he’d ever met that it took time for him to figure her out. 
LOID: *bows his head, chuckling wryly*  
LOID: To be fair, he still doesn’t have her figured out. But he likes that, in a way. It keeps things interesting, keeps him on his toes. And there’s other things about her, too. Qualities that caught him off-guard, but things that he wouldn’t give up for the world and now can’t live without: her selflessness, her strength, her tenacity...and her tenderness.  
LOID: *moves YOR’s hand onto his knee, absently tracing her fingers with his thumb* 
LOID: And they work so well together. When he has trouble with something, she encourages him and teaches him, presenting new perspectives. When she struggles, he does what he can to support her and be there for her. It’s not every day that people find someone who complements them like that.  
LOID: *leans back into the bench and looks up at the sky which was turning a rosy hue* 
LOID: I guess that’s why he wants everything to be perfect. He wants to show her that even though their relationship wasn’t supposed to be serious at first, now he wants to prove that he’s never been more serious about anything in his life...than making their relationship real. And making it last.  
YOR: She sounds like a very special lady. 
LOID: She is... 
LOID: *bolts upright* 
LOID: I mean, from what I hear! From my friend! 
YOR: *giggles* 
YOR: And your friend sounds like he’s found his match. 
LOID: *glances at their interlaced fingers* 
LOID: That he has. 
YOR: *squeezes LOID’s hand* 
LOID: *looks up at YOR, surprised at the look in her eyes* 
YOR: Loid, I don’t know this friend of yours, but I know you. I know how intelligent and talented and creative you are. I know how hard you try. I know how much you want to help. The fact that you’re so worried about your friend tells me how much you care. However, if you carry on like this, you’re going to worry yourself to death and then you won’t be able to help your friend at all! So I want you to do something for me. 
LOID: W-what is it? 
LOID: YOR never asks for anything... 
YOR: I want you to believe in yourself. Believe in yourself the way Anya and I believe in you. Believe that you can and will help your friend. Believe that everything will work out. I know it will because I know you. I know you can do anything. 
LOID: *stares at YOR as a strange feeling washes over him, YOR’s words baptizing him in her unshakable faith, momentarily absolving him of the anxiety, fear, and stress he’s suppressed for so many years* 
YOR: Loid, are you...okay? 
[LOID’s hand goes limp and his hat falls from his fingers.] 
YOR: Loid! Your hat! Here, let me... 
YOR: *catches LOID’s hat just before it hits the ground. She holds it out to him, but he doesn’t move* 
YOR: Loid? Please say something. 
LOID: *unable to speak because he’s fighting every instinct to get down on one knee and propose to her right then and there. Instead, he leans forward and kisses her forehead* 
YOR: What...what was that for? 
LOID: For being my special lady.
YOR: O-oh... 
LOID: *takes the hat and places it back on his head, then pulls YOR to her feet* 
LOID: Come on, Yor. Let’s go home.  
YOR: O-okay.  
LOID: Only this time... 
YOR: Yes? 
LOID: Let me hold your other hand. 
LOID: *takes YOR’s other hand and places it in his other pocket, then walks home with one hand holding onto his wife and the other hand holding onto a small velvet box, hoping to join the two someday soon* 
***Special thanks to Nick Offerman for the inspiration. And yes, I mean THAT Nick Offerman. The Ron Swanson guy. Who’s married to Karen Walker. If you don’t know who any of those people are, please Google them. I promise you it will be worth your time. 
554 notes · View notes
clichesadmusic · 3 years
Text
Ranboo Lore Recap May 22nd
This was so good man, I was on the literal edge of my seat the entire time, I could barley keep up with my notes lmao. (For the record most of the quotes, especially the long ones are not exact, I took out some of the stuff Ranboo repeated just for ease of typing it out as he said it)
Ranboo opens the stream with new music (chat said that it was from Night in the Woods)
Ranboo decides that today he is going to be moving all of his “lab equipment” to the “table”. (but that he is not going to lick the table). He says that with it moved he will be able to do so much more with it.
Ranboo says that he went back and explored the library a little bit, saying that he looked at it a bit but that he can’t read some of it.
Ranboo mines a block behind one of his chests revealing another chest that contains a book and quill named “experiment log” in ender.
Ranboo says that the particles don’t have to worry about what is in the experiment log.
There is also a chest beside Ranboos door that says “Mail For Ranboo From Foolish”. Inside the chest is a signed book (by FoolishG) named “HELP RANBOO”. The book contains a complaint from Foolish about the enderment “littering” around his summer home (probably placing blocks in places) and a request for Ranboo to ask them to stop.
Ranboo says “I have no control over those guys Foolish”.
Ranboo brings a bunch of iron blocks, coal, a dispenser, arrows, glass, the experiment log, his trident and brewing stands.
Ranboo looks for the coordinates of the “table” and checks his memory book to see what he wrote yesterday. (He then almost left without the brewing stands and had to go back to get those as well as glass bottles, saying that he didn't need to get anything to put in them because “we don’t use potions”.)
Ranboo says that he will maybe show the particles the book later saying he doubts they could even understand what is in the book. (potentially written in ender in which case, check-mate Mr Boo, I know how to read that :P)
Ranboo decides to disclose parts about the experiments that he want to do saying that “this table is different from the other table, so I’m not gonna try to touch the table that much but the area around it I’m going to kinda move and transform”. He then mentions that he knows there are “different things” about him being an enderman (“that’s what it’s called here right?” implying that there is a different name for them that Ranboo remembers).
Ranboo goes to describe what the experiments are going to be but quickly backtracks, instead explaining what he is going to be making for the experiments.
A water tank. The ‘potions’. And something else that involves the dispenser.
Based on his theories he believes that doing these experiments could be ‘different’. (either make a difference or have different results than they did before because of him being near the ‘table’).
Ranboo explains that he has to mine the room, re-build it and that he wants to make sure that he doesn’t want to change the ‘table’ that much.
The particles talk quite a bit about how the water is bad/how they don’t like the idea of the water tank but Ranboo continuously explains that they don’t know what it’s for, that it’s not what they think it is.
Ranboo says that he has hit a wall with the experiments but that it could be different by the table. He theorizes this partially because of his axe acting differently.
“I know exactly what experiments I’m going to do. It’s gonna be perfect.”
Ranboo reassures the particles that none of the experiments actually hurt, saying that the only way water could really hurt him would be if he was fully submerged with no armor on (“when am I ever in a situation like that” 0_0) but besides that it just makes him a little scared.
A particle asks (via dono) if they can stay during the experiments this time and Ranboo reluctantly agrees but says that he is still not showing them the inside of the book.
A different particle says (via dono) that they don’t really like the enderwalk that much, that it scares them, and Ranboo respons that he has kind of changed his attitude towards the enderwalk after the experiments and his findings, saying that it doesn’t seem that bad, once again stating that it is because of the enderwalk and the experiments that he is able to understand and talk to the particles.
Ranboo explains that he started the experiments in an effort to stop the enderwalk but then he realised what it could do, that it is “incredible”. “The stuff that it can actually do...it's good. It could help me out a ton”.
(Ranboo cuts the music here) “I honestly think that if this goes well it could get rid of my memory problems. Cause I've been able to remember a little bit more. I was able to remember an entire language after it (the ender language), so honestly, I think it will be good. I think it can help with that. And that means I won’t have to worry about remembering all the time. I still don’t know what exactly I do...but I mean I dont think it’s as bad as we initially thought at all, I think that it can be a good thing. I think it’s changed. I’ve been able to figure out a bit of what it was and it's really interesting. I think it’ll be fine because even if what I remember is bad at least I’ll know. I’d prefer to know and feel guilty about it than not know and feel guilty about something I don’t know if it happened. I don't think anything too bad could happen. I think understanding what I do and how I work is the good part. I want to understand everything that I do”
Ranboo finally reaches the hole he dug to get out of the ‘table room’ the day before. He proceeds to mine out the walls and floor (leaving the staircase up to the portal and the blocks surrounding the pools of lava in the corners and the pool of lava under the portal alone) and replaces them with iron blocks “because it’s a strong material”. He also leaves the iron bars in the wall as well as the ceiling but cites this as being more for conservation of time and materials rather than for the same reason he is leaving the other sections alone.
“I think that after today I might be able to remember everything.”
He creates a 3 tall, 1 wide water tank out of glass in the corner with stairs leading up to it. He places the brewing stands beside one of the smaller lava pools and places water bottles in them though he doesn’t have any gunpowder to make splash water.
Ranboo says that while the room looks bad now he plans to make it look better as time goes on, talking about how the room is so interesting, specifically looking at the endstone underneath the portal blocks.
He goes to grab redstone, saying that he has a theory and that if this works it will be “really really cool”.
Ranboo begins to set up a dispenser saything that “what they call enderman here cannot be damaged by arrows.” He sets up a lever a couple blocks away that will trigger the dispenser to shoot an arrow while he is standing in front of it. Ranboo theorizes that he might be able to “get out of the way of them in time” citing that fact that he became able to pick up grass blocks and talk to the particles.
Ranboo examines the eye of ender for a moment, questioning why it is inside the block and why it is only in that one and none of the others.
Ranboo reassures the chat that all of these experiments are 100% harmless and that he is doing this because he believes that the enderwalk has unseen pros. Once again mentioning that he got some enderman powers like picking up grass.
Ranboo says that he was reaching a barrier with his other experiments but believes the ‘table’ to be the key to breaking through that wall.
Ranboo grabs a chest and places a bunch of random things in it (iron blocks, glass, etc.) as well as the experimentation log.
Ranboo hesitates….”is this the right decision though? I do want to be able to remember,,,but at the same time I’m also very tired about just like… Is this a good idea? On one hand it can help me remember, it can help me do other things…You know what I realised, something very scary is that the enderwalk isn’t a different version of me, it’s still me, but from what I gathered it’s me with all of my memories, every single one. So who knows what could have happened, there could have been an entire other story that I’m not aware of *thunder crash*.”
Ranboo thinks that there is the potential to get rid of the enderwalk completely but isn’t sure. He explains that it pains him to think about, that he can either live the way he is now (not knowing anything about his past etc.) or he can live knowing everything. “Do I want to keep living this way, in a way that’s blissful ignorance, or do I want to know everything that’s happened?” Ultimately, he doesn’t know what to do.
“I don’t have to, I could just stop doing the experiments and just live normally.”
Ranboo grans the experiment log and holds it in his hand for a moment before opening it to the first page of forty-three, it reads (in ender) (timestamp 57:18):
Purpose of Experimentation:
-To understand
-To learn
-To remember
For a moment he contemplates signing it but ultimately closes the book, unsigned and places it back in the chest.
“In those 43 pages one of the pages does have, has had, the solution. *thunder*. But the thing is...I don’t know what it could do. On one hand it could get rid of it [the enderwalk] completely, that means I would lose all of what I didn’t know before but the other ending would be that the enderwalk is the only thing. I don't know which one it will be. I’ve had the solution for a while now, but it could either be good or unknown and that’s the thing…”
Ranboo then reveals that he has tricked the particles. That these were not just random experiments. Today Ranboo was planning on solving it, he thought that he needed the particles there to do it. He didn’t need gunpowder to create splash potions because he didn’t need to splash it. He was going to use the arrow then walk into the water tank and doing that would be the solution. But he doesn’t know what the outcome will be.
Ranboo knows what he has to do. He leaves the room, blocking it up with stone saying that he will only use this as a last resort if something happens. He begins to walk up the tunnel to the surface but pauses, reiterating that if something happens he will “use the solution. But only if something happens”.
He makes his way up to the surface, staring out over the horizon. “Only if something happens”.
Ranboo says “welp”, claps, and the stream ends. (He did not do an outro saying goodbye, on his twitter he explained that this is canonical what actual happens to the particles, they are just suddenly sent away)
(Ranboo never turned the music back on).
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luki-fanfic · 3 years
Text
Helluva Boss 5: The Harvest Moon Festival
Huh, Helluva Boss usually drops by mid month. Wonder why this episode is taking so long to put toget-
*Episode airs*
0_0
Oh. That’s why.
I’ll admit it, my interest in HB was waning. Episode 3 and 4 honestly didn’t do much to keep me interested. Spring Broken had a lot of plot and writing issues, and I felt the concept could have been better executed. C.H.E.R.U.B was more solid, but did have some issues, and just wasn’t that fun to watch.
Harvest Moon on the other hand? Oh boy, now there’s an episode. I am, if you’ll pardon the pun, back on this horse. World building, the action scenes, incredible animation, relationship development of the bad kind, more worlds, interesting characters! It gives us so much to work with.
Spoilers abound, so read carefully.
That said, I will start this with my biggest complaint – and it’s one I’ve had for several episodes, but this one really rammed it home due to the ‘sneak peak’ clip we had of the opening. In the black and white boards, the swearing was limited, and honestly the writing was pretty witty. Then we got the finished product – certain lines were missing, and several words had been replaced with random swearing. Considering what the scene was, it felt like the finished product was a step down – I really wish the scriptwriters would realise random swearing isn’t always funny, and they’ve given proof that their writing is snappy as is.
Anyway...onto the actual episode. We learn that I.M.P seems to be building up their business as Blitzø has 15 clients looking for a kill. Considering he had to do a sale to get a multiple kill, and the other episodes show him basically going out straight after getting the job, they’re clearly building up a name for themselves.
This is further shown with the arrival of Striker, who compliments his decision to go into business for himself, since most Imps don’t. This is new information, since we’ve seen Wally attempt to start his own business – although clearly it wasn’t going well – but if Striker is to be believed, most companies in Hell, even Imp City, don’t have Imps as the owners. Maybe it’s a financial capital thing, maybe it’s partially Hell’s racism, or maybe Imps just generally prefer to follow, which Striker seems to allude later. It’s hard to say with the information we’ve got at this point, but it does put I.M.P in a slightly different light – and probably explains why Blitzø is fairly incompetent when it comes to running the whole thing. He has literally no one to ask or use as an example, and the society he lives in generally assumes he’s going to fail by the nature of him being an Imp.
In fact, even though Blitzø owns I.M.P, he is still completely dependent on Stolas and his Grimoire. Without it, I.M.P is screwed – the reason they’re even at the Harvest Festival is because they can’t work. And that’s what Striker tells him in the final act. Their society has made sure that he can never truly be successful on his own merit, no matter how hard he tries.
I’ve seen some debate on whether what Striker told Blitzø was true or just an attempt to let his guard down. It’s hard to say, because Striker says and does some very conflicting things, but I’m going to believe it was genuine. Why?
He lets Millie and Moxxie live to have leverage over him. He does insult Blitzø to their faces, but why would he need leverage once his job was done?
When Moxxie learns the truth, he doesn’t even try to talk him round, just kill him. Millie is also tossed to the side – possibly because neither of them are ‘superior.' Blitzø gets a full on speech about their superiority and how much he respects him, even if he’s hiding a knife in his tail for if he can’t talk him round.
When he has Blitzø on the ground at his mercy, he doesn’t mock him. Instead, he tells him he genuinely thought they’d be a good team. He had the advantage, but doesn’t take the chance to continue the insult.
Like most Imps, Striker seems to dislike the demon royalty, but at the end of the day, is also working for one (and can I say that twist was brilliantly well done? It made SO much sense but I honestly didn’t see it coming). What is his end goal? Is he envious that Blitzø has some kind of power of Stolas while he has to be obedient? Is he aiming to kill Stella once Stolas is down? Maybe opening an assassination business to take out anything Overlord and above? We just don’t know.
And with that, we’ll step off this train of thought to speak about something else very important in this episode. Stolas. Specifically his relationship with Blitzø, and precisely how wrong it is.
I admit it, I future-shipped them, especially thanks to the Instagram (which become a bit of a bait and switch when the insta-accounts were declared ‘non-canon’). I acknowledged that the relationship was problematic and needed some serious work on both sides before it could really be a functioning relationship, but this episode hammered home exactly how much needs to happen in a way the other episodes didn’t. The pilot and Murder Family treated Stolas as a gag, and then Loo Loo Land made us all care about him and his actions. But Harvest Moon showed the other side of it, and I'm not sure the ship can realistically recover.
Stolas considers Imps as inferior, to a ridiculous degree, and Blitzø is no exception. He has absolutely no respect for Blitzø, and holds all the power in the relationship. We saw this a little in the previous episodes, but they were either alone, or Blitzø was working for him, and surrounded by people aware of the relationship. His actions could be somewhat explained away.
In Harvest Moon, Stolas proves he treats Blitzø this way even in public. Blitzø has very obvious issues regarding his name, so Stolas persistently using a nickname and treating him the way he does around people who aren’t aware, says a lot about how much Stolas doesn’t care about Blitzø’s opinions. Even if Blitzø does have some feelings for him – which I do suspect due to his panicked attempt to explain it as transactional. If he didn’t care, he would probably find it easier to explain. At the same time though, he’d be happier if he could get the book without the monthly visits, because what he has with Stolas isn’t a relationship, no matter what Stolas tries to pretend. Any feelings Blitzø develops puts him even further under his control.
Part of me wonders if the relationship evolved between the pilot and the first episode in planning, and that’s why we have such a disconnect between the Insta relationship and the canon one. I’m really hoping the series addresses it in the future.
Finally, lets talk about that final reveal. Stella has hired a hitman to kill Stolas – even armed him with two angel-tech guns.
(Which, also finally gives us confirmation that Imps/Hellhounds/Succubi can die from conventional weapons, but the higher ranked native demons need angel weaponry to off them).
Stella is also confident enough to scream it over the dinner table. Stolas either doesn’t care, or isn’t paying attention – if he doesn’t care, if definitely puts his motives regarding the original invite up in the air, but if he isn’t paying attention? Then it’s another point in the anti-Stolas tab.
That said, this scenario does ask a question. Why don’t these two divorce? Stolas is clearly not in love any more, and living together clearly isn’t doing Octavia’s mental health any favours if she’s literally hiding behind her music rather than interact with her parents. He should be the first to offer a divorce, but he hasn’t brought it up. And if he hasn’t, maybe the reason Stella hasn’t is because they can’t?
It’s generally assumed that the two of them have an arranged marriage, and that Stella’s anger at his relationship with Blitzø is due to his status more than the cheating. But then wouldn’t it make more sense to hire a hitman to kill Blitzø rather than Stolas? Choosing to kill Stolas, even if it would hurt Octavia, suggests it’s the only option left to her.
I’m guessing we’ll (finally) get some Stella development next time Striker appears, and get an idea of what makes her tick. But for now, I suspect the two of them regularly had lovers on the side, but kept it discreet until this point. Stolas refusing to keep his relationship with Blitzø quiet is causing untold damage to their name and status. Stella wants rid of a man who not only doesn’t love her (if he ever did), but is constantly humiliating her for not hiding his much lower class lover (which we know by this episode he doesn’t even attempt), and since the rules of Hell for demons of their status doesn’t allow divorce (or perhaps their arrangement doesn’t), assassination it is.
Hell, maybe the plan was to kill Stolas, and frame Blitzø for it. Striker clearly knew about their relationship before they met (which should have been a red flag now that I thing about it), so Stella probably mentioned him. It would also put the recruiting on another level, if Striker actually did get Blitzø involved at the final moment and teamed up.
Oh, and as a final amendment? If that angel-gun that Striker left behind is not now in the hands of I.M.P and becomes a key piece when Asmodeus, Mammon and the real Fizzarolli show up? I will be very disappointed.
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selsprompts · 4 years
Text
Who’s the best boyfie?
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Insight; This is literally a shit post idk what this is okay- I basically wanted to do some boyfriend headcanons with my best boys Kuroo and Bokuto because why not??
This is literally all over the place pls don’t come for me.
Characters; Tetsurō Kuroo & Kōtarō Bokuto 
Warnings; cursing & erm there’s implied smut so read at your own risk mkay ghouls and gals tyty
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Kuroo<3
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oh gosh my favourite boy!!
Lots of hugs and kisses regardless of where you are this mf does not CARE.
but will be respectful infront of elders (ofc)
Loves to mark you up (hickeys ect)
He is definitely a physical boyfriend in every sense of the word
He comes off as the blunt type, definitely won’t beat around the bush when he wants something from you but will tease.
“Kitten, stop doing your work and come cuddle with me”
“Not right now Tetsurou”
“You’ve been studying for 3 hours just take a break”
“Oh yeah and do what?”
“I mean that chair looks a little uncomfortable, I have a better one right here”
Cocky bitch 101
You’ll be like ???
And he’ll be smirking licking his lips and then you catch his drift because he meant his face.
Soz back to cute stuff I’m—
He likes to buy you over the top things for special occasions.
this doesn’t mean he doesnt buy you things for non-special occasions.
it means that he puts more effort into Christmas, birthday and anniversary gifts.
Like this guy is ALWAYS doing the most just to show you how special you are no matter how much you think you aren’t.
He loves you to death and loves to show you off.
Shows you off infront of his friends especially so they can get jealous.
“Oya Oya that’s my baby, you look so good today”
“Yeah, yeah I know”
“Oh you know?”
“Yes?”
“You hear that Kenma? Y/n ALREADY knows!!”
Kenma is like 0_0 but he will compliment you saying you look nice
Kuroo likes to spend lunch with you, basically any of his spare time outside of vollyball and studying, that time is reserved for you.
It doesn’t bother him much because he sees his friends during classes and majority of them are in vollyball anyways.
WILL. FLIRT. WITH. YOU. IN. CLASS.
He will send you notes and purposely tease you (maybe try to get you in trouble)
“Hey y/n take the note”
“nO Kuroo I’m going to get in trouble”
“Come I’m just this one time-”
“KUroo no-”
“Excuse me, Mr/Ms Y/n, am I interrupting your conversation?”
“No Miss”
“Mmm”
“I’m gonna kill you Kuroo”
“ehehe”
Now he can tell you about how you need to be punished later for making such a big mistake.
Kuroo is top. He will switch if that’s what you really want but majority of the time he’s top.
Kuroos way or the fucking highway 8)
Type of bf to text you at 2am asking to FaceTime till he falls asleep and you comply
Sends you memes that you two can laugh about next time you see eachother.
Sends futuristic memes (as in things that would happen in the future between you to)
*Marriage memes*
Loves to help you do whatever you need.
He hates seeing you struggle when it’s not underneath him
Makes fun of your height if you’re shorter than him CONSTANTLY
“Hey short stuff, how’s the grass?”
if you’re taller he will be lowkey jealous that he has to look up to you.
“Hey, if it isn’t my long legged kitty, come down from up there”
Loves you regardless of what you look like honestly.
Loves you for the mindset you have and the person YOU ARE.
Kuroo is the type to fall INLOVE with someone’s way of life and how they choose to live it.
King shit all the time pls you are his King/Queen.
You ARE royalty in his eyes and deserve nothing but the best, no more no less.
Will reassure his love when need be. It’s cute because he doesn’t do it often.
10/10 boyfriend will definitely share the bed.
You’re usually little spoon but when he’s cranky and loses a match, he won’t say it but you’ll just know that he wants to be held so you be the big spoon:’)
Bokuto<3
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okay off the bat this MF IS SO HYPER MY GOD-
will want your attention 24/7.
always has to make sure you’re safe.
he’s so cute when you ignore him purposely especially over text,
“Hey baby”
*read*
“Helloooo y/n”
*read*
“noe what did I do pls tell me🥺”
babie hotline 101.
wbk he super emo so when you do stuff like that he’s in babie mode.
will always answer your texts ASAP.
V supportive of anything you do 100%.
He is the physical boyfriend but is a tiny bit more modest in public and likes to keep it respectful infront of elders/superiors.
Loves to hug you from behind so he can pop his head on your shoulder and look at you from the side like ;).
he will say he loves you all the time just cause he wants you to know.
this goes for in person and over text,
“Hey y/n”
“Yeah Bokuto?”
“I love you”
“That was random”
“I know but I just want you to know how I feel right now”
“I love you too goofball”
“Hehe”
WILL HEHE WHEN YOU COMPLIMENT HIM PLS HE SNICKERS ALL THE TIME AND BLUSHES.
Loves to give affection however he can.
This means he’ll bring flowers during lunch or whatever just to surprise you to see the look on your face.
Loves sharing food with you because he gets to feed you.
Same when you’re sick he will be babying you.
Bokuto is a switch so he’s moody no doubt about it for when he wants you on top.
He can be v dominant when you see him after a match he lost or if he’s very hype.
Will go into “whos the best fucking player mm?” mode in the bedroom 0_0.
Loves when you pull his hair WHEHE.
Loves to do matching outfits sometimes lowkey.
Also LOVES LOVES LOVES to show you off infront of literally everyone???
Akaashi is like ok chile.
He thinks your relationship is good for bokuto because he’s not up his ass all the time and he doesn’t have to deal with the emo king.
Loves to kiss you on the forehead during romantic moments.
He feels that it symbolizes more affection then a kiss on the lips sometimes.
He also kisses you by grabbing you with both hands by the face.
Super passionate kisser literally out of a movie scene.
Likes sending memes of like everything dedass, especially shows you watch together which is ALSO a lot.
Will name a star after himself and tell you that ‘whenever you look up at the sky you can find me’
Super cute gifts.
Bokuto has a type.
It’s the incredibly cute kind.
He needs someone to match his uwu energy.
He loves you for your ambition and strive.
This is because he feels the same way about vollyball so when he sees you being so driven with something it reminds him of himself.
Loves your personality more than anything.
You’re probably always big spoon because babie hello unless he’s like ok protective owl time.
If you’re short he loves to throw you over his shoulder and run around with you.
“Babe not again”
“But WHYYYYY it was so fun last time”
“FOR YOU! I was being carried around like a dead CHICKEN”
“A CUTE DEAD CHICKEN!”
“I- bokuto”
If you’re tall he will dedass ask you to do blocks for him even if you don’t play vollyball... there is no choice.
Tall jokes 24/7.
“How’s the weather up there mm?”
“Shut up bokuto”
“Mhm just don’t get hit by any birds”
“-_-”
Boyfriend status again 10/10 but will pull the wholeass sheet off of you and when you yell at him he will tell you to ‘get closer then’.
It’s really a preference at this point.
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Hey guys, I apologize for this long awaited post. I’ve had this in my drafts for forever and I haven’t been feeling in the mood to write lately but I hope this is good!
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ok so i have a hc (two technically) that would explain rodney's hatred of doof (and doof's dislike of monogram): Heinz and Rodney dated in highschool after being best childhood friends, but they broke it off before the graduated and have hated eachother ever since. similarly, doof and monogram dated in college, neither knwoing about the other's job, so when monogram found out he was dating a villain and visa versa, he broke it off completely. just wanted to tell someone this, sorry to bother you
YESSSS MONOGRAM X HEINZ IS MY SHIT 
okay now that i’ve gotten that out of the way, here’s an actual semi-coherent response (but not before I tell you that you are not bothering me at all and I live for other people’s headcanons and just general thoughts on the show and I was super excited to see this ask)
it occurred to me midway through the next paragraph that this is all dependent on when Heinz started evil science, and that I can’t really finish writing this without an idea of when that might have happened, so I’m gonna kinda think “out loud” for a second. Absolutely nothing in this paragraph is important if y’all wanna skip it, but I figured I’d throw my thoughts out there anyway because, like, that’s what I do lol. We know he’s been building inators since he was a kid, but that at least his first inator wasn’t evil. We know he wasn’t serious about becoming the ruler of anything during his date with Linda, whenever that happened. We know he’s tried other things, from painting to poetry, before deciding on evil. We know he bought a $15 degree in evil science online, but that he did go to school for it because he had that one professor whose name I can never spell and that I’m too lazy to google. Was he interested in evil when he was in high school? Was Rodney interested in evil in high school? Part of me hopes they weren’t, just because I think it would be hilarious if they dated in high school as average people and then “reconnected” years later through evil science when it wasn’t even an interest they shared when they were together. I’m also interested in the logistics of their childhood friendship, because I absolutely love the idea of young Heinz having at least one person who likes him and understands him and who’s interested in building just like he is, and I have to imagine they both would have been ostracized for their love of building and inventing because Drusselstein is notorious for hating change and inventing is change. But how does that friendship transfer between countries? I can kinda see Rodney also being from Drusselstein, though I almost feel like he would have had to leave when he was younger than 16 because a) if he has an accent (which tbh I can’t tell with that voice lmao), it’s not as pronounced and b) he seems more cultured than Heinz in a way? Like I can’t really think of an example, but he just gives me the vibes of someone who’s been in America since he was younger -- even, like, 13 or 14, which could actually fit with the timeline if Rodney’s a year or two younger than him: Rodney left first, and Heinz was tricked by his family into following him a year or so later. They reconnect in high school and get together then. Idk, I feel like there’s a lot to think about there and I’m definitely gonna give it more thought because this is a really interesting concept. Anyways, side rant over and we’re back to where I was before I got sidetracked and put the side rant on top.
I’m not gonna lie: the idea of Heinz and Rodney dating has never occurred to me before, but now that you’ve said it I am living for it. I mean, there is absolutely no way they started hating each other so passionately without some sort of behind-the-scenes drama, and a lifelong friendship-turned-relationship gone sour would explain so much. I mean, this isn’t just your average breakup. It’s not even your average bad breakup. This sounds more like someone you thought would be a lifelong friend stabbing you in the back, and of course they would never let that go. I do find myself wondering what went wrong, though. They definitely treat each other like they think the other one wronged them, so whatever it was had to be a mutual thing. I’m open to hearing theories if anyone’s got any 👀
I love the idea of Monogram and Heinz dating in college. There’s definitely something going on with them, because I definitely can’t see Monogram paying attention to any other evil scientist as much as he does Heinz. I mean, he assigned his best agent to the guy and everything. I don’t know if Monogram actually went to college (?) because he did that stint at The Academy™ but I can lowkey see Monogram going to The Academy™ and Heinz going to Evil Science School™ and they meet somewhere (maybe The Academy™ sends their recruits to the local college for their pre-reqs and they met during calc class or something idk) and hit it off. I have absolutely no doubt that they would hit it off, either; that scene in Perry the Actorpus where they have a friendly conversation until Heinz accidentally starts saying something stupid comes to mind. They’re both very different kinds of stupid, but they’d complement each other. And now that I think about it, I kinda do hope they met while Monogram was at The Academy™ just because I think the absolute best kind of reveal that Heinz is evil would be him showing up in some capacity at The Academy™ (maybe the evil science majors take a group “field trip” to The Academy™ every year so both the evil science majors and The Academy™ recruits can learn about their natural enemies) and Heinz and Monogram just see each other and they’re like 0_0 Heinz would absolutely be willing to try to work around this (I mean, just look at how he treats Perry. The line between good and evil is very distinct, but he’s more than willing to ignore it) but Monogram would end things immediately, and that would break Heinz’s heart piss Heinz off so much that he would absolutely hold a grudge against Monogram for the rest of eternity, and Monogram would have a special focus on Heinz, too, just because of their history.
tl;dr I am in love with these headcanons and would absolutely be down for hearing more about them if you (or anyone else) has anything to add
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hainethehero · 4 years
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(This is just a shortened form of a fic that I'm currently writing, based on my Sterek post-link below!) https://hainethehero.tumblr.com/post/636769782067298304/currently-writing-a-fic-for-this-keep-your-eyes
Bike Boys
"I know all the guys come here hoping Kate would be the one to check their vehicles. But I'm sorry, she's not in today." the raven-haired mechanic offered, a small smile softening his handsomely rogue-ish features.
Stiles snorted, shaking his head as if to say everything was fine. "It's nothin' man," he remarks, feigning nonchalance in an effort to look cool. "I actually prefer men working on my... engine."
And he so did not mean for it to sound so creepy but it came out wrong anyway, making him cringe as the mechanic- Derek- smirks in amusement. It should totally be illegal, looking that good in dark jeans and a dumb t-shirt, a damp stain on the neck of said t-shirt. The man stared at him with pale green eyes that sparkled in the evening sun like some kind of enchanted lake. Again, Stiles wondered for the fifth time that day, Am I attracted to guys?
He'd been on a campaign recently to find out if he was attractive to them, but hadn't really been focusing on the bigger issue at hand- which wasn't really an issue, he was just curious to know if he was sexually attracted to tall, dark and handsome. Derek had broken through all of his walls this far and if he were being honest, it wasn't a big deal. Stiles had never been found attractive to anyone from school yet, was totally a virgin and was bi-curious. Sure, he was a mess while this Derek-guy looked well put together... and why the hell would Derek want him anyway? He's a spastic teenager with pale skin and fragile bone and nothing much to offer but sass and sarcasm.
"Hey, any chance you're headed to that music festival in Barstow?" Derek asks, voice like honey over shards of ice. He's currently wiping his oil-stained fingers on an already dirty cloth. Stiles refuses to look at the way his biceps bulge beneath the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He couldn't torture his eyeballs like that.
"Uhhh... yeah actually. I was supposed to meet up with some friends there. Of course, as my luck always goes, my bike stalled and now I'm here... with you."
He panics at the sight of a perfectly arched brow. "Not that that's a bad thing! I'm really glad for the uhh... assistance."
Derek grins and goes over to a black and blue bike. Stiles follows because he's got nothing else to do. "This one here's a 1949 Harley Davidson panhead chopper."
"You trying to sell me another one because my bike's lost all hope for a fix up?" he jokes, secretly hoping that wasnt the case because he'd spent money on his Street Bob goddamnit!
Derek snorts and folds his arms, once again showing off those incredibly unrealistic-looking muscles. "Well, it's due for some major maintenance but I wouldn't call it a lost cause. And also, this chopper is mine. If we leave now, we could probably get to the festival in ten minutes tops."
Stiles feels a stroke of pleasure course down his stomach, pooling between his legs and making him tingle down there. He blames it on his stupid teenaged body. But, did this sexy motherfucker just say 'we'?
"Uh, so you're going too? That's- awesome..."
Derek chuckles softly and it shouldn't be so endearing but it is. "I was supposed to meet some friends there too."
"Well what time do you get off?" Stiles asks almost immediately and hates that he can feel himself blushing.
"When I'm done with my last customer of the day."
Stiles blushes even harder- seriously fuck himself. "Which is.... me."
Derek nods, "You comin?"
In more ways that one hopefully, Stiles thinks, totally hating that his mind had provided him with such a tact less joke. Here he was, in an auto shop, with a much older guy, who wasn't a douchebag and was weirdly friendly and a little reserved which... Stiles found incredibly hot. And oh God, was he going to be riding bitch on this man's chopper? Derek mounted the bike, waiting for him to get his head out of his ass and hop on behind him.
Apparently he was.
"What's even the mileage on this thing?" he chokes, making conversation to distract his heart from pounding out of his fricken chest with excitement. He mounts the bike, leaning back slightly so that Derek couldn't feel the weird heat his body was suddenly giving off.
"A hundred and twenty thousand," Derek answers casually, much bigger hands taking Stiles' arms and pulling it around his torso. The teen squeaks when he feels the hard, rippling muscles beneath his palms.
"Jesus, you get around huh?"
Derek glances back at him with a wink that has him instantly sporting a semi. "And it's not even street legal. Hold on tight."
Stiles is pretty sure at this point he wasn't gonna let go... ever, but he does as he's told. His heart races as the fresh wind of the open roads slices through his hair and holds on tighter to the warm body in front of him. He presses his cheek against Derek's back and closes his eyes, for once not second-guessing or questioning anything that was happening to him.
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sirloozelite · 4 years
Text
Galaxy-8: The True Backstory
(Galaxy-8 and all it entails is an OOC haven of chaos... though this one is slightly more serious than normal... but with the usual G8 twist and turns to it. Take nothing within as serious. It is intended to be humour first. That said, the topic of discussion within this prompt is a serious one that exists in our society still, and one that must be dealt with)
Scene: Admiral Thrawn’s Venator Star Destroyer Hanger Bay. Jedi General Ahsoka Tano is working on her Starfighter with her Padawan Anakin Skywalker, grumbling to herself. Captain Cody approaches. 
Cody: General! We need to talk right now!
Ahsoka: ... I’m busy Cody. Not now. 
Cody: No! Now Tano! I'm sick and tired of you cavorting round this ship like some sort of whore! Not to mention how you act when you are off the ship as well. I get that sex can be relief for some people, but your overly promiscuous nature reflects badly on all of us... so grow the hell up and start acting like an adult instead of a hormonal teenager! It’s pathetic!
Ahsoka: ...
Anakin: 0_0
Everyone else: 0_0
Cody: ...
Ahsoka stands up suddenly to her full height, towering over Cody with a dark look on her face. Cody’s confidence falters suddenly. 
Ahsoka: I’d be mindful of your words, ‘Captain’. 
Cody: ... I meant what I said General. You can’t keep acting like this. 
Anakin: Cody... don’t man... seriously...
Ahsoka: No Cody... do... please speak your mind! You think I’m pathetic do you?
Cody: No Sir... I just don’t think you have much respect for anything. 
Ahsoka bears her Togruta fangs and snarls at Cody, who backs away in surprise.
Anakin: Master?
Ahsoka: Has anyone ever told you how I became a Jedi Cody? My path to the order was very different to most. You see, I wasn’t taken by the Jedi at age 3. My parents forbid it. They were very anti-Jedi, and when Master Plo came to take me, they fought him off. 
Cody: I... I didn’t know. 
Ahsoka: Of course you didn’t... but my birth parents were hard-line conservative. They wanted me to grow up as the perfect little Togruta girl for them, married with kids and a husband I was loyal too... the usual nonsense. It was next to impossible to please them. If I didn’t do what they wanted... they’d punish me.
Cody: Punish you? How?
Ahsoka: (darkly) How do you think?!
Anakin: They... they didn’t hit you did they?
Ahsoka: ... they did. 
Cody: 0_0
Anakin: Master... I...
Ahsoka: And then ‘IT’ happened.
Cody: ... ‘it’?
Ahsoka: ...I was 14 years old, and there was this girl... she was one of my best friends... she knew what my parents did to me... and... I kissed her, and my parents saw. 
Anakin: Oh no... did they...
Ahsoka: They kicked me out of the house five minutes later, disowned me, shunned me from their life. To them I was nothing more than a disgusting pathetic parasite who had desecrated the family name. So I left. Stowed away on a transport to Coruscant and walked all the way to the Jedi Temple. Master Plo was there, and he took me in. 
Anakin: 0_0
Cody: General... I didn’t know. 
Ahsoka: No... you didn’t. But perhaps next time you won’t judge someone without knowing the full truth. Maybe I am a bit promiscuous, and yes, maybe I could stand to grow up a bit, but in my mind I am finally free of my birth parents, and for once in my life I can do whatever the hell I damn well please, and I’d really kriffing appreciate it if you didn’t judge me for it Cody!
Cody: General... I... Ahsoka...
Ahsoka rolls her eyes and storms off. 
Cody: I think I kriffed up kid!
Anakin: Yeah... just a bit. 
Cody: Did you know about her past?
Anakin: Not in as much detail as that. I guess that’s why she took me on though. I was a slave for years and came to the order late as well. 
Cody: Yeah... maybe. I need to fix this. 
Anakin: How?
Cody: ... I’ve got an idea. 
One Day Later. Ahsoka is standing on the bridge of the Venator. The doors behind her open, and in strolls Captain Cody, something hidden behind his back.
Cody: General. I would like to show you something. 
Ahsoka: (turns around to face Cody) What is it Cody?
Cody: This! (Cody removes the hidden object from behind his back. It is his helmet, but it has been painted the match Ahsoka’s facial markings. The Captain slides the helmet over his head)
Ahsoka: 0_0
Cody: General Tano! I am proud to serve alongside you as your loyal Captain. Never have the Jedi or Clones had a more loyal, caring and compassionate General to lead them. Every person on this ship, myself especially, respects you greatly, and we would do anything for you!
Ahsoka: 0_0
Cody: Furthermore, whilst it might not undo the damage they did, I want to apologize for the way your birth parents treated you. You should never have had to go through such an upbringing, but I am pleased you were able to find the strength to walk away from them. You are the bravest person I have ever met. 
Ahsoka: :)
Cody: Oh... and I have also taken the liberty of finding that old friend that you mentioned. I was successful, and you have a date booked with her for when we get back to Coruscant. I hope that makes you happy!
Ahsoka: ... awwww... Cody.... you’re the best Clone bro I could ever ask for!
Ahsoka charges and wraps Cody up in a bear hug!
Cody: Too tight!!! Can’t breathe!!!!
Ahsoka: Love you too buddy!
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brokenhardies · 4 years
Text
TAKE YOUR HEART - THIRD SEMESTER
Chapter Two: Some Kind Of Madness
Summary: The last thing you can expect may just be the best thing...
TAGLIST
@seize-the-droid @anotherunreadblog@ocfairygodmother @randomfandoming1 @eddysocs @foxesandmagic @vivis-ghost-wife @witchofinterest @nolanhollogay
January 2nd, and Madoka was certain she would wake up to find out yesterday had been a dream. Yusuke's mother was deceased and everything that transpired yesterday was just a horrifying nightmare. 
Instead, she found herself waking up to the tickets to the show on her bedside table, and her phone erupting with texts... Texts from Jirou.
NASTY CRIMEBOY: Hey, did yesterday feel weird to you?
MOON SHOES: oh god you noticed it too?
NASTY CRIMEBOY: It gets worse.
He then sent a photo. A photo of a tall, studly looking man, sitting on Jirou's bed. He looked oddly familiar, something about him Madoka couldn't quite put her finger on made it feel like she'd seen him before. He had bright blue eyes, and that was definetly unnatural.
MOON SHOES: 0_0
MOON SHOES: WHO THE FUCK IS THIS???
NASTY CRIMEBOY: THAT'S JUST WHAT I ASKED HIM
NASTY CRIMEBOY: AND HE LOOKED AT ME LIKE I JUST SAID I ATE SNICK SNAK BARS WITHOUT BREAKING THEM IN HALF
NASTY CRIMEBOY: Which indeed I do BUT STILL
MOON SHOES: jeez i didnt think you committed the worst crime against humanity :p
NASTY CRIMEBOY: haha very funny
NASTY CRIMEBOY: But I'll keep you posted on if other strange things happen
So Jirou knew that something was off as well. The fact they were exchanging glances during the conversation at the shrine as more troubling information was dropped, more obvious lies were written before them. She frowned, stretching as she went downstairs to prepare breakfast.
Midway through her breakfast preparation, another text from Jirou came through.
NASTY CRIMEBOY: Holy shit
NASTY CRIMEBOY: You know how Futaba mentioned that her mom was alive?
MOON SHOES: ye?
NASTY CRIMEBOY: I just called her Sphinx Lady
NASTY CRIMEBOY: To her face
MOON SHOES: jfc jirou-san
She finished off her breakfast, struggling to swallow the food down as she calmly placed the dishes away. She'd deal with that later. Currently, she found herself sitting at the dining room table, about ready to collapse. She took a deep breath inward, now seeing a text from Yusuke.
KITSUNE: Are you feeling better, my love?
She smiled, somewhat weakly.
MOON SHOES: a little bit. thanks for thinking about me babe. ily
MOON SHOES: (◕‿◕)♡
KITSUNE: I love you as well
She sighed, now seeing another text come through. This time from Jirou;
NASTY CRIMEBOY: Hey, wanna meet me at Odaiba?
NASTY CRIMEBOY: A certain individual has reared their still pretty head from beyond the grave, and I could use some backup.
xxx
"WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING HERE?" 
The now alive Goro Akechi smugly smirked at Madoka as she raced down towards the construction site.
"Ah, I see you were just as ready for me as he was." He greeted, his voice dripping with disdain. 
"Oh, cut the pleasantries you betraying, murdering, jackass." 
"Oh, is that how you say hello now, isn't it?"
"It's how I say hello to SCUMBAGS who MURDER PEOPLE!" 
"Madoka!" Jirou's sudden cry alerts Madoka to revert her stance to one that was more guarded. Even though his eyes were hidden by his - obviously fake - glasses, she could see that he was glaring at her. "He's on our side, for now."
She frowned. "Sorry, Jirou-san." 
"And what am I doing here? Apparently the same thing that has affected your friends has brought me back from the brink." Akechi folded his arms, "And I guess, you, as well, were unaffected by whatever this is?"
Madoka nodded. Akechi grins, and god it looks just as sinister as it did when he was trying to kill them all back on Shido's ship, when he slammed the boiler room shut in front of them, and left himself at the mercy of his cognitive counterpart. 
That's when she looked up, to see the tall spiral building that sat behind the stadiums doors. "So that's why you're in Odaiba."
"You can thank Yoshizawa-san for that," Jirou smiled, gesturing to the small redhead as she stood on her toes awkwardly. "She spotted the Palace and called me." 
"Good job, Yoshizawa."
"It was nothing, Nakano-senpai."
Madoka felt her face grow hot. She had to hold her excitement in for a hot second. Most of the time she was called 'senpai', it was more because it was a formality, not because of a real earnestness like with Yoshizawa. 
"I've already introduced her to Akechi," He stated, "So, shall we go in and check it out?"
Madoka nodded. Maybe performing acts as the Phantom Thieves would calm her down from the panic of the strange reality that she woke up in. It wouldn't erase the fact that those that are dead are now breathing, or that people are happy but not truly happy... But it could numb the feeling for a while, just so she could figure out what's going on.
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devintrinidad · 4 years
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Aw those hcs are adorable! 
I like that green tea is such a staple for 1146 even cells who know him treat getting accepted by him like a pet owner does when their cat bring them a dead animal offering. At least he brings them tea instead of a dead germ. XD
I’m now being reminded of the S1 ending where Platelet sits on top of 3803’s cart. Only replace it with NC now. I can imagine all the weird looks they get when she’s carting around adult Normal Cell like he’s a child. Neither of them care. NC probably just gives off a smug ‘you wish a strong pretty girl would give you a ride on her cart all over the body’ (and he’s right. Some are jealous). But I also see Leader Platelet come running after them because she’s used to 3803 doing that for her too. Instead of making NC leave, Leader Chan plops gerself in his lap all three go on a adventure together (3803 is a disaster and curiosity magnet so eventually things could always get wild). 
It’s funny to think NC is in fact very protective of her. But because he’s a Normal Cell now he’s much weaker then her. She ends up acting more protective over him and carrying him around when he can’t walk. That or she gives him piggy back rides.  It probably takes him awhile to get used to this new reversal. But then he’s like 'eh she’s caring about me and that’s all that matters’. He definitely still acts very protective but he’s more of the nagging type like 5100. But he does it more grumpily. He’s actually bonded with 5100 when it comes to worrying about 3803 (which is pretty ironic). The only difference is he focuses more on how tough she is too and likes it when 3803 goes off the beaten path and does things a RBC isn’t known to do. Since 5100 thinks so little outside the box, NC also sasses her but she sasses right back and then they can squabble (in a non hostile way that never goes to the levels he and 1146 squabbles can) about how she thinks 3803 should just do as expected of her. While NC praises 3803 for doing more then what’s expected of her and even uses the time she called the Calvary on Cancer as an example (which is also ironic). 
Lol, 1146 takes awhile to figure out he’s not over senstive about NC acting affectionate with 3803 because of the past (at least post finally accepting NC in their lives by giving him tea). He’s just straight up jealous and territorial. He’d hate any guy kissing her on the cheek. 3803 doesn’t mind because she actually gets that NC is not doing this out of romance (he’s just as dumb if not dumber then 1146 when it comes to that). Granted she knows he has a crush. But he’s also still very affection starved and not very good at getting social norms. He’s trying his best though and these days wouldn’t dare do anything to upset her. After awhile she notices 1146’s sheer grumpiness and NC tells her he’s upset he’s too shy to kiss her cheeks too. 3803 being 3803 quickly tells 1146 what NC told her and she informs him 'of course  he can kiss her cheek too’. She waits for him to kiss her cheek but he just stands there frozen like all the life got sucked out of him. NC is trying not to laugh out loud. 3803 gets tired of waiting so - thinking it might help - she gives a quick kiss on the cheek to 1146. Then his clothes explodes off him as his face turns more red then her hair. Normally NC would get a little jealous but even he’s in a little awe by the reaction. 0_0
Normal Cell would cry tears of joy that NC managed to find two friends. That’s a lot more then he expected. He’d be such a busybody like that overly enthusiastic momma bear who’s so proud and invested in her child. NC would stop him from getting too excited over 3803 being his girlfriend because she’s not. Normal Cell also shows 1146 all of NC’s most embarrassing photos because he sees 1146 as a nice upstanding guy who is like NC’s best friend. 1146 is polite enough to leave before laughing his head off and subtly making fun of NC about it later. That’s the quickest way to get NC to behave once he realizes all the blackmail ammo 1146 has on him.
 Aw, I bet 1146 gives the best hugs to 3803. He just envelopes her into his big arms and she feels so safe and warm in them. Sometimes when he’s particularly happy or sentimental, he sweeps her off her feet for a tight hug while she laughs. 
I can imagine 1146 just has his iconic dour face when he’s carrying them and thinking he’s the only adult in this trio.
NC would make fun of 1146 for liking boring vanilla best. 1146 would defend his choice saying it’s vanilla Bean! Very different from ordinary vanilla. Then he’d point out lemon suits NC just fine because they’re both so sour to deal with. 
Aw NC trying his best to find a good dynamic with 1146 and 1146 leaving to cool off instead of exploding at him. They’d definitely have a ways to go and NC would be grateful deep down how patient and kind 1146 really is with him. The sass will always remain but NC is definitely forcing himself to learn how to not hurt others when previously that’s what his entire existence was about. NC probably cried once when he accidently made 1146 REALLY upset. Then 1146 ended up getting flustered and giving NC way more treats then he could consume in one sitting because those tears would stop coming. That’s their weird dynamic. 
NC will never stop treating 3803 like a queen. Making her happy is the one thing that eases his guilt a little. She definitely sees herself acting like a big sister for him and always accepting his gifts. She’ll pat him on the head and hope someday he’ll hate himself a little less for a life he hadn’t picked. Her forgiveness is the one thing that helps him sleep at night. 
As much as NC would never admit it, he doesn’t want to ever move out of Normal Cell’s apartment. He knows he’ll get lonely without his creator and sees him as a security blanket despite all his visible annoyances over said mentor’s clingy ways. He’ll probably treat Normal Cell’s next clone like that annoying younger sibling he never asked for and is his mortal enemy by birth (you know in a normal sibling way). 
~~~
Hiya! Are you new? Your email is unfamiliar to me....
Hahaha, now I’m getting images of 1146 covered head to toe in blood while dragging around the mutilated remains of a bacterium for his friends. It’s somewhat adorable but also terrifying. 
That’s a great callback! I actually wanted to reference that time in 3803/NC’s relationship back in RBA (basically one of the first times they meet and 3803 saves Cancer by running for her life with Cancer hanging on for dear life in her cart). But the reference to the season one ending is also a great detail! And yes, Leader Platelet (and a few of the other platelets), also like to ride on 3803′s cart. 
(Sometimes, other RBCs will get their own platelets and they’ll go have races around the body). 
I am living for the friendship with NC and 5100. Although I’m pretty sure 5100 will never know the true story behind the kidnapping and NC’s true origins, they will surely bond over 3803. (But let’s face it, NC gets 3803 roped up in his shenanigans and it’s up to 5100, 4201, or 1146 to bail them out. And no. NC regrets nothing). 
Protective NC is best NC, even when he’s being a sassy little child when doing so.
1146′s CLOTHES EXPLODE??? HEHAHAHAHAH! 3803 is left mystified while Dendritic Cell swoops in for a few photos. 
(NC pays Dendritic Cell with a few humorous stories of 1146 in exchange for a few photos... to which Normal Cell promptly sticks into his budding scrapbook for NC).
1146 gives the best hugs. Sometimes, when he swoops 3803 in his arms, he sees NC looking off to the side, an angry blush on his cheeks. 1146 isn’t one to gloat, but that’s probably what he’s doing when he sees the look on NC’s face. 
(Don’t worry... some day down the line, 1146 hugs him... but they will never admit it). 
If there’s anyone interested in the Abnormalities verse and also happens to be an artist or likes to doodle... please draw grumpy 1146 holding his two friends like they’re a sack of grapes? Please? It would make my day, haha. 
Hehehe, I gave NC lemon flavor because of his “lime green eyes”. But he is definitely pretty sour to begin with.
Aw NC trying his best to find a good dynamic with 1146 and 1146 leaving to cool off instead of exploding at him. They’d definitely have a ways to go and NC would be grateful deep down how patient and kind 1146 really is with him. The sass will always remain but NC is definitely forcing himself to learn how to not hurt others when previously that’s what his entire existence was about. NC probably cried once when he accidently made 1146 REALLY upset. Then 1146 ended up getting flustered and giving NC way more treats then he could consume in one sitting because those tears would stop coming. That’s their weird dynamic.
^^^ I won’t expand on it, because you worded it better than I ever could. You broke their relationship into their barest essentials. 
Oooohhhh, I love the image of 3803 patting him on the head. While NC isn’t that much taller than 3803, the height difference is still apparent. I can just imagine that whenever NC gets really down or especially guilty, he hunches over himself, becomes smaller, and bows his head (reminiscent of his first reincarnation as a child trying to hide from the big, bad immune cells). When 3803 sees this, she immediately goes into mother/big sister mode and starts patting his head and smoothing his locks. Maybe she even kisses him on the forehead/cheek (depending on how she’s still dealing with the trauma). 
After that, NC beams at her, but doesn’t sass or say anything. 
He’s content with what she has given him.
Hehehe, I bet Normal Cell has to explain that there are rules and regulations to this sort of thing. So, they compromise. NC and Normal Cell will live on the same floor of their apartment complex and NC gets to visit whenever he wants. 
(He totally comes over every day just to annoy his younger sibling). 
Thanks for the lovely add ons! They were really cute and adorable! :D
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thegaypotato · 5 years
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“I’m gonna get you out of here.”
a/n: is this inspired by the flash? that’s a secret I’ll never tell... 0_0
*
      “Hey, Pete, I think I’m gonna go home, I’ll leave you some leftover pizza from yesterday if you want,” Harley mumbled, half asleep, as he stood up from his stool, shoving his books and laptop into his black backpack. He swung it over his shoulder and leaned down to press a kiss on Peter’s head.
“Sure, and I think we’re out of bread, too,” Peter replied, looking up from his web-shooters. “Can you get some?”
“Sure, I don’t know if there’s anything open right now, but I’ll check.”
Peter flashed him a grateful smile before leaning up and pecking Harley’s lips. “Bye, Harls.”
“Bye, Pete.”
*
     Harley dragged his feet through the almost empty city, thankful that the streetlights were still on even though it was almost 2 AM. He hated walking alone at night.
He sat on a hard, uncomfortable seat on the subway, scrolling aimlessly through his phone to pass the time. The few people around him did the same. After three stops, Harley pushed himself onto his feet and walked off and back up into the city, where he walked an extra three blocks to the supermarket, which was thankfully open.
The muffled, quiet music playing in the deserted market gave off horror movie vibes, but Harley shrugged it off, grabbing the first loaf of bread he saw and rushing to the cashier. He placed it down and sent a polite smile at the lady on the other side of the desk, knowing she probably didn’t want to be there. She scanned the bread and shoved it into a plastic bag.
“$2.50,” she said, her hands reaching up to her head and tightening her messy ponytail. Harley slid three dollars across to her and grabbed the bag. As she started rummaging through the almost empty coin slot, Harley murmured a quick “keep the change.”
He walked out, glad to be almost home. He crossed the street and walked the last few blocks back to his apartment. He leaned against the wall on the elevator, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion as one of the lights above flickered. The elevator came to a sudden halt and the doors slid open, revealing apartment 35, 36, and 37. Harley sighed in relief and he pulled his keys out of his back pocket and jammed them into the old wooden door with the number “36″ carved into it.
Twisting the keys and pushing the door open, his entire body froze. He could’ve sworn his heart skipped a few beats and his blood stopped pumping. He dropped the bag.
In front of him lay a man, probably around his mid-seventies, collapsed across the living room floor, blood streaming lazily from an open wound on his chest. Things were thrown around and beside him was a knife splattered with more red liquid.
Almost instinctively, Harley rushed forward towards the man, kneeling down beside him and pressing two fingers against his neck.
Dead.
Harley hadn’t even noticed his hands were shaking and he suddenly felt like throwing up. Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, he eyed his backpack at the door.
He hesitated and glanced out the door, that was still wide open. 
His breath got caught in his throat and his chest heaved in panic. He got to his feet, ignoring as his legs shook, and ran to his backpack, yanking his phone out and shakily tapping on Peter’s contact. He pressed the phone against his ear and his legs gave way, making him collapse onto his knees, his free hand pressed onto the floor. 
The phone rang and rang and Harley was panicking and when had he started crying?
“Harls?” Peter asked calmly when he’d picked up. “I’m almost home-”
Harley sobbed, his hand flying to his mouth, where he bit his knuckles anxiously. He hiccuped, his entire body shaking as he glanced at the dead man in his living room.
“Harley?” Peter asked once more, his voice now laced with worry. “Harls, what’s wrong?”
Harley breathed in shakily, suddenly realizing that he should’ve called the police instead.
“I- there’s- I don’t know what to do, Peter- there’s-” he sobbed again, a heart-wrenching sound that came from deep in his chest and made his body convulse with overwhelming fear.
“Woah, woah, Harley, relax, what’s going on?” Peter asked, failing at trying to sound calm. “I’m almost home, don’t worry-”
Harley pulled the phone away from his ear when loud footsteps came from outside, coming from the staircase. Harley looked up and saw three police officers race into the apartment, one leading the way and holding a gun up towards him.
“Hands behind your head!” The man yelled, making Harley drop the phone and stare at the man in complete panic. He suddenly forgot how to speak. “I said-” one of the officers grabbed Harley by the shoulder and hauled him to his feet. “Hands behind your head!” The first one yelled, holding his gun closer to Harley’s pale face.
Harley raised his hands and held them at the back of his head, his entire body shivering with dread. Peter’s muffled voice was still heard from the phone on the floor. Harley looked at each of the officers.
“I- I didn’t do it- I just came home, please-” He stammered, hoping the shake of his voice didn’t make it sound less convincing.
“Shut it, kid!” The same officer yelled, nodding at the last one behind him, who took out a pair of handcuffs and roughly snapped them around Harley’s wrists.
“Jesus Christ,” the man mumbled, looking at the dead body a few feet away in horror before shoving Harley out of the front door.
“No, no, no, wait,” Harley sobbed as they pushed him out of the building. “I swear- I didn’t do anything! Please, you gotta believe me, please-”
“Keep it for the judge, kid,” the officer behind him growled.
Harley’s vision was blurry with tears, but he still made out the person running towards him.
Peter.
 “PETER!” Harley cried out with all his remaining lung-strength, struggling to break free from the man’s grasp so he could run to his boyfriend. A foot kicked him in the back of the knees, making him collapse onto the pavement. Peter was running towards Harley, panic flaring in his chest at the sight.
A tall figure stepped in his way, a hand gently holding his shoulder. “Step back, kid, he’s dangerous.” The man turned and glared at Harley with disgust.
“Wha-- dangerous? No, no, he’s my boyfriend- wait, what’s going on?” Peter stuttered, trying to get past the man as Harley was shoved onto the police cruiser, the door slammed beside him.
“There’s been a murder,” the man replied, letting Peter pass once Harley was inside the car. Peter ignored the obviously false statement and ran to the cruiser towards the door where Harley had been pushed into.
Harley was barely visible through the stained glass, but it was enough for Peter to see his pale face and terrified eyes, staring back up at him.
“Harley, Harley, baby, you’re ok, I’m gonna get you out of here, don’t worry,” Peter said, loud enough for Harley to hear through the glass. He pawed at the window, not wanting to break it but realizing he’d do anything to help his boyfriend. “Just hold on, ok? I don’t know what’s going on but we’re gonna get you a lawyer, ok?” He continued, following as the car started moving into the street.
He ran after the car for what felt like forever until his legs gave out, leaving him sobbing in the middle of the street at nearly 3 AM.
“I’m gonna get you out of there.”
*
a/n: should I make this a mini-series? idk y’all just ask and I will :)
also, i’m so sorry for torturing u guys recently lmao
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ask-the-wkm-group · 6 years
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Stuff About The Mun
Tagged by @ask-the-da
Rules: Answer These Questions And Tag Twenty Blogs You’d Like To Get To Know Better.
Well... I don't know many people in the community soooooo.... Sorry ;-;
Nickname: Kat, Kitty Kat, Car, Katniss, Kittykatnix, and KitKat are the main ones I get called.
Zodiac: Aquarius. Water is fun
Height: I am 5'5.5 thank you very much
Time: 12:18 Pm
Favorite Band/Artist: Not sure, I like pretty much everything and don't bother learning names.
Song Stuck In My Head: Elmo's World.... Don't ask.
Last Movie I Saw: Thor Ragnorok
Last Thing I Googled: Killer Sans (Was drawing shitpost and I couldn't remember how he looked)
Other Blogs: I've got a main blog for all my reblogs and shiz, but I'm most active on @kittykatcar My art blog for stuff
Do I Get Asks: Yes. Yes I do. I'm behind on them, I'm sorry! I'll get to work on them at some point, I swear!
Why I Chose This Username: I couldn't settle on just one bean to do for an ask blog, so why not all?
Following: Look, I follow like 240 something things, I'm not listing them all 0_0
Average Amount of Sleep: Ha Ha Ha thats a funny question. 10 or 3 hours. There is no average, only chaos.
What Am I Wearing: Black tank top, black sweatpants, and fuzzy bear gloves. I'm gonna be stuck in a car for hours don't judge me.
Dream Job: Gosh if I could just draw for a living that would be great
Dream Trip: I'd love to travel the US and go to haunted places just so I could yell at ghosts. That sounds like a lot of fun.
Favorite Food: Ramen. Chicken flavor. Best food. 10 out of 10.
Play Any Instruments: I used to play the flute
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Dark brown, though I dye it so in the sun it has a purple red look to it.
Describe Yourself As Aesthetic Things: VHS tape filters and paint mixing
Language You Speak: English, though Russian is something I want to learn
Most Iconic Songs: Devil Went Down to Georgia
Random Fact: I fell down the stairs when I was little, because apparently I thought sleeping at the top of the stairs was a good place to sleep.
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briepark · 6 years
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Get to know me tag
I was tagged by @theloveinkimkai thank you so much lovely ❤︎
Answer 20 questions and tag 10 others
Nickname: Brie, Gabi
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Virgo
Height: around 175 cm
Time: 21:25
Fav band/solo artist: only EXO is the fav but i also like: AWS, Imagine Dragons, Amigod, Starset
Song stuck in my head: Igraj Moja Hrvatska, i looove this song so much*-*
Last movie i watched: The Maze Runner i think? it was quite a long time ago:c
Last thing i googled: “eladó cocker spániel” T^T (cocker spaniel for sale) i fell in love with a doggie:c 
Other blog: Nooo~ i’m bad with this only one too...
Do I get asks: almost never.. but sometimes i get awards in my inbox which makes me feel so loved and appreciated and i’m always thankful for you all💗💞
Reason behind the username: i was uncreative and put my nickname and PCY’s family name together. i wanted to go with kim or oh but i didn’t think those versions sounded right
Following: 800+ there are many inactive ones but i don’t have the heart to unfollow them:c
Average hours of sleep: um.. i need at least 7 or 8. during school i sleep around 6 hours or maybe 7, at the weekends it’s probably 8-9 hours. but there are times when i function better with like 3 hours of sleep. won’t ever understand..
Lucky number: 5, 7, 8 (these all helped me so much during my exam!! i knew i had chosen them perfectly a long time ago)
What am I wearing: white shirt with my sleeping shorts
Dream job: something in connection with languages and/ or travelling or animals. i think i’d like to be a tourist gide or language teacher. but since it’s really far i’d say waitress too~ i really loved working as one even if it was only just a summer job i can easily imagine myself having this job too, even if it’s just the second job i’d have~
Dream trip: South Korea!!! i’d really want to!! or a trip in Europe~ i was talking with one of my best friends about this aaand~ maybe we two will go on a trip together after high school*-*
Favourite food: chocolate, Chinese and Korean dishes, soups, sweets
Instrument: flute and i can play the piano a little
Favourite song: um.. i never have only one~ i always have like 5 and i truly can’t choose nor say only one. soo i’ll just say a few~ Electric Kiss, Power, Black Pearl, Lightsaber, Overdose, More Than You Know, Viszlát Nyár, Hol Voltál?, Taníts Meg Élni, What U Do?, 8 Letters,Hooked i listen to these a lot these days, among them Black Pearl might be the closest to my heart. this was the song that officially got me into the fandom and changed my life forever 💕 one of EXO’s best songs, it’s so angelic, calming and simply beautiful!💝
Favourite color: lavender purple, pastel pink and blue, black
Siblings: unfortunately i have no siblings:c i have always wanted a big brother who is only like 2 yrs older than me. it’s a bit late, isn’t it..?
Pet: used to have a doggie💝 i still think about him a lot and miss him so much:c sometimes i just sit down and wonder how happier i’d be if he was here with me.. he always came to me to cheer me up and lay down on me and sleep on me.. when i’ll live on my own or with my own family i’ll definitely buy dogs since it’s hard living without them!!
Sexuality: Straight
Hometown: Ajka, Magyarország
Significant crush: o_o a classmate of mine 0_0 altough, i love EXO with my whole heart (if this counts, i think yes?) i’d say Jongin too~ i can easily imagine a boyfriend like him!
Languages: Hungarian, English and learning German and Korean^^ and planning on Croatian as well^^
Favourite time of the day: Night, i enjoy reading, listening to music but mostly watching my series during night since it’s calm, and parents won’t interrupt me..-
Nationality: Hungarian
i’m tagging: @ladyliliah @ananou59 @fluffyloey @guardians-of-exo @knowexoknowlife @dreamingnini @byunselma @kpopstaners @nowherecarlos
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