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thera-daydreams · 3 years

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KABILANG BUHAY

× A TRESE ONESHOT ×

[Crispin x Ghost!Reader]

📝 Summary: Your demigod husband remembers you—everything about you—and how much he absolutely loved you. He remembers everything, including the memory that hurt the most.

📌 Warning: Contains fluff, angst, character death, and mentions of violence (because an angry Crispin being the son of a wargod is bound to shed some blood somewhere). Masakit po talaga 'tong songfic na 'to, trust me. If you don't want to get hurt, scroll awaaaay. Pero if you want maximum 1000% ultra heavy pain, then listen to the song below on repeat while reading, too.

Song: Kabilang Buhay by Bandang Lapis

(word count: 5,642)

"Masasayang mga araw na kasama kita."

Warm. Crispin always remembered you to be so warm—every single part of you. The heat of your skin against his whenever he held you, that whimsical sparkle in your eyes whenever you saw the little joys in life, that sprightly curve of your lips whenever you two teased each other, and the radiance he saw from you whenever you were around the people you loved.

In his eyes, there was always a halo around your head or a beam of light following you around. Perhaps he was biased; perhaps he saw you through rose-tinted glasses, but it didn't matter to him. To the demigod, you were everything he ever wanted.

You were the one.

You were also one of the sweetest people he'd ever met. Every morning without a fail, there would always be a hot cup of kape and a plate of pandesal on the table—not only for him, but for everyone else in your little family, too. Alexandra, Hank, and of course, his younger brother Basilio. Even before you became his girlfriend, you'd treated them as your own loved ones.

That was the day he knew you were truly the one for him. The one who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The one he wanted to build a home with. The woman he wanted to marry and have children with, if you were okay with it (when that conversation came, you said you would be happy and honored to be his wife).

Crispin said it was the other way around. It was he who was fortunate and honored to be your husband. You'd laughed in response, kissing his cheek. There were no fancy rings or a formal, elaborate proposal involved, but that day—he remembered clearly that you had that conversation on a chilly December 1st, 9:24PM, right before you two went to bed—was an unspoken promise.

You two would be inseparable and together 'til death do you part.

Going back to that coffee and bread, he always wondered how you managed to keep it so fresh (you said it was a secret, but later on you spilled the beans to him after him pestering you). Even if he woke up at noon because of missions with his bossing and his brother, palaging mainit ang kape at pandesal. You must have had some sort of superpower you weren't telling him (you rolled your eyes, telling him that superpower came in the form of a microwave).

"Paglalambing at kulit mo na hindi nakakasawa."

He was by no means clingy or touch-starved, but whenever he was around you, he had the need to at least hold you in any way. Sometimes, it was the usual PDA (Basilio and Maliksi teased him about it, but he didn't care if it meant having some sort of contact with you; Alexandra just let it be because she knew how much you two loved each other). In public, you guys toned it down—settling with holding hands or you just linking your arm through his. If he was driving the car, his hand would either be innocently resting on your thigh or your hand which was on your lap. If you were the one driving the car, then it would be your hand on his thigh or his hand. He loved to draw circles on your skin whenever he was daydreaming or starting to doze off, too.

You as a couple often expressed your love for each other in different ways, and not just by saying it out loud. One thing Crispin adored the most about your relationship was the way you voicelessly said "I love you". If it wasn't clear enough that acts of service was one of your love languages, then he could understand that you loved him back through three taps.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

At first, he had no clue what it meant. You just kept doing it whenever you were near him, on whatever body part you could touch. If he was driving? Tap, tap, tap on his thigh. If he was the one cooking? You'd hug him from behind and then one of your fingers would go tap, tap, tap on his waist. If you were eating together? You'd take his palm then just... tap, tap, tap while chewing on whatever food it was you had in your mouth.

He recalled that afternoon you guys were eating at a simple Japanese place. While you slurped up some of the wheat noodles and the savory soup, you were excitedly doing a little happy dance as you ate—the one you did whenever you ate something you found yummy. Frankly, Crispin found it endearing. He, too, was guzzling down some of the ramen when you reached out for his hand then laid it on the table palm up.

With a mischievous smile and your puffed up cheeks looking like a chipmunk from the noodles you'd gobbled up, you gently tapped his palm with your index finger, that same glint in your eye whenever you did that gesture.

"... Anong ginagawa mo, mahal?" Crispin chuckled, a brow raised. He found it cute but he had no idea what it was supposed to stand for.

"Wala lang," you mysteriously answered in a muffled voice, swallowing.

"You know, you shouldn't talk when your mouth is full," he pointed out, amused. You snorted, gulping.

"Not my fault you asked a question, Crispin," you retorted, shoving in another bite of noodley goodness with your chopsticks. You did a mini-wiggle when the umami flavor exploded on your tongue (the ramen was bussin', bestie). Ratatouille would be impressed!

"But seriously, what does the tap stand for?" your boyfriend wondered. You did it again. Tap, tap, tap.

"Isn't it obvious?" you smiled. He then sweat-dropped.

"Wait, keep smiling," Crispin leaned over the table, removing a tiny bit of the dahon sibuyas stuck on one of your front teeth with his nail. He then popped that finger into his mouth, making you blink at the action.

"Ay, may naiwan pala. Hehehehehe." With how long you two have been dating, you were no longer embarrassed if you did get anything stuck in your teeth and he had to get it out (it's happened in more occasions than you could count). You did the same to him (and trust me, you were way past the stage of getting grossed out from the gross habits couples did). At least you two were a hundred percent comfortable and open to one another, right? Sanaol.

Crispin nodded, going back to eating his noodles, "Okay, back to the topic. What does this—" He tapped your palm the same way you did. "—even mean?"

Your grin just grew wider then you whispered into his ear, "I love you."

"... I love you, too," he answered automatically, still not understanding. "But what do the taps mean? You keep doing it and—"

You did it again on his hand.

"I." Tap.

"Love." Tap.

"You." Tap.

At long last, that look of realization came upon his features, "... Aaaaaaaaah."

You chuckled, all brightness and merriness from your revelation to the man you loved. "Gets mo na, mahal?"

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Oo, mahal. Hehe."

"... Can we order another bowl of ramen? Please?" With those puppy-dog eyes? Crispin could never resist. He'd rip the world apart for you and build it back up from scratch if you wanted him to.

That was how deep his love was for you. Kapag nagmamahal ang isang diyos, walang imposible... 'di ba?

He was already raising a hand to call for a waiter, "Sure. Basta maubos mo."

"... And if half lang maubos ko?"

He sighed, "... Edi ako kakain sa anong maiiwan." What was the saying whenever you found your soulmate? Oh, yes.

True love is getting fat together.

Maybe it was true for both of you.

When you two exited the ramen place, you patted your bloated tummy. "Haaaay, busog na busog si food baby," you sighed in happiness, adjusting the the top of your high-waisted skirt to loosen it up for more space. You elbowed him slightly, wiggling your eyebrows at him and mimicking Kylie Jenner, "Soooo, I'm thirty-four weeks today."

"'Luh, ang drama mo," Crispin snickered, poking your rounded side playfully and making you pout. "Nagdadalang tao ka pala, ha. Ako ang tatay pero hindi mo sinabi sa akin na buntis ka." He wouldn't lie, but thoughts of you being pregnant with a child warmed his entire being. Mini-yous and mini-hims running around.

What a dream.

"Nagdadalang tae lang po, manong," you stuck your tongue out at him, then stopped. He stopped walking, too, looking at you questioningly.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Mahal?" you paused. Gulugulugulugulu. Oh no. Mayday, mayday!

"Did you forget something at the restaurant?" he asked. You shook your head in response, telling him there was an emergency.

"... Mahal, natatae ako."

"Like, now?" You nodded at him with wide, doe-like irises. His eyes crinkled, finding the situation hilarious. "Really? Oh shit. Literally. Is this because we were talking about poop?"

Crispin could only cackle as you rummaged through your bag for some wet wipes (and the situation led to you two running around the mall like psychos looking for the nearest restroom—grabe ang cold sweat mo, sis; it was that type of pooping session).

As he waited outside the women's comfort room, he found himself smiling like a weirdo from your date today. Nagdadalang tae o nagdadalang tao, he wouldn't love you any other way.

"Punong-puno ng ligaya ang ating pagsasama."

He found himself unconsciously doing the tapping to you, as well. Tap. Tap. Tap. He only now realized how many times you've been saying "I love you" everyday. Usually, you'd only verbally say it out loud three times: in the morning waking up, whenever he left for a mission, or the times you went to sleep together (because of the nature of his work, it was uncommon, but if he was at home during the night, he'd make sure to say it to you). But now that he knew what the taps meant, he counted them for one week from Monday to Sunday.

You were sitting on the couch, on your stomach and sprawled vertically over his lap. He was watching a basketball game on television while you were on your phone, scrolling through Facebook. It was all quiet until he tapped his finger thrice on your calf. You beamed, rolling over to face him then gently tapping his cheek three times—not with your fingers, but with your hands, smooshing his cheeks then pecking his lips.

"Fwifee-hweif," he said. You tilted your head at him, letting go of his cheeks.

"What was that?" you curiously inquired.

"Fifty-eight," Crispin gave you his signature flirty grin. "You tapped me one hundred seventy-four times today. And one hundred seventy-four divided by three—because I love you has three syllables—is equal to fifty-eight." His affectionate gaze to you softened. "Mahal, you've told me I love you fifty-eight times today."

You just hugged him and hid your face in his neck, "I love you, too, manooooong."

"... Wanna watch a K-drama tonight?" he said, his voice rumbling through his chest as you laid your head on it.

"Mmhmm."

You guys ended up binging Scarlet Heart Ryeo and bawling your eyes out (Crispin cried louder than you, actually, and the box of tissues was passed back n' forth between you two).

"Punyeta, walang Season Two?" Crispin cursed, blowing his nose.

You hiccupped, shaking your head and scrolling through the categories, "W-Wala e-eh, m-mahal."

"Seryoso ka ba?" he gaped, wiping his tears after wiping yours. "That's how it ends?"

You nodded, sniffling, "Uh-huh."

The next morning, when all of you gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Alexandra and the others could only stare, nagtataka kung bakit namamaga ang mga mata niyo (yeah, they were swollen as hell).

"... Anyare sa inyo?" Alexandra quizzed. Hank, while pouring everyone some juice, had a worried look on his face, too.

"Nag-away ba kayong dalawa, Kuya?" Basilio questioned. You both shook your head simultaneously.

"Hindi," Crispin shortly answered, exhausted from crying with you all night.

"Nanood lang kami ng K-drama," you supplied, as worn out as your boyfriend was.

"Aaaaaaah."

"Na parang wala nang sisira ng lahat."

The date always held some significance to him, not only because it meant only a few days before Christmas but also because it was the day you promised to one another that you'd be endgame.

December 1st.

It would repeat in his head over and over again until the day he died.

The two of you were lying in bed, the cold night air entering through the open windows. You were leaning on his chest in-between his lap, reading The Count of Monte Cristo. He noticed that your expression often shifted between being giddy to being angry or smug at what was happening to the main character.

"... Mahal?"

"Yeah?" you responded, not taking your eyes off the novel. You flipped another page.

"What kind of ring do you want? Para alam ko kung magkano ang iiponin ko?" he quietly asked, his thumb caressing your temple. Normally, men wanted this to be a surprise or didn't talk about this but he only wanted you to have something you'd cherish for the rest of your life. You tilted your head back to look up at him. "Do you want those with the big gems or the smaller and simpler ones?"

You gazed back at your novel, then sat up and closed it, turning to look at him. "Crispin." You took his hands in your own (he tapped it thrice, making a teeny smile creep up your lips). "Hindi ko kailangan ng singsing."

His eyes grew wide, "... Are you sure? You don't want to be formally married?"

You frantically shook your head, "Nooooooo, noooo! That's not what I meant, dummy. I just wanted to tell you that I don't need an expensive ring to be yours." You kissed him. "And to be your wife."

"Pero—"

"Mahal, if we ever do have kids, mahal ang gatas, diaper, at tuition," you childishly told him. "Kung magpapakasal tayo, I don't need a huge proposal or a big wedding. Let's put the funds away for a house and for the future, 'mkay?"

"... But you won't have a ring," he sulked.

Getting an idea, you hopped off the bed and open your cabinet, finding a piece of durable string on one of your shirts. With a strong tug, it came off. You walked back towards your boyfriend, flopping back down then looping it on your left ring finger. You held your hand up to him, "There. I have a ring now, see?"

Crispin had never ever loved anyone as much as he did right now. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his head, though. "... I feel like I've seen this in a movie before, mahal."

"Duuuuh. I got the idea from the Count of Monte Cristo. Mercedes promises herself to Dantes with a string ring! Sorry nalang if copyright infringement ang ginawa ko, hihi." You showed him the book you were reading, the smile not disappearing from your face. Feeling ecstatic, he kissed you passionately right on the spot.

"Ipapangako mo sa akin na magsasama tayo nang walang hanggan?" Crispin whispered against your lips. "Magpakailanman?"

You kissed him, rolling your eyes, "Oo na, Crispin. Corny mo talaga, manong. Such a hopeless romantic, like me!" Another kiss. "I'll stay with you forever and ever and eveeeeeer and grow old with you. We'll get that rest house in the mountains, travel the world together, win the lotto, and do anything we want!" you declared determinedly.

"Promise? Talaga?"

You grinned, wriggling your little finger, "Pinky promise."

He linked his pinky with yours, "Okay. Pinky promise, wifey."

"Okaaaaay, hubby," you quipped, settling down and snuggling into him.

9:24PM, he saw the digital clock display before he pulled the covers over you both, keeping you warm and safe in his arms.

"Bakit pa dumating ang oras na ito?"

"Mahaaaaal, pauwi na ako. Huwag kang mag-alala," you quietly told Crispin over the phone. He was on another investigation, but while their bossing was speaking to Captain Guerrero and Lieutenant Tapia about the case, he used the spare time he had to check up on you.

You had been buying groceries, but knowing you, Crispin had a feeling you had gone to do some other errands.

"Pauwi ka na? Meaning, you're driving home?" He sighed, "And why are you whispering?"

"... Ehehehe," you nervously giggled.

"Anong ehehehehe?" the demigod asked you, suspicious. "Mahal, saan ka na ba talaga?"

"Nasa banko pa ako. Oopsies," you admitted shamelessly. "But I just finished paying the bills. I'm actually walking away from the counter now and—"

You suddenly stopped talking. For a second, the son of the wargod thought that the signal had gone bad.

"Mahal?"

Your voice had gone distant, but it seemed like it was talking to someone else. He strained to hear what you were saying.

"Hey, hey... shhhh, little one, huwag kang umiyak," he heard you say. Your voice seemed so far away. You seemed like you were trying to shush a person. A kid.

"I want my mom!" a child wailed.

"... Langga, come here. At huwag kang masyadong maingay." If it weren't for his heritage as a god, he would have barely been able to hear what you said.

Were you comforting a kid? Awww. He was about to just end the call then text you instead when another much louder and crueler voice could be heard over the phone. No, there wasn't only one voice. There were more.

"Mamatay kayong lahat! Balang araw, hindi na mga tao ang mamumuno sa mundong ito!"

Then there was a sound that was unmistakably a gunshot.

"Nabalitaan ko na wala ka na."

Bang!

His blood went cold. Almost every day he handled firearms in his line of work, so of course he knew what it sounded like. The shrieks and terrified shouts came after the gunshots.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The last thing he heard were more gunshots, then the call ending.

He had never sprinted to Alexandra so fast before, frantically begging her to let him use the Dragon's Gate to teleport to wherever you were, even if it made him physically sick and nauseous.

Crispin didn't give a damn what happened to him, as long as nothing happened to you.

"Hindi ba't sabi mo hindi mo ko iiwan?"

It all happened so fast. One moment he was silently praying to Bathala for your safety while looking for you in the chaos. The next? He was scouring through the overwhelmed emergency room of the nearest hospital, where it was flooded with victims from the mall shooting.

It was a mess, with bleeding patients on the floor as nurses tried to assist. Others were seated on monobloc chairs that had been quickly put on the corridors. There was an overwhelming number of patients taken to the hospital either through ambulances or police cars themselves. It already began to stink of death, and Crispin hated it. His bloodlust as a wargod was creeping up his veins from the stench and his inner fury, but he held it in. He needed to find you first.

Behind him, Alexandra and Basilio were searching for you, too. When he told them what happened, they didn't hesitate to help and be transported to the mall as quick as possible. Captain Guerrero had already dispatched units after hearing what occurred (there was also an alarm that had blared in the station—a bank employee must have pressed an emergency button or something).

Surprisingly, in the midst of the havoc happening inside the hospital, he found himself walking towards the Trauma Bay of the hospital like a magnet. He had no idea where he was going, but he just kept going, and he stopped by a less crowded hallway. If he just went straight forward, he would be entering an operating room.

"Excuse me, coming through! Make some way!" It was a doctor who yelled from behind him. He turned around.

"Hindi papabayaan na ako'y mag-isa."

And as if time went by slower, he found you on a stretcher, being wheeled through the corridor as a nurse was on the bed with you, performing CPR. He saw the amount of blood gushing out of the bullet wounds on your body; one on your back, another on your stomach, and a third on your thigh.

Crispin couldn't help but run after them, asking one of the health professionals what was happening to you, "Nurse! Nurse, is she going to be okay!?"

"Are you her family?" they quickly interrogated. Alexandra and Basilio rounded the corner right as the nurse asked him that. Both held their breaths when they saw the tormenting state you were in, unconscious and on the brink of death.

The eldest demigod frenziedly nodded, "Yes, yes! I'm family!" He glanced at your bleeding form, and his heart clenched seeing the string ring on your finger, a bit of blood splattered over it. "I'm... I'm her husband! Asawa ko siya!"

You weren't formally or legally married yet, but to his eyes (and many of the others who knew you both), you were practically husband and wife.

"Good," the nurse said as they rushed you into the O.R., stopping Crispin from entering any further. "Sir, we need you to tell us your wife's name and her health details, please. She has to be operated on as soon as possible. We need her age, blood type, her comorbidities or allergies, if any..."

Crispin knew them all. He'd memorized them. And he told the nurses everything they needed for the operation. As long as it saved you, he'd say anything. Do anything.

"Hindi ba't sabi mo sabay tayong tatanda?"

It was a grueling operation, he could tell. Crispin had been pacing continuously in the waiting room, not even daring to sit from how anxious he was about you. Hank had come instantly to the hospital after hearing, and now there were three seated and extremely worried people watching him panic outside the operating room.

"God, please let her be okay," he continued to mumble to himself, fiddling with his fingers. "Please, please, please..."

"Kuya, umupo ka muna," Basilio tried to convince his brother.

"Oo nga," Hank frowned.

"You've been standing for five hours," Alexandra gave him a saddened look. "You should rest."

The older demigod shook his head, "I can't, bossing. Hindi pwede. Not until I know that she's okay."

As if on cue, the head surgeon came out of the operating room. Crispin nearly jolted and would have grabbed the man's collar had it not been for Alex and his brother holding him back, calming him down. No one could tell what he was about to say until he removed his surgical mask.

The four occupants waited for his response, antsy. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"Doc? Is she okay? Is she gonna be alright?" Crispin asked, troubled out of his mind. Alex's grip on his arm tightened, and so did Basilio's hold on his shoulder. "Doc, please say somethi—"

"... I'm sorry," the surgeon shook his head, a somber look on his face.

It was like the universe stopped for the demigod. The two people holding him were the only ones to support him when his knees buckled.

"We did everything we could. She lost too much blood, and the bullets hit too many vital organs," the doctor explained forlornly. "We performed CPR and a cardiac massage on her for thirty minutes, but she did not make it through the rest of the operation."

The words just echoed emptily through Crispin's ears.

"Bakit bigla ka na lang nandiyan sa kabilang buhay?"

When he entered the morgue alone, he didn't know why but he was expecting you to be sitting up and smiling, almost hearing your teasing voice telling him it was all a cruel prank. At first, that was what he saw. He saw the love of his life, soft skin flushed and curled up lips filled with so much love directed at him. He saw you radiant—glowing; that familiar twinkle in your magnificent eyes. He reached out to hold your left hand, awaiting its warmth.

Awaiting the three taps.

The taps that would tell him "I love you" and "I'm okay".

Crispin even waited a minute. Maybe you were still there, hanging on. Maybe... just maybe... you were fighting.

"Mahal?" he croaked out, squeezing your hand.

"Paano na ang lahat? Paano na ako, tayo?"

Those three taps never came. One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes.

Only then did he really see you. The illusion all came crashing down.

Now your skin was so cold. So lifeless. So... opposite from what you were when you were alive. You were pale. Your lips were tinted blue. You were so still. So deathly still. Not one movement.

It freaked him out.

He couldn't believe it was you on that metal table—it didn't look like you. Where was the halo he always saw around your head? Where was that beam of light following you around?

His rose-tinted glasses suddenly became grey and dull. Taking your left hand, Crispin felt his heart shatter even more when his hand brushed the string ring on your finger. They had cleaned you up and made sure there was no blood left on your body, but nothing could remove those tiny, miniscule splatters that stained the string.

Remnants of what happened today.

You never did remove it. Even when showering or swimming or washing the dishes, you'd joked to him.

"See? 'Di ko nga kailangan ng singsing. Mas maganda pa nga 'to, eh. I can wear it all the time! Matibay pa!"

Crispin could nearly hear you, but it was all just a memory in his mind. God, he didn't want to forget your voice. Your laughter. Your cries. You whispering to him how much you loved him. He couldn't. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did.

Both of you didn't even get to say "I love you" one last time. But reality was harsh, and this wasn't a movie where the leading characters could have a lengthy monologue confessing to each other as the dramatic scene was drawn out from seconds into minutes.

There were no camera angles, no music, no time left, and no happy endings. Everything was raw. Real.

"Hindi ba't sinabi mo sa akin na sabay tayong mangangarap?"

"Mahal," his voice trembled as he held your icy hand to his lips, kissing it. "Huwag mo akong iwan. What about us? Our dreams? Andami pa nating pangarap, 'di ba? Mga gustong gawin?"

No response.

"Tatatanda pa tayo, 'di ba? Bibili pa tayo ng bahay na nasa bundok... then we'll travel the world together, right? We've... We've saved up half of the funds! You... You can't leave now..."

Silence.

Crispin felt tears dripping down his face. He hadn't noticed he was crying. Only with you could he be a sniveling mess—around the others, he always had to be the kuya. The responsible one. The oldest one. The loyal bodyguard.

With you? He could be anything and you would never judge him.

Even when you were dead, he was still a sniveling mess in your arms.

"Sabi mo gusto mong manalo sa lotto," he choked out, cupping your cheeks. It was so strange to him; how colorless they were compared to how... spirited you were in life. "I'll do that... I'll make that happen. Just please... please come back to me. Gagawin ko ang lahat... bumalik ka sa akin, mahal. Mahal..."

Crispin told himself nothing was impossible when a god loved someone, yet now all this god could do was be paralyzed by his despair.

"Bakit bigla kang lumisan nang hindi man lang nagpaalam?"

They say there are five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. People don't talk enough about how they weren't actually stages. They were just five emotions and there was no particular order they came in. They would come and go, and that was how dealing with loss really was.

Today, as he was cradling his departed soulmate and the only woman he knew he'd ever love this much—reduced to tears while nursing his broken heart—he was feeling denial, bargaining, and depression all at once.

Only then did he allow himself to feel anger—just pure, unadulterated fury—when Alexandra let him and his brother unleash their bloodlust to the guilty aswang clan that had been the culprits of the mall shooting. The bank robbery.

He had his vengeance.

The son of the wargod nearly became a god of war that night, coming home soaked in the same crimson that dripped off his guns. He swore to himself he'd rip the world apart for you and build it back from scratch. Thus, Crispin was merciless to those who murdered you and all those other innocent humans.

He took his time watching the life dissipate out of their eyes, especially since he didn't see yours before you died. They were already closed when he got to the hospital too late.

Denial, anger, bargaining, and depression. He'd felt all that as time passed, on and off.

Acceptance? That last stage? That last emotion? Crispin never did really get to that point. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he wouldn't. Only more time would tell.

"Isang malamig na hangin ang yumakap sa akin."

The demigod sat under the tree that shaded your gravestone, a bouquet of white and red roses beside him while he relaxed on the grass. It was a classic symbol of true and everlasting love. That was the vow you'd made to one another, right?

December 1st.

It had been one year since your death. Wasn't it funny how the fates worked? Two years ago, on this very day, you two promised each other that you'd be together forever. He said that this day would be memorable to him until the day he died because technically, it was your engagement slash informal wedding anniversary.

Then one year ago, you had been shot trying to protect a child from those armed aswang. You saved the kid, alright. Crispin even made sure that the little boy, one of the lucky survivors of the shooting, wouldn't be targeted by the aswang. He ensured your sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. But what was supposed to be a marriage anniversary turned into your death anniversary.

December 1st.

The day would indeed be eternally ingrained into his mind.

But now, he could only dwell on nostalgia as he crouched and cleaned your gravestone, polishing it after removing all the grass and dirt. Engraved on it were the words beloved friend, sister, and wife.

Wife.

He really should have married you before you were declared dead. It didn't matter now; you would always be his wife, even in death.

On the left side of your gravestone was his mother's tombstone. He did the same, cleaning it and polishing it. When he was done, he tapped your gravestone thrice, "Una na ako, mahal. Paalam din, Ma. Baka hanapin pa ako ni bossing."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He jerked, swerving around and standing up. He swore someone just touched his shoulder and—

Whoosh!

"Parang isang pahiwatig na magpapaalam ka na."

A gentle breeze came from behind him, where the tree was. Once more, he turned around.

Crispin didn't know what to do.

He thought he was dreaming, but he wasn't. He knew he wasn't. Not with the way your hand rested on his cheek. Not with how warm you felt.

Despite seeming almost transparent, you looked absolutely radiant, more so than when you were in life. If he was biased before about you having a halo and a beam of light following you around, now he wasn't (because you really did have a golden circle on your head and a candescent glow behind you).

You didn't speak, but again, you tapped your index finger thrice on his cheek. He was too stunned to react to the featherlight touch you had. It was almost nothing, but it was there. A ghostly tap, tap, tap.

"... Mahal?" he whispered.

You joyfully beamed at him (God, did you look divine), then planted a fragile kiss on his lips. You settled down on the roots of the tree and patted the patch of grass beside it. He sat down slowly. When he did, he removed his black gloves while you intertwined your hand with his.

On his left ring finger was a string ring made from that old shirt of yours. The same one you improvised your string ring from. It was how Crispin always remembered you and how he brought your memory everywhere with him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The triple tapping. Perhaps it was your way of wordlessly saying you loved him while simultaneously bidding him goodbye as a ghost. He didn't know. You couldn't speak (or he couldn't hear you), so you did what you could.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Just that gesture every once in a while as you quietly listened to him tell you about his day.

When he had to leave, he saw you there by the tree, sitting and waving at him. The next time he came to visit, you were there. Always there, waiting.

And when you weren't, after a couple of decades, Crispin knew that it was time for him to let you go.

To let himself move on.

But that didn't mean he stopped hurting or stopped loving you. He could never stop loving you. Never.

Kahit kailangan ka niyang bitawan upang makapagpatuloy ka sa kabilang buhay, habangbuhay kang minahal ng isang diyos ng digmaan.

× AUTHOR'S NOTE ×

Nasa mood kasi akong manakit ng tao (because ngayon ko lang pinanood ang mga pelikula ni Rico Yan & Claudine Barretto after his death; ang pait eh, right person but wrong time). Medyo sadista pala ako, haha. Ayun, pati ako umiiyak habang nagsusulat nito. Even when I was showering, I was still crying and blowing my nose out. Sana nagustuhan niyo kasi pati author niyo nasaktan sa ginawa niya. 🥲😅

And that tapping gesture was inspired by a random Reddit post I saw years ago. As someone whose love language ain't saying stuff out loud, that just really called out to me. Acts of service kasi akin, eh.

Anyways, I finished writing this at like, 12AM. I'll just edit the typos and errors tomorrow because I want to get this oneshot off my chest. Goodnight! 😂💤

Comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, too! (Yes, you may also rant at me for this.) 💙

TAGLIST: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @hannalogies @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie @haliya-mori

#trese #trese 2021 #trese netflix #crispin #crispin x reader #trese fic #x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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tails89 · 3 years

Note

If you’re still doing the prompts thing, could you do #20 (“This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with...I’m in.”) with Buddie from 9-1-1 please? And if not, no worries. :)

Hey there, sorry this took so long. Sometimes my brain just doesn't want to cooperate...

Anyway, hope you enjoy (I changed the prompt a lil)

Also posted on AO3

“Here.” The beer appears in Buck’s peripheral vision, and he reaches for it, fingers slipping in the cool condensation that beads down the side of the bottle.

“Thanks man.” He takes a long sip and stares out into the backyard. “Oh, hey. How were parent teacher interviews yesterday?”

Eddie groans and drops heavily onto the porch swing, throwing his legs up on the railing beside Buck’s.

“They were fine,” he says, taking a long drink from his beer.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound fine,” Buck says, twisting to face Eddie. “Is everything okay with Chris? Is there—"

“Christopher’s fine.” Eddie cuts Buck off before he can get too worked up. “He’s doing well in school, got lots of friends.”

“Oh.” Buck takes a sip of his own drink. “So, what’s the matter then?”

Eddie pulls his feet from the railing and plants them on the porch.

“He’s got this one teacher, and every time I see her, she’s got something to say about me being a single dad.” Eddie leans forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “Like I’m not good enough for him on my own.”

“You know that’s bullshit,” Buck says. “You’re a great dad.”

Eddie just waves him off.

“Anyway, she was going on about my job and how the long hours aren’t fair on Chris and how alone he is... anyway... Chris told her he’s not alone. He said he’s got me and Carla, Pepa and Abuela and... his Buck.”

“Of course, Eds, you know we’re all there for Chris.”

“I know but, I just—I don’t know why I said it.” Eddie leans back against the swing, staring out into the night.

“Said what?”

“I may have told her we were together...”

The half-mouthful of beer goes down the wrong hole and Buck chokes.

“What?” He wipes his sleeve against his mouth to catch the liquid that’s spilled down his chin.

“It just came out. She kept going on about the type of home environment I was providing, and I know I shouldn’t have let it get to me, but—Chris was so excited. I tried to tell him it wasn’t true—"

“Eddie, it’s fine.” Buck fidgets with the label on his bottle. He can’t quite bring himself to look at his best friend, afraid his face will give him away. It makes sense now why Chris was so happy to see him today, and perhaps why it had taken so long for Eddie to get him into bed. “You need to tell him though.”

“I know.” Eddie sighs and drains his beer. “I honestly didn’t think he’d be excited about the prospect of me dating again. We haven’t really talked about it.”

Buck isn’t excited about the idea of Eddie dating again, dating someone else. He keeps his mouth shut though and finishes his beer. The seeds of a very terrible, stupid plan start to take root in his brain.

“Hey, if uh,” the words stick in his throat. “If you need some time, to tell Chris, I don’t mind pretending for a day or two.” Buck’s heart is pounding so loud in his chest, he wonders if Eddie can hear it too. “Just until you do.”

Eddie laughs, tipping his head back against the seat.

“That is, without a doubt, the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with...” he says, still chuckling.

“Ha, yeah,” Buck plasters a grin on his face. “Pretty stupid.”

“You know what, I’m in,” Eddie says, regaining his composure. “Just for a day or so. I’ve got the rest of the parent teacher interviews tomorrow night and then I’ll sit Chris down and explain it was a misunderstanding.”

“What about the rest of the team?” Buck asks. “We’ve got a ten-hour shift tomorrow. What happens if they find out?”

“They won’t.” Eddie’s tone is warm and reassuring but Buck shakes his head.

“It just takes one,” he points out. “If Maddie finds out, she’ll tell Chim. And if Chim finds out—” he lets his head tip back with a groan, “—he’ll tell everyone.”

“Is it really that big of a deal?” Eddie asks him, planting his feet back on the porch and sitting up.

Yes, because if people find out that they’re ‘dating’ they’ll have questions and Buck can’t handle that kind of scrutiny, not when he’s already harbouring major feelings for his best friend.

“No,” he says instead. “I guess not. It’s just one day. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Buck pulls up at the station bright and early the next morning. He parks beside Eddie’s truck, a smile spreading across his face when he realises he has Chris with him.

“Bucky!” Chris's whole face lights up and he throws his arms around Buck.

“Hey bud.” Buck ruffles the kid’s hair and walks with them towards the firehouse. “What are you doing here?”

“Pepa’s running late,” Eddie explains. “She got caught up in traffic, so she’s going to pick Chris up from here. She shouldn’t be long,” he says, addressing Bobby this time.

“It’s not a problem. You hungry Chris?” Bobby asks, matching Chris’ pace as they head for the stairs. “I’ll see what I can rustle up for breakfast and you can tell me all about school.”

Chris nods along enthusiastically, following on behind Bobby.

“Hey Christopher.” Chimney leans over the balcony rail. “You got any fun stories for us kid?”

“Oh yeah!” Chris hands his dad one of his crutches so he can free up a hand to grip the stair rail. “Did you guys know Dad and Buck are dating?”

Every eye in the building turns to them.

The thing about the station is that it’s never truly quiet. There’s always some noise, some movement, no matter the time of day. But in that moment Buck could have heard a pin drop.

Hen is the first to break the silence.

“Alright, pay up.” She waves her fingers in Chim's face. “Better luck next time boys,” she crows, holding out her hands.

“I definitely heard you say November,” Chimney argues.

“I said, before November.” Hen grins. “It’s before November. Now pay up.”

“You couldn’t have waited just a few more weeks?” Chimney asks them. “Really, is that too much to ask?”

“What is happening right now?” Buck stares at his friends in disbelief. “Have you all been taking bets on us?”

Hen and Chimney share a look. “Uh, yes.”

They say it together, Hen bursting into laughter at the indignation on Buck’s face. “Oh please, you think you’re so hard to read? You wear your heart on your sleeve, Buckaroo. I read you.”

She counts the money she’s won, stuffing the notes into her pocket. “You boys just paid for my anniversary dinner. I can’t wait to tell Karen.” She pauses. “I don’t suppose you two also offer babysitting services?”

Buck bites his lip to hold back the panic clawing at his chest. His gaze flicks to Eddie, laughing and reassuring Chris that he’s not in trouble for spilling the beans. He’s acting like it’s nothing—like their whole team hasn’t been plotting behind their backs.

Eddie had promised that no one else would know, but that had gone down the drain in seconds. And now what? Do they keep up the lie or do they come clean? The idea of telling everyone that it’s not real is worse than knowing they’d been betting on him and Eddie getting together. Or do they already know that too? Maybe that’s the next bet and they’re all just waiting.

“I, uh—” Buck takes a half step back. “I’ll just be back in a minute.”

He doesn’t run for the stairs. He keeps his gait even until he’s at the bottom of the staircase and then he makes his escape to the bathrooms.

Buck spends the rest of the day avoiding the team. Well, avoiding them as much as he is able while still doing his job. While they’re at the station, he finds chores to keep himself busy, ignoring the looks he gets from Hen and Chim and ignoring the friendly teasing that he can’t take a joke.

Avoiding Eddie is the worst. Buck can’t bring himself to do it. He constantly finds himself gravitating back towards his best friend, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Buck keeps waiting for Eddie to pull him aside and ask why he’s not keeping his end of the bargain. Eddie keeps looking over at him, face pinched with an expression Buck can’t quite name. He’s probably pissed Buck couldn’t even keep it up for twenty-four hours, and now they’re both going to look like fools in front of the rest of the team.

“Thought I’d find you hiding in here.”

Buck glances up from the bunk to catch Bobby leaning in the doorway.

“I’m not hiding.”

“Good, because lunch is ready.” He goes to leave, then stops, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “For what it’s worth Buck, we’re happy for you. Both of you.”

“Thanks Bobby.” Buck stands slowly, inhaling deeply. He can do this. He can pretend to be dating Eddie in front of his co-workers while also somehow pretending that he’s not wildly in love with his best friend. He’s got this, no problem.

Buck lets the breath go in a rush.

He’s so fucked.

Everyone’s eyes look up as Buck reaches the kitchen. He’s the last to sit and there’s just the one spare seat left beside Eddie.

As he settles into the chair, Eddie bumps their knees together under the table and offers Buck a reassuring smile.

“So,” Chim says reaching for the salad bowl. “I need details. When did this start?” He gestures between the two of them with the salad tongs before loading up his plate.

“Yeah, how long have you been keeping this from us?” Albert pipes up.

Buck swallows against the lump in his throat. They should have come up with something, just in case, but now they have nothing and—

“It was a few weeks after I got home from the hospital.”

Buck glances across at Eddie, brows knit together in confusion.

“I’d broken up with Ana and Buck was over a lot, helping with Chris,” Eddie explains, accepting a plate from Hen. “There was this one day. Buck had just got back after dropping Chris at school and we realised Chris had forgotten to take this book he’d wanted for show and tell.”

Buck can feel his frown deepening. He remembers this.

“Anyway, Buck wanted to go all the way back to Chris’ school to give it to him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Eddie’s looking at him now, holding Buck’s gaze as he recounts the story. The whole team is looking at them, the heat of their scrutiny makes Buck squirm in his seat. “I said it didn’t matter, Chris could just take it another day, but Buck said—"

“It matters to Chris.” Buck feels his face flush. At the time, Eddie had laughed and said something about Buck being too good for them before Buck had run out of the house clutching the book.

“It just kind of hit me, you know?” Eddie finally looks away, reaching for the bread rolls in the middle of the table. “Just how lucky I am to have him and how much he cares about us and… I kissed him.”

There’s a collective gasp from around the table and all eyes turn back on Buck.

“And what did you do, Buckaroo?” Hen asks, leaning forward in her seat.

“I uh—” Buck glances at Eddie, eyes wide. “I kissed him back?”

“Yeah, and it was about damn time,” Chimney shouts around a mouthful of pasta. “You guys are so cute. It’s disgusting.”

The rest of the shift is better after that. Everyone seems satisfied by their story and Buck lets himself fall back into his regular comfortable rhythm, hanging with Eddie between call outs. There is still some awkwardness to it, Buck can’t stop his mind from wandering back to that morning, imagining what it would have been like if it had gone more like Eddie’s story. He’s surprised Eddie even remembered it, it had been just another day between the regular doctor and physical therapy appointments that consumed his every waking minute.

He waits until later that night to say anything. Chris is in bed and they’re back on the porch nursing a beer each.

“Can I, uh, ask you a question?” Buck tears at the label on his bottle. “That thing you said at lunch, about how we got together…” He trails off, not quite sure how to verbalise the whirlwind of feelings it had stirred in him.

“Yeah, well I had to say something convincing,” Eddie says, taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Buck had spent the whole afternoon thinking that maybe, just maybe his feelings for Eddie weren’t as one-sided as he’d initially thought. This though, this is like a bucket of ice water to the face. “I don’t think I can do this, Eds.”

Eddie’s head jerks up.

“I thought I could pretend, but I can’t.”

“Why did you suggest it then?” Eddie doesn’t sound angry. Buck almost wishes he did, it would be easier if the were both yelling at each other. Anything would be better than the soft disappointment in Eddie’s tone.

“I thought—” Buck takes a breath and tries again. “I wasn’t thinking when I suggested it. I think there was just a part of me that thought that getting to pretend with you was better than nothing. It’s not though, it just made it that much more obvious how much I want this— want us.” Putting down his beer, Buck goes to stand. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna go—”

“Wait. Buck.” Eddie catches his arm. “I should have kissed you.”

“What?”

“Chris’ show and tell. I didn’t kiss you that day, but I wanted to. You were just out the door so damn fast.”

“You wanted to kiss me?”

Eddie pulls him back down onto the swing with a fond eyeroll. “We’re you not listening to my story at lunch?” he asks, voice teasing. “I meant what I said about how it just hit me. You’re amazing Buck, and Chris and I are both so lucky to have someone like you, someone who cares with everything you have. I think I’ve loved you for a while, but that morning I knew.”

“I love you too.” Buck knows he’s grinning like an idiot, but right now he doesn’t care. “I know you didn’t kiss me back then but… you can kiss me now.”

And Eddie does.

It starts off soft and slow—a tentative brushing of their lips, but then as neither of them back off it grows more desperate. Buck curls his fingers in the hem of Eddie’s shirt, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulls away, they’re both red-faced and breathing hard.

“So, I guess this means we don’t need to break up,” Buck says with a laugh.

“No,” Eddie agrees. “I plan on keeping you around for a long time.”

#9-1-1 #buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fanfic #fake dating #my911fanfic

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ouyangzizhensdad · 4 years

Note

So one thing I am confused about. I see a lot of takes on how Wwx acted like a gay stereotype in the first few chapters. And this is pointed out as a mark of his homophobia (as in he's homophobic because he thinks that's how a gay person would act). But, from context of the book, it seems to me he's weaponizing what *society* will think a gay man would act like to get out of what he views as a dangerous situation? As in, to me he's deliberately playing up stereotypes... (1/2)

(2/2) to make people uncomfortable and leave him alone. This isn't to say he's not internalized some stuff. Working through those feelings is a major part of the book. But it feels like people seem to be missing the fact that he's using how people are uncomfortable with Mxy as a means to get out of what he sees as a tight situation. Rather like how we get a woman using 'lady problems' as an excuse to make men uncomfortable and leave her alone. Or am I completely of the mark?

Oh anon, dear anon, how did you know I’ve been meaning to write a post about this since I’ve first been introduced to these takes? Have you taken a trip to the dark recesses of my mind lately (or maybe spied on my drafts)?

Before we get started, I do want to address the fact that the ExR translation, which is generally how international fans first access the novel, uses terms/ways of phrasing things about cut-sleeves that make it seem more connoted than what you can see in the original chinese, thereby colouring how we may perceive WWX’s opinions on cutsleeves (since he is the narrator). If you compare pumpkinpaix’s translation of chapter 2 to that of ExR’s, you may understand what I mean (I personally went and checked the original with my limited chinese skills and pumpkinpaix’s is the most faithful translation imo).

Compare and contrast:

Pumpkinpaix’s translation: “Thank goodness, this body had not been born with a strange appearance, only strange tastes. Here was a grown man who not only wore a full face of rouge and powder, but wore it in such an ugly fashion!“

ExR scans’ translation: “Fortunately, the body wasn’t born this way—it was only one of the owner’s penchants. He was no-doubt a man, yet he was covered with makeup (not to mention, badly applied makeup). Ugh, how unbearable!“

And another:

Pumpkinpaix’s translation: “Not only chased, but banished with great shame: for Mo Xuanyu was a cutsleeve who even dared to recklessly molest and harass his peers. With this public scandal, along with the mediocrity of his talent and the insignificance of his cultivation progress, there was no reason to let him stay in the family any longer.

To make matters worse, no one knew what kind of shock he’d suffered, but after he returned, he seemed to have gone completely mad. He had good days and bad—it was as if he had been scared witless. After reading to this point, Wei Wuxian furrowed his brow. Being just a cutsleeve was one thing, but a lunatic as well! No wonder his face was all covered in powder and rouge like an old hanged ghost, and no wonder no one found the bloody array surprising.”

ExR scans’ translation: “On top of that, he was driven back shamefully.Mo XuanYu was homosexual, and had enough nerve to harass the other disciples. The scandal was revealed to the public and, as he had few achievements in terms of cultivation, there were no reasons for him to stay in the clan.Like adding frost to snow, aside from the event itself, when Mo XuanYu returned, he often behaved in a crazy manner, almost as if his life was scared out of him.The story was almost too complex to be put into words. Wei WuXian’s eyebrows twitched.Not only a lunatic, a homosexual lunatic as well. That explained why there were enough rouge and powder on his face to make him look like a hanged ghost, and also why nobody was surprised at the large, bloody array on the ground.”

See how the latter translation makes it seem as if WWX were thinking that being a gay lunatic is worse than being a lunatic, and that him being a ‘gay lunatic’ explains his appearance; whereas, in the former, it appears to be more of a comment about how MXY was perceived by his family as a disgrace, and underlines that the fact he is a “lunatic” explains how ‘usual’ his appearance and the shack’s disarray were to his cousin and his lackeys.

But to address your actual point, I think saying that WWX weaponizes what society think of how a gay would act is still an oversimplification. WWX is in fact weaponizing the very specific nature of MXY’s reputation, which includes him being known to be:

a lunatic

a cutsleeve

a molester/harasser

The fact that people even suggest that this is how WWX views gay people is ludicrous to me because of the context in which it is presented in the novel. WWX is not trying to “pass” as MXY by attempting what he believes to be an authentic performance of being a gay man. WWX, from the get-go, acts in public in ways that are incompatible with what he knows of MXY. When he first gets out of the shack, he acts in ways he knows are contrary to how MXY would have acted.

“Thinking to recover the face he’d [A-Tong] just lost, he jumped over and, like one would reprimand a dog, waved his hand and scolded, “Shoo, shoo! Go back! What did you come out for!”

Even towards a beggar or a fly, one wouldn’t be more unpleasant. These servants had very likely acted like this towards Mo Xuanyu in the past. After all, he never resisted, so they could be this unscrupulously reckless. Wei Wuxian, with a light kick, knocked A’Tong head over heels, laughing, “Now, who is it you think you’re insulting?”

Finished kicking, he followed the sound of the hubbub, walking towards the east.“ [Chapter 3 ]

Instead, WWX weaponizes MXY’s reputation (the trifecta of lunatic-cutsleeve-harasser) whenever he needs it to either 1) get the information he needs/test a theory, 2) manipulate people into certain actions 3) quickly get out of a sticky situation. Again, it is not meant to be an authentic representation of what he believes to be a gay man: it is a targeted attack with expected results.

Let’s take for instance the East Hall Scene at Mo Mansion. WWX goes there, and slips into a lunatic persona which, from what we can infer by the Mo Family’s reaction, is not even a close performance of MXY’s “lunacy”. At this point, WWX is trying to test out if publicly humiliating the Mo Family will be enough to fulfill his part of the contract MXY forced upon him. It is the first time he brings up MXY’s being a cutsleeve, and he does so in the process of trying to cause disgrace by implying his cousin might not have had pure intentions towards him. The text makes it clear that he is only doing so to attack the Mo Family’s face, implying unspeakable designs upon MXY by his cousin.

Unexpectedly, Wei Wuxian spoke again, “Speaking of, he not only shouldn’t have stolen my things, he really shouldn’t have gone to steal them in the middle of the night. Who doesn’t know, this son here likes men! He might not know shame, but I know not to tie my shoes in a melon patch!”

Madam Mo gasped in horror, shouting, “What are you saying in front of your village elders! How can you have so little face; A’Yuan is your younger cousin!”

When it came to wild displays of atrocious behavior, Wei Wuxian was a master. In the past when he ran wild, he still had to mind appearances for he couldn’t let others accuse him of having no family upbringing, but now since he was a lunatic anyways, what face did he need! He could go straight to making a scene, acting on whatever pleased him. He straightened his neck and stated with righteous confidence, “He clearly knows he’s my younger cousin, and he still didn’t try to avoid arousing suspicion—exactly who has less face?! If you don’t want any, fine, but don’t spoil my innocence! I still want to find a good man!!!” [Chapter 3]

It is also important to remember MXY’s reputation as a molester/harrasser, which WWX leans into at certain points in the novel (for instance when he gets ‘caught’ trying to steal LWJ’s seal to exit the Cloud Recesses and pretends to have been spying on him bathing to try to get kicked out instead). I do not consider that WWX actually believes at face-value the accusations; like LWJ, he is wary of judging without having all the information, having himself suffered groundless accusations (and, surprise surprise, it turns out the accusations were fabricated by JGY! btw, for all the people out there who say MXTX is homophobic because she wrote a gay character who’s a molester...... i am begging you to get some reading comprehension, even store-bought is fine at this point). And if people think MXTX did not mean to emphasize the importance of that reputation, I ask them to please pay attention to what is said before WWZ implies JC is trying to flirt with him/flirts with LWJ later on in the novel (in front, as well, of many of the Juniors). Notice how we are getting the trifecta again?:

Even after thinking it over multiple times, Jiang Cheng still couldn’t accept the fact [that Zidian had not worked]. He pointed at Wei Wuxian and scowled, “Who on Earth are you?”

Finally, a meddlesome bystander added a word to the conversation. He coughed, “Jiang-zongzhu, you might have not paid attention to these things and thus remained unaware. Mo Xuanyu was part the LanlingJin Sect’s… Ahem, he used to be a foreign disciple of the Jin Sect. But, because his spiritual powers were low and he didn’t work hard in his studies, and also had that… He harassed a peer and was thrown out of the LanlingJin Sect. I’ve also heard that he lost his marbles? In my opinion, he was probably bitter from being unable to cultivate using the correct path and ventured off onto the wrong one.”

Jiang Cheng asked, “That? What do you mean?”

“That… As in that…”

Someone couldn’t help but comment, “The cut-sleeve penchant!”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows twitched. His eyes which stared at Wei Wuxian seemed more disgusted than before. [Chapter 9]

The text also makes it clear that WWX is drawing upon more than just “Eww gay!” when he’s weaponizing MXY’s reputation to try to get away from JC and LWJ. He’s also thinking about JC’ inferiority complex and LWJ’s (perceived) serious nature.

“Then,” Jiang Cheng replied coldly, “why is Lan-er-gongzi going to such great lengths to protect an unimportant person such as him?”

Out of the blue, Wei Wuxian suppressed laughter could be heard.

“Jiang-zongzhu, umm, I’ll feel very troubled if you keep on bothering me like this.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrow twitched again. His instincts told him that this person would definitely not say anything pleasant next.

"Thank you for being so enthusiastic, but your thoughts are quite off. Even though I am attracted to men, I don’t like just any type of man, much less follow anyone who waves at me. I’m not interested in men like you.”

Wei Wuxian was purposely trying to disgust him. Jiang Cheng had always hated being defeated when compared with others, no matter how pointless the comparison was. If anyone said that he was not as good as someone else, he’d get angered and not think about anything else until he won against them. As expected, Jiang Cheng’s face darkened.

“Oh, really? Then, may I ask which type you’re interested in?

“Which type?” he replied, “Well, I am very much attracted to people like Hanguang-jun.”

Lan Wangji could not tolerate this sort of frivolous and foolish joke at all. If he felt disgusted, he would definitely draw a line between them and keep his distance. Disgusting two people at once—this was killing two birds with one stone!” [Chapter 9]

I won’t go through all the examples and moments in the novel (even in forced-voluntary self-isolation it is too much to ask out of me), but I hope my point was illustrated well enough with just these! Thank you again for your ask, it forced me to finally write it all down!

#mdzs meta #mdzs #anti-mxtx discourse #wwx #mxy #lwj #Anonymous #long post

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ladyc0312 · 4 years

Text

A Jikook Guide to RunBTS: 30-39

One general trend to point out that’s true pretty much all series long, but was particularly noticeable to me starting around these episodes - JK and JM end up next to each other an unusually high percentage of the time when the guys choose where they're standing / sitting. Like, I initially thought I was only noticing it because I was primed to notice KM stuff, so I started tracking some other random pairs for comparison, and there’s no contest.

Also, this is when the show started really hitting its groove. I’d seen nearly all the Run episodes before going back and rewatching for this guide. There were some I rewatched at 1.5x speed and others I happily rewatched normally. There are many more of the later starting around here.

As usual, let me know if I’ve missed anything or should take another look at something!

Ep 30 "The Variety Show of Memories Part 1"

(Ep: 4 / KM: 1)

The ones with dancing, games, sleepy Kookie, and the tomato song that will embed itself in your brain

20:00 - JK picks Jimin for the quiz challenge without using honorifics. Jimin calls him out for it and JK jokes back, then actually apologizes.

BEHIND 5:47 - JK is the only one to clap when Jimin does a funny dance

Ep 31 "The Variety Show of Memories Part 2" (Ep: 5 / KM: 0)

None. But seriously, guys, this episode is a must-watch regardless.

Ep 32 "Take Care of Santa" (Ep: 3 / KM: 1)

The one where everyone runs around like crazy in Santa hats with pig balloons as J-Hope not-so-secretly tries to steal them

9:08 - Jimin spots JK hiding in a tunnel and crawls in to talk to him despite suspecting that he's the thief

27:50 - Jimin asks JK for the balloon he opened up to make his voice high with helium gas. JK gives it to him and they both say goodbyes in high-pitched voices at 28:14

Ep 33 "BTS and Manito Part 1" (Ep: 5 / KM: 3)

The ones where the guys jump for pictures, cheat at puzzles, and give each other gifts

1:59 - Jimin laughs a little when he sees that he's chosen JK as his Manito 3:56 - Jimin asks "Jungkook, why are you so cute?" and for some reason the on-screen text emphasizes this by popping up under Jimin's face saying "Jimin finding Jungkook very cute" 10:01 - Jimin comments on how high JK jumped and the on-screen text continues to call him out by tagging him as "amazed by Jungkook's jumping skills" 11:06 - Jimin singles out JK for praise for another good photo (on-screen text: "so hilarious") 12:00 - Jimin tells JK that he wants to give him a point for his acting, but his shoulders didn't make it into the shot 14:10 - Jimin AGAIN compliments JK (maybe he felt bad because he judged him as not properly in the picture the prev round) and the on-screen text wants to make sure we know Jimin is "amazed" I really can't tell if whoever writes this stuff is onto Jimin or is just also in love with JK, but I find the constant commentary hilarious either way 16:06 - Jimin gets JK to try to coordinate photo-bombing RM's pic BEHIND 5:05 - When JK is taking pictures of the posed photos he finds funny, takes two of Jimin (and you can see he's zoomed in on Jimin's face in both) while laughing adorably

Ep 34 "BTS and Manito Part 2" (Ep: 5, KM: 3)

8:46 - JM & JK decide to work together as a team to solve the puzzle

11:54 and 14:46 - JK and JM playfully grab and shove each other a bit to get to the mic first

15:41 - After Jimin and JK get bingo at the same time, they high five and Jimin comments "there's something about us"

15:55 - Jimin has moved his chair so he's sitting super close to JK and has seems to have his hand on his back for an extended period of time

23:27 - When they say Jimin failed his manito mission to make finger hearts with JK, they do it together and pose cutely here. Then, JK reminds JM that he actually did it successfully when the main cameras weren't on them by talking with JK about how different people make finger hearts. Jimin shakes JK's hand in thanks for the validation.

24:17 - It's quick, but you can see Jimin tapping JK to make a comment to him while the focus is on Jin.

25:53 - Jimin makes a comment about being a calico cat after JK has opened Jimin's manito gift and seen that it's a cat lamp. I mention it because I've seen some people connect that to "Serendipity" being a jikook thing, which I buy generally but, in this particular instance, Jimin had no way of knowing which member his present would end up going to. BEHIND 2:38 - JK does a joking imitation of acting out a food and Jimin playfully slaps him on the arm 3:41 - The same thing happens again when JK makes another funny face

Ep 35 "Kimchi Battle" (Ep: 3, KM: 3)

The one where, as you’d expect from the title, BTS makes kimchi

1:12 - JK taps Jimin on the chest when they say he can call his mom for help 1:23 - JM has his arm around JK's shoulders for a while and then moves his hand down to his lower back at 1:38 11:24 - JM has JK smell something gross and is impressed when JK has no reaction 16:38 - JK goes over to taste and compliment JM's kimchi and gets scolded by Suga for having his back to the camera 18:03 - JM watches closely as JK mixes the kimchi and the others compliment his arms 18:21 - Jimin continues staring at said arms 19:21 - Still staring 20:19 - More staring as the others all compliment JK's arms again 21:16 - Guess who's still watching JK? This time JM looks particularly impressed when JK lifts a heavy container 21:38 - Even the on-screen text has noticed the staring at this point and captions this "looking sweetly at Jungkook" 23:23 - Jimin tells JK the kimchi won't taste good yet because it's too fresh and looks at him affectionately, then compliments how good it looks. 24:38 - JM compliment's JK's kimchi again. He really seems much more invested in JK's work than his own this ep BEHIND 0:44 - JK claps for the slate and JM hits himself over his heart right after, making JK (and no one else) laugh 5:52 - Jimin wipes the sweat off JK's neck as he works on mixing the kimchi. When Jin does the same for JK's forehead right after, Jimin says that they look like two brothers and it looks like Jin's hating what he's doing.

Ep 36 "Kimchi Wars" (Ep: 3, KM: 1)

The one where the above kimchi is used in a cooking competition

None. JM and JK cooking together on the same team is cute, but everyone is cooking together, so there’s nothing uniquely jikook in the episode itself. BEHIND 5:10 - JK starts clapping a beat and JM joins in with his tongs and dances 6:35 - As JK films some of the food, someone (not quite sure who) comments that they've never seen any of JK's work except for when he went on vacation with Jimin

Ep 37 "BTS Marble Returns" (Ep: 1?, KM: 1)

The one in this set that I have absolutely no memory of

5:41 - When JK loses and rolls around in annoyance, Jimin comments twice how cute he is

Ep 38 "Spin BTS" (Ep: 3 / KM: 3)

The one where they play a bunch of strange games while Suga is dressed as Chimmy

2:33 - JK smiles at and compliments JM's penalty suggestion

4:47 - Before starting this game, JM said that he wasn’t good at games requiring strength. Here, JK points out twice that Jimin isn't being moved by the ropes

5:42 - JK compliments Jimin at the game again, saying he's like a bull

7:05 - Despite being on Jin's team, JM goes over to watch JK complete his puzzle

10:02 - After JHope identifies a sound as Jimin sneezing, JK says he was going to say that too and grabs Jimin's arm to ask him if he knew

11:33 - One second clip of an interaction that starts with JM putting his hand near JK's face, but it's cut off

21:30 - When other members are practicing imitating people, JK tells them to do Jimin next

BEHIND 5:50 - When asked to guess why Jimin made an upset noise, both Jimin and Jin guess (wrongly) that it had something to do with JK

Ep 39 "BTS Golden Bell Part 1" (Ep: 3, KM: 3)

The one in which JK learns that he far prefers being a competitor than an MC

1:14 - After JK announces that he's offering up his computer as the prize, Jimin turns around and gives him a quick side hug

1:29 - After they decide JK will be the MC and it's clear JK is nervous about it, Jimin starts fixing something on JK’s uniform and pats him on the shoulder while advising him how to deliver some of the words. He also seems to remind him to ring the bell at 2:24

2:52 - JK and JM stand super close when he asks him questions, to the point where the on-screen text asks "Must you stand so close?" at 3:05

3:50 - This may be reading too much into things, but Jimin's body language and the way he's not smiling like the rest of them made me wonder if he was annoyed about them taking the MC role away from JK...

7:55 - While celebrating his team's win, JK dances over to Jimin, who smiles and gives him a high-five even though the other members of Jimin's team are unhappy about losing

16:36 - When JK accidentally calls out his own name instead of someone to challenge, Jimin walks over and hugs him while laughing

BEHIND 0:56 - JK and JM joke around together 5:40 - Slightly different angle of the 16:36 moment above

#jikook #kookmin #run bts #jikook guide to run bts

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dweemeister · 4 years

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Flower Drum Song (1961)

M*A*S*H and Star Trek: The Next Generation have long been television favorites of mine. My parents introduced me to both shows – fixtures in American entertainment as Vietnamese refugee families fled to and renewed their lives in the United States. The writers of M*A*S*H, a show set during the Korean War, did not make it a secret that the show mirrored American involvement in the Vietnam War. M*A*S*H understandably focused its attention on its mostly white doctors, nurses, and non-coms. But from time to time, the show railed against war’s horrible effects on the local populace, on whose land such bloodshed is waged. In these episodes, M*A*S*H always cast Asian-American actors of varying ethnicities to play the Koreans (the value of these depictions of Koreans varies, but it is evident the all-white writing staff gave their best effort to portray Koreans in their full humanity). For a show that aired from 1971-1983, this was a radical decision as yellowface was still a widely-accepted practice in Hollywood. Star Trek, in its various incarnations, has espoused “Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations” from its inception. Numerous Asian-American recurring actors and guest stars of these shows have appeared in these shows I cherish (and many others) for decades. My memory flows with many of their faces and voices, even if I do not recall their names.

Adapted from C.Y. Lee’s novel of the same name, Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II’s musical Flower Drum Song debuted on Broadway in 1958. The musical resembled nothing currently on the Great White Way, with an almost entirely all-Asian cast. Yet this musical still caused consternation. Some Asian-Americans expressed their rightful disapproval towards Rodgers and Hammerstein’s patronizing dialogue and racially insensitive characterizations. For this film adaptation by Universal (this is the only Rodgers and Hammerstein film adaptation without 20th Century Fox’s involvement), screenwriter Joseph Fields – who collaborated with Hammerstein on Flower Drum Song’s book – made major adjustments in order to stem controversy. Fields rearranged the plot and soundtrack and, most importantly, rewrote more than half of Flower Drum Song’s dialogue in order to accomplish a more respectful (if still imperfect) portrayal of all the musical’s characters.

The reworked Flower Drum Song attracted a star-studded Asian-American cast. So many in this cast are actors and actresses I have known only through their guest or recurring television roles, maybe the odd extra in a movie. To see them act in non-denigrating roles, sing, and dance in a major Hollywood studio feature film was revelatory. I admit, while viewing Flower Drum Song, feeling pangs of frustration over how Hollywood’s structural racism precluded too many in this cast from stardom. But that frustration was overcome by joy – a joy in seeing these Asian-American actors display their talents in a fashion I, even in 2020, long to witness. Though still constrained by Rodgers and Hammerstein’s stereotypical views towards people of Asian descent, Flower Drum Song is a unique cinematic experience.

Mei Li (Miyoshi Umeki) and her father, Dr. Han Li (Kam Tong) have stowed away on a ship carrying them from their home in China to San Francisco. The Lis are here to complete Sammy Fong’s (Jack Soo) request for a mail-order bride. Sammy is the slick-talking owner of the Celestial Gardens nightclub, who just so happens to be in a relationship with his principal showgirl, Linda Low (Nancy Kwan). So when the Lis arrive at the nightclub, Sammy realizes the pickle he has put himself in. In his attempts to dissolve the marriage contract, he has the Lis take up residence with the Wang family – including patriarch Wang Chi-Yang (Benson Fong), Master Wang’s sister-in-law Madame Liang (Juanita Hall, a mixed-race actor of African-American and Irish descent, in yellowface), eldest son Wang Ta (James Shigeta), and younger son Wang San (Patrick Adiarte). Secretly, Sammy has convinced Madame Liang to allow Mei Li to fall naturally in love with Wang Ta. Meanwhile, Linda is flustered with Sammy after learning of his mail-order bride plans. They separate, and she soon begins to start dating Wang Ta. Wang Ta is also the object of affection of childhood friend and seamstress, Helen Chao (Reiko Sato). If you could not guess by now, the plot of Flower Drum Song revolves around complicated relationship polygons.

Actors also appearing in this film are Victor Sen Yung as the Celestial Gardens’ emcee, Soo Yong as Madame Yen Fong (Sammy’s mother; this role was to be played Anna May Wong, but she died before production began), and James Hong as the head waiter at the Celestial Gardens. Virginia Ann Lee and Cherylene Lee play Wang San’s girlfriend and the Wang family’s youngest daughter, respectively.

In this rewriting of Flower Drum Song, screenwriter Joseph Fields, there is a greater focus on generational conflict. This film adaptation is unclear when the story takes place. But by looking at some of the technology and mannerisms, I will guess sometime after World War II, probably the 1950s. In this rendition of San Francisco’s Chinatown, first-generation Chinese immigrants live alongside the second and third generations. This mix creates a tension that permeates across the film – from how characters dress, behave in public (if they even go out in public) and private settings, and most notably romantic expectations.

The depiction of this tension is simplistic: those are not American-born uphold as many traditions as they can; those who are American-born are “Chinese” to some extent, but mostly do not think much about Chinese traditions. You are either assimilated into American society or not, says Flower Drum Song – a troublesome generalization that persists in Asian-American subgroups whose history in the U.S. is not as long as Chinese-Americans. But, in a rare instance for a Golden Age Hollywood film, Fields assures that this adaptation does not mock the first generation for not being as “American” as they could possibly be. Assimilation is on the terms of the characters, not contrived societal norms. Another anomaly in Flower Drum Song: the younger generations are assertively American, rather than offshoots of their elders. The younger generations’ unaccented English, wide range of characterizations, and their incidental Asianness (in that they do not feel the need to announce their Asian or Chinese heritage to others or to the audience) is unusual for the time in which this film was released. At the very minimum, Flower Drum Song tries to normalize Asian-American personhood. When the film fails to uphold that, it is mostly because of preexisting issues. In those instances, Fields cannot write his way outside how Rodgers and Hammerstein had already presented Flower Drum Song on the Broadway stage without compromising the duo’s artistic intent.

Many of the actors involved are not Chinese-American, but the performances are sincere, whether comedic or dramatic*. Having seen only a few of his works, I now wonder whether James Shigeta was just so naturally charming. As the go-to Asian-American romantic lead in Hollywood (not that he was cast in such a role often), his performance is seamless, appearing almost effortless. The same could also be said for Nancy Kwan, fresh off her well-publicized cinematic debut in The World of Suzie Wong (1960). An alumnus of the Royal Ballet School in London, Kwan also shows off her fancy footwork multiple times. Kwan’s dancing mastery is without question and, paired with choreographer Hermes Pan (best remembered as Fred Astaire’s principal choreographic collaborator), showcases her talents. As Mei Li, Miyoshi Umeki is slightly hamstrung by her role’s characterization. Yet as one of two actors who reprised the role they originated on the Broadway stage (along with Juanita Hall as Madame Liang; Jack Soo also appeared on Broadway, but switched roles), I was convinced by Umeki’s emotional fragility and shyness – all this for a character who has just arrived in a foreign land, bewildered by what she sees.

For the M*A*S*H fan in me, there is a special delight seeing Jack Soo and Patrick Adiarte here. Soo, best known as Det. Nick Yemana in the sitcom Barney Miller and for his distinctive face, is the natural comedian in the cast. His delivery – physically, verbally – is fantastic in this film. Adiarte, who also starred as Prince Chulalongkorn in The King and I (1956; I had not made the M*A*S*H connection when I watched that film four years ago) has a solo dance number (“The Other Generation”) in Flower Drum Song that I was floored by due to his athleticism.

As lead choreographer on Flower Drum Song, Hermes Pan directs several dancing segments for the film, each one markedly different from the other. The three most notable dance numbers are “Grant Avenue”; “Fan Tan Fannie”, “Love, Look Away” (the first two include Nancy Kwan; the other includes Reiko Sato and James Shigeta). Alongside the production design by Alexander Golitzen (1940’s Foreign Correspondent, 1960’s Spartacus); Joseph C. Wright (1942’s My Gal Sal, 1953’s Gentlemen Prefer Blondes); and Howard Bristol (1940’s Rebecca, 1959’s Anatomy of a Murder) and the costume design by Irene Sharaff (1951’s An American in Paris, The King and I), the dances are built for Technicolor – even though the film’s Chinatown looks too obviously like a soundstage construction. The abstractions in “Love, Look Away” offer the best example of this choreographic-production design-costuming collaboration. The use of empty space, props suggesting physical divisions and other people, and the enormous dreamlike atmosphere position the scene to be a cinematic manifestation of Helen’s unrequited love for Wang Ta (notably, the dancing segment uses the melody of a song not sung for Helen, but for another). In its ethereal beauty, “Love, Look Away” is a marvelous several minutes of cinematic dance – appearing in a decade where such scenes would only become more rare.

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The order of the Rodgers and Hammerstein songs has been rearranged drastically from the original Broadway production; one song (“Like a God”) was dropped entirely because Universal’s executives, “feared that a number in which a Chinese American man compares himself to a god might offend audiences in the American South.” Whatever. The exclusion of “Like a God” does not affect the film much, as this adaptation of Flower Drum Song is a substantially different creature than the stage version. Owing to the performances, the two most notable songs of the musical carry over to the movie. The self-assured anthem “I Enjoy Being a Girl” (Nancy Kwan dubbed by B.J. Baker; Kwan did not protest the dubbing, despite the fact she could sing) may not contain Kwan’s singing voice, but it does boast her charismatic performance. In the film’s second half, “You Are Beautiful” has Shigeta’s and Umeki’s acting complement the former’s tender singing. But most of the songs – including two of the dance numbers when not considering the choreography (“Grant Avenue” and “Fan Tan Fannie”) – fail to leave an impression. Having Juanita Hall sing “Chop Suey” (an American Chinese dish) underlines the irony of having a non-white actor play someone of Asian descent.

In the Rodgers and Hammerstein repertoire, Flower Drum Song is among the least performed of their musicals. A 2002 revival with copious revisions remains the only production outside the musical’s Broadway and West End debuts – Flower Drum Song has not been on tour since the 1960s. It may not compare well musically, lyrically, and dramatically to Carousel, The King and I, or South Pacific, but it is miles better than the likes of State Fair. But the original production of Flower Drum Song, as written, is now considered offensive to contemporary sensibilities. As the preeminent musical theater compositional duo of their day (I would argue that they are the best in the medium’s history), Rodgers and Hammerstein – through The King and I and South Pacific and Flower Drum Song – intended through their stage musicals to break down the racial barriers that they abhorred. All three of these musicals incorporate ethnic and racial stereotypes that can never be stricken entirely from their film adaptations and subsequent musical revivals. Rodgers and Hammerstein’s intentions are well-meaning in their advocacy for cross-racial understanding, but their messages are muddled. Their work reflects a lack of racial sensitivity, at best.

The 1961 film adaptation of Flower Drum Song is the first major Hollywood studio movie to have a significant number of Asian-Americans as credited cast members since Go for Broke! (1951; a WWII film dramatizing the service of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team). Flower Drum Song ups the ante over Go for Broke! as it has an almost all-Asian cast – a feat not replicated again until The Joy Luck Club (1993) and then Crazy Rich Asians (2018). The environment in 1950s and ‘60s Hollywood excluded Asian-Americans in front of and behind the camera, so I can understand why there are only two films from that era with a majority-Asian cast. But I grade on a temporal curve. There is no excuse in modern Hollywood for the twenty-five-year separation between almost all-Asian casts. Are we to expect that the only Hollywood movies with nearly all-Asian casts/majority Asian casts in the future will be the sequels to Crazy Rich Asians?

For the longest time, Flower Drum Song was the one major Rodgers and Hammerstein musical I knew least about. I suspect, of the duo’s musicals that have been revived, it is the one in their repertoire that even self-professed theater buffs are least aware of. Being the only Rodgers and Hammerstein musical not distributed by 20th Century Fox does not help. Nor does the fact that its last home media release was on DVD in the 2000s. In 2008, Henry Koster’s Flower Drum Song was inducted into the Library of Congress’ National Film Registry. That honor marks the film as integral to the history of American cinema. As the constant writing of American cinematic history continues, as audiences become attuned to the history of non-white individuals in Hollywood, perhaps more people will see the importance of this movie. What would have happened if James Shigeta, Nancy Kwan, Miyoshi Umeki, Jack Soo, and their other co-stars were offered the same quality of opportunities of their white colleagues? We will never know. But Flower Drum Song can help the viewer envision the answer.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

* My sister will tell you that she does not believe that anyone in this film’s love polygon has a genuine mutual love. I agree. Mei Li’s love for Wang Ta appears genuine, but that is the extent of it.

#Flower Drum Song #Henry Koster #Nancy Kwan #James Shigeta #Miyoshi Umeki #Jack Soo #Benson Fong #Juanita Hall #Reiko Sato #Patrick Adiarte #Richard Rodgers #Oscar Hammerstein II #Rodgers and Hammerstein #Joseph Fields #Russell Metty #Irene Sharaff #TCM #My Movie Odyssey

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skullsandwineglasses · 4 years

Text

To Dear Myself Review/Rant

If you’ve had the patience to watch all 45 episodes until the end, then you probably know what I’m going to talk about in this review. I feel like it’s pretty unanimous that the ending was awful.

It’s a slow burn slice-of-life drama. I don’t normally watch these types of dramas and instead go for the ones that are fantastical and far away from reality so that I can completely get lost in another world. But Liu Shishi and Zhu Yilong are familiar faces, and I’m more likely to start a bad drama with familiar actors than a good drama with unfamiliar actors, because I’m basic and want to invest as little attention and mental effort as possible (it takes work to warm up to new faces).

The drama started off promising: it introduced obstacles that normal couples and families would face. Obstacles like money, social class, infidelity, unemployment, workplace competition, the value and desirability of “aging” women who prioritize work over love. It was relatable, even though some of these are unfamiliar experiences for me, a psychology grad student in her mid-20s. I didn’t expect this drama to be inspiring. I didn’t want this drama to be inspiring. But I wanted it to be at least logical, if not realistic. The drama seemed to promise reality though, which I held out hope for, but instead it butchered the character arc for most of the leads.

[spoilers ahead]

The devolution of Li Si Yu and Chen Yi Ming’s relationship was laughable.

LSY is afraid of marriage, while CYM believes that the ultimate goal in life is to get married and have a family. They don’t see eye to eye on this, and so the pressure causes them to break up. I respect this. It’s a common problem: you can’t really move forward when one isn’t ready to settle down, and the other isn’t willing to wait or support them. CYM is portrayed as a calm, composed, and morally upright person who feels uncomfortable when LSY makes a questionable decision. But CYM is also a hypocritical person who suppresses his feelings. Whenever he’s displeased, he acts as thought everything is fine until he can’t hide it anymore and explodes with unbidden rage. He punches the roof of the car, he slams the desk. It’s a little scary tbh. LSY is portrayed as a passionate and impulsive career-driven woman. She has to make tough decisions, and you understand why she makes them. Whenever she’s unhappy, she’ll let you know. The drama seems to set up a character development arc for these two flawed characters.

LSY starts her own company, but then fails, and ends up learning that while it’s important to fight for what you believe in, but you shouldn’t be too caught up in whether your fail or succeed. It’s the classic “it’s about the journey, not the destination” kind of lesson.

After a bout of heartbreak, CYM is swept off his feet by the manipulative Wang Ziru. She lies to him, evades him, controls him. At this point in the drama, we think that LSY is better off without him because he seemed to have moved on so swiftly. CYM and WZR seem to have a calmer relationship than the one he had with LSY. They never argue. We see that he’s easily attracted to confident, powerful women, but expects them to settle down with him when they’re not ready. For a third of the drama, he’s happily in love with WZR and doesn’t think about or interact with LSY (except when he comes to her office to tell her to shut her company “for her own good”). It looks like he completely moved on.

LSY on the other hand, misses him. She’s always looking at the only picture that she’s saved of them together. She still loves him.

I liked that they introduced Guan Xiao Tong as a potential love interest for LSY. Despite being over a decade younger than LSY and constantly being looked down by her because of this, I thought he was quite mature. I also liked how LSY wasn’t “moved” by him. The typical drama would have her eventually reciprocate his feelings and make him her rebound. Yes, she was amused by him, but she knew that he wouldn’t grow up fast enough with her, and so she never led him on. It made their relationship wholesome. Even though LSY wasn’t attracted to him, I liked how the drama normalized a potential may/december relationship between a woman and man. Though I don’t think I can forgive the drama was making him disappear so abruptly after he found out that his dad was struggling financially. Maybe the drama implied that GXT was too busy “growing up” by helping with his dad’s business so his relationship with LSY came to an end and that he was no longer relevant to drama, but that wasn’t made clear at all.

Zhi Zhi also stopped appearing after the 3rd last episode of the drama when she decided not to marry the misogynistic Su Li Xing and to instead stay in Shanghai for her career, which also implied that there could be a chance for her and Liu Yang to get back together (their storyline is a whole other can of worms, but I have to admit that no other drama, movie, or book has made me cry as hard as Zhi Zhi confronting the mistress and then getting publicly slapped by her husband. Not sure if it was the drama itself that had the power to move me, or if it was because I watched that scene at 3am on a Thursday, or because it reminded me of some personal experiences, but either way, I sobbed hella hard that night).

But back to LSY and CYM. In the last 2 episodes of the drama, they start appearing together in scenes again. There are some unresolved emotions. There is still attraction. Nervous, longing, awkward glances. After nearly 20 episodes of believing that a reconciliation is impossible, you start wondering if the drama is hinting that they’re gonna force them back together in the last 2 episodes. CYM sells his apartment to support LSY’s project. Haowen tells LSY that CYM still calls out her name when he’s drunk (although it’s still unclear if this was just a gimmick to distract her to sign the sale agreement).

CYM can’t give WZR a straight answer about whether or not he still loves LSY. He punches Gong Jing in the face for cheating LSY out of her shares.

And even after all this, guess what happens? He confronts WZR. She tells him she lied to him to help him preserve his dignity. She tells him she had to do underhanded, unethical things in order to save the livelihood of an entire company that she’s responsible for. He’s moved. He’s grateful for her thoughtfulness towards him. He stands by her. He chooses her.

I mean, what? Does he really love her that much that he’s willing to look past everything she’s done? All the crimes and hurt she’s committed? I don’t need to him to get back together with LSY. I don’t want them to. I think he’s a terrible character who believes that happiness and fulfilment only comes form finding a woman who’s willing to let him love and dote on her. But this decision just doesn’t match the morally upright character we’ve been sold with at the beginning of the drama. LSY only made one morally questionable decision, of which she apologized for, and yet CYM was already questioning whether or not they should continue their relationship because he felt like they were going different ways. And yet he forgives WZR? Because he loves her? But? What about those ambiguous, uncomfortable faces he made when he was with her? Like that scene when he helped take off her coat before she went into the awards ceremony, and he stood back, leaning by the door, staring off into the distance looking sad and regretful?? What are we supposed to make of those scenes and expressions? I probably shouldn’t victim blame, especially since WZR created an uneven power dynamic in their (lowkey toxic) relationship, but I’m just not sure what the scriptwriter was trying to do with this plotline. It felt like they were condoning WZR’s behaviour (despite saying she was arrested in a voiceover) because CYM forgave her. Or were they condemning CYM’s passiveness? Again, not clear.

And then the final scene with the women marching on happy and hopeful, and then men staring out onto the city skyline looking lost and depressed? Female empowerment is great, and it was nice that they were all single at the end (except for Xiao Ling, I guess), but was it really necessary to tear men down to emphasize this? But then again, the drama kind of had to since they wrote shitty male characters. I just dislike creating the winner/loser dichotomy.

I respect that Liu Yang is working his way towards forgiveness and has found what he’s passionate about. But I don’t know if he’s forgivable, because what he did was pretty unforgivable, but he’s showing growth and is working towards redemption, which is somewhat admirable.

Haowen went from being the most level-headed one to becoming the most impulsive and obsessive one.

CYM is just blank. Absolutely blank. There is nothing interesting about him. At first you pity him for being the one who’s always chasing after LSY and being the one to give in first for the sake of the relationship, but then you realize that he’s just trying to mold himself into what he thinks is the “ideal” boyfriend, which he thinks is someone who is able to succeed without the help of his girlfriend. He thinks it’s weak to rely on the help of his girlfriends, which is ironic since most of the career moves he made in the drama were directly because of his girlfriends.

Anyway, I could just go on about how much I didn’t enjoy this drama, and other people on youtube and mydramalist have ranted more eloquently about this. I usually don’t write drama reviews unless there’s something I’m deeply unhappy about.

My recommendation? Don’t watch this. But if you’re curious, don’t be afraid to jump and skip scenes. There are no likable characters. Even Zhi Zhi doesn’t start to become likable until she decides to leave her husband. Is this a feminist drama? Yes to the extent that it normalizes women in their 30s who are single and career-driven (which is a pretty big deal in China where unmarried women over 25/27 are considered “leftover” women), but I’m just not sure whether the plot does justice to these women. The verdict is still out on that. Thoughts?

Oh and one final qualm that I have with this drama is the LSY and WZR never had a final face-to-face confrontation. After everything that WZR did to LSY, LSY never got to interrogate WZR. WZR could have even gave LSY some final parting words. Instead, CYM took LSY’s place and the drama made it seem that WZR was only answerable to him and no one else. There was just absolutely no closure from this messy, messy drama.

#to dear myself #亲爱的自己 #朱一龙 #cdrama #zhu yilong #liu shishi #qin ai de zi ji #crdama review #陈一鸣 #chen yi ming

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vedj-f-bekuesu · 4 years

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At this point I’m just watching the seasons to keep the momentum going after two great (and one flawed but still okay) seasons. With Friday being a Bank Holiday, I might get the rest of the pre-11 stuff wrapped up by the weekend. But enough of the future, how about the season I watched, Sons of Garmadon?

It had a lot to live up to based on its reputation, and I’m happy to report that it delivers on what it sets out to do. Issues with the season are fairly minor tribbles, but that’s something I can cover in the notes.

-Hoo boy, let’s get this out of the way; the movie did fucking wonders for Lloyd Garmadon. Spending like five seasons stuck to his blander “chosen one must learn” characterisation, this season gives him a very long overdue overhaul into a more modern chosen one protagonist who is way more entertaining to watch. Bonus points for having a look I can take seriously now...yeah, sorry, but the Anakin hairpiece with the strange approach to voice commitment never did for me, even as it became the norm for what I was viewing. -To be honest, his teammates get some good material here too. Some more than others (Zane especially has a really good little arc where he gets to show his more calculating side. Cole’s arc is okay but I don’t feel it quite nails the landing as well), but they all get chance to banter and have character moments, which is mainly what I come into shows for as opposed to straight up development constantly. Shout outs to Jay who has small moments, but important ones that do really good for his character (I could go into why Lloyd and Jay make the most sense as leads...probably after my season watching is done). I also like the callback to a character moment he had in season 3. Also this finally feels like the writers are sticking to characterisation, this season mostly keeping what Hands of Time did with them. Not so much design-wise, but I’ve made it clear many times that I prefer the new designs to old. Also, I get to throw in Pixal as a main character now since she’s clearly on the team full time. She’s good here too. -The dynamics get their own section just because I want to restate how I prefer the dynamic between Jay and Lloyd compared to Kai and Lloyd so far. Seriously, Jay seems to step up to bat for Lloyd more than Kai at this point. And yet no-one really seems to be interested in it within the fandom. -There wasn’t really much in the way of side characters this season (I am aware that next season will change that). Misako was good for what little material she had, Wu was fun and actually became a solid character in his own right once he became a toddler, Dareth is solid and really gets to show his alternative way of helping out, and the police commissioner...eh, better than season 6 but I’m still not big on him. -I can sum up Harumi in one sentence; Skylor but done better on every count (and also evil). She’s engaging when she’s acting as the more humble Princess figure, and she’s nicely hammy when she’s unleashing her evil side. I can see why people would be into Lloyrumi with such a investing act (for the record, I’m not). This all being said, those who say that Harumi had a point are missing one important detail; as much destruction has been caused with the ninjas’ close call; what alternative is there? I don’t see anyone else stepping up to save Ninjago so it would have probably fully fallen a long time ago. And even with the Great Devourer, Lord Garmadon was channelling his good side to deliver a finishing blow, he still needed the ninja there. -We have three other villains and two of them are enjoyable. Ultra-Violet is committed to her crazy shtick and amusing, and Killow is definitely different to how I thought he’d be, but it’s a lot more enjoyable (especially when Garry Chalk is channelling every bit of his Sonic Underground Robotnik voice he can. Kind of like how Clancee was Ian James Corlett channelling a lot of his scrub monkey third class). Mr E can go rust though. -Unlike the other seasons which people cite as dark, this one feels like it does actually go there. It’s not completely a dark season, mostly the end of Jade Princess and scenes between Game of Masks and Big Trouble, Little Ninjago. It was still pretty fun and light-ish hearted outside of that. -Weirdly enough, most of my quibbles are on the technical side. People cite this season as having the best animation...but I don’t really see it. In terms of visuals it’s a step up, but the actual animation doesn’t feel that different to Hands of Time. They learned to use flashier graphics everywhere. Which is probably why the intro is the way it is, and I’m sorry but this is probably my least favourite intro. I can’t appreciate the spectacle when focusing on anything is difficult to achieve. On top of that, there were still some glaring graphical fuck-ups (like when Cole is shown with the other ninja in a scene where he was captured, or when Lloyd was shown with green eyes in a shot despite being drained of power at that point), which aren’t really any different to the ones Prime Empire has. -The pacing of the season wasn’t entirely smooth, but unlike other seasons it’s not like one set issue. It’s more like a concertina effect; it was very quick at first, then slows down, then speeds up again, then slows down, then finally hits an even tempo about halfway through. This is why I didn’t mention the likes of Hutchins, the parents or the Mechanic before; because of the pace, you don’t really get enough time to really get attached to them (doesn’t help that the Mechanic has Alan Marriott doing the voice in his cameo, and man does it not fit compared to Skybound. I’m glad when the Mechanic got more substantial stuff they went back to his original VA, that voice is so fun). -My other big thing is actually the complete continuity snarl that’s Harumi’s backstory makes. They’ve thrown in so many random events over the seasons but because of the sheer vagueness of the timescales it doesn’t really break suspension of disbelief. But Harumi’s turn to darkness is clearly during the ending of season 1, which we have a much more tangible sense of time for. Harumi seems like she’s about 8-10 then, the ninja seem like they were 14-15 then, Harumi seems like she’s 15-18 now but the showrunner still insist that the ninja are teenagers? How does that work, the most generous allowance for time is five years, and that would barely make them still teenagers in season 8. Certainly don’t believe they could be teenagers as of the most recent seasons. -On a completely different tangent, can we talk about the toilet humour? Yeah, it’s not like it’s never been there (there’s been poop jokes, fart jokes, halitosis jokes, and who can forget that one utterly cringe scene in S3?), but Hands of Time and Sons of Garmadon do it in a way that just comes off as really weird compared to earlier toilet humour. Like, there’s the implication by Jay in season 7 that Kai has issues with constipation, Cole’s truth tea dose forces him to say that he pees in the pool, and then there’s Kai, right to Harumi’s face, all but saying that Jay has issues with peeing himself. Her reaction to it is fucking hilarious, but it’s still weird, even though knowing Vincent Tong he would totally do that.

Overall, this was a great season, and it’s clear to see how this became such a draw to the series (meaning in hindsight, LEGO’s method of dealing with the new style was pretty much a winner). The issues I have don’t stop the quality being across the board. Aside from Possession, I think this may be a favourite season from the pre-11 stuff.

Next time, we effectively get the second part to this story. Yep, it ended in a cliffhanger so we’ve hardly wrapped it up here. Time to see how the OG ninja and newer recruits handle themselves alone in Hunted.

#ninjago #ns8 #VEDJ-F talks #vedj-f reviews #cole cannot sing sorry

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glopratchet · 4 years

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000

They live on what little food they can grow themselves or trade for from the villages along the road He has been raised in a simple hut by his mother and father, who are both very poor farmers The only other person living here besides them is Simo himself, but he spends most of his time playing games with his brother, Nils Beebe-Beebe The next day you wake up to find that your innkeeper is gone without an explanation as usual called the "Beeship" It's a small device that will allow him to travel through space instantly If he uses it properly, he'll be able to get anywhere in the galaxy within minutes You know all this because he tells you about it every once in awhile while you're eating breakfast You wonder if he really needs all these extra profits, but then again maybe not you've got a lot of money now after all to a countless number of worlds throughout the galaxy, which means you are making a good profit You order extra alligator parts shipped in from dozens of other planets each week It gets to the point where half the bar is filled with your stockpile All of this allows you to buy yourself a little place in a much better part of town, the prices are incredibly cheap now that everyone is leaving to search for the new planet alligator milk, alligator gall bladders, alligator hearts, legs, and even genitals All of this money also employs a whole crew to work in your inn helping customers with their alligator parts and shipping requests You have no idea why some types go for more than others Whatever the nobles request is most likely what you'll ship out to them Now that you actually own your inn, you get to experience something you've missed out on for the past year ! you still wear your golden one everyday and love looking at it Feeling well enough financially to do this, you decide to splurge on a new home for yourself The house is right near a picturesque park with running trails, man made waterfalls, and Australian style cable cars to take you over the historically significant city wall whenever you like It also comes with its own large stretch limo for easy transport ! You sure do like wearing those too! Now of course there's a high demand for these necklaces, meaning there's plenty of crime involved with getting them around here After all, even you committed a crime or two to get your first one Only the nobles and authorities are allowed to wear them openly on their necks Though there are several ways the police have of spotting somebody wearing fakes or stolen teeth necklaces everyday Gon' down to the river and throw my billfallow trout-tickler Upwands to stap my belly like a ozzin Muttonheads! Heaving haycocks, have you no more decency than to poach in full view of the public? and not an ounce of backbone amongst the lot of ya iths swining in our trees like so many orange ornaments and you lot cut them down for sport Flying pigs! knights Given your inn's history, this is usually the type of people you get coming in nowadays Drunken idiots looking to make an uproar and fill the place with smoke Bores! besides every once in awhile you still get the odd adventurer type who has heard about your place Of course these drunkards are a big part of your business nowadays You might not make as much money as you used to, but you can honestly say you're enjoying yourself a lot more now He's got more necklaces on than a charmed serpent Your head chef in the kitchen as of recently, he's an experimental gourmet chef of some sort, always trying out newfangled recipes with alligator meat too tough to be served anywhere else When you first started the alligator fad, he was the one who came up with the concept of an alligator sausage and has also created dishes such as alligator poutine and gator tail mac and cheese , similar to a Mao jacket Bill falls in through the back door of the kitchen, out of breath and clutching his chest making wheezing noises He's clad in a red Hawaiian shirt He wears blue jeans with brown leather belt with a rectangular silver buckle He has on work boots that are clearly used for manual labor of some sort, perhaps farming He wears a brown leather tool belt There are tongs, pliers, and other such tools associated with hands When he sees you, his eyes dart around looking at everything but you "Um hello," He says nervously, "I'm here to apply for the head chef position " a blue light at the center of his vision YOU: "Hmmm say, weren't you in here last night drinking off your sorrows?" "among other things "Strike one," YOU: "And you also almost single handedly destroyed the tavern in a drunken stupor I'm not sure if that makes you the best person to take the esteemed position of head chef or the worst " Bil claps his hands together In the middle of the face is a mouth that acts as a filter with an opening and closing lid Inside are interlocking teeth that cut and carve the shaggy shreds of tobacco that continuously fall on the ground The whole contraption is held in his mouth with wires that go around the head "Alrighty then," Bil says excitedly , as they are fighting over bills that have come in But it hardly matters, he gets weekly allowances for doing chores that he doesn't even do anyway To amuse himself, he often wanders into taverns requesting work as a bartender After the tavern gets trashed he moves along to the next tavern He has before worked at this tavern for a year before, but that was only because of his connections in the past involvements he had with Keira You suspect trouble "I think I should let you know that you would be working under me," You say That instantly worries him w Bil looks down, letting out a sigh Huh? YOU: "What?" GAME: You've chosen Conservative mode! This option will result in having a manageable business without much risk, but the profits are likely to be low "It's not that I doubt your commanding abilities!" Bil says Uh-Oh It's Showtime! As Bil throws in playing with his sawfish teeth interlocking device "Ummm Welll its just that I was under the impression that you were the daughter of Ola our departed co-chef Also my age and not fit to command anyone," Bil says as he squirms uncomfortably You've met my Pa before " Silence, evident confusion, and slight panic washes over Bill's sober face Get him on the couch! "Perhaps we should discuss this matter at a later time I am terribly busy with inventory and organizing everything until the day that Ola arrives in ten hours via hover train," Bill says attempting to leave You clamp your hand around Bil Muscat's thin arm He jumps back and lets out a loud yelp YOU: "Keep your voice down What I need you to do is organize and inventory the smaller alcohol bottles," "Yes Boss " Bil says "And Bil, do it quickly, or you'll feel my wrath The man frightened and near tears he cautiously approaches the alcohol storage closet This isn't going to plan, but the least effective time to do this would be now You need to guide him along "Hey, you're new, right?" a man says to Bil as he steps off the hover tram You recognize him as another alcohol supplier (and buddy of yours) named Zimak "I've got a large shipment that arrived this morning Where would you like it? I can't unstow everything myself " THIS CHOICE MATTERS! NOTE: You may select more then one choice for your answer Option One: Place the alcohol in a different location from the current supplies Option Two - Get a jump on this shipment and place it with the current alcohol "Leave it with the main supply," You shout Bil is too overwhelmed to speak Soon he manages to locate the crates of alcohol in Zimak's shipment He soon begins separating the bottles organized by type and size Pleased as punch Bil says, "I see you sent out for some top-shelf alcohol again, but what's this?" Bil's holding up a blue aluminum canister that says fizzy peach wuzzy on the side You now have a final answer of where the can is placed Placing it somewhere else will break your streak! Option One: Place it with the main stock Option Two: Place it elsewhere on another shelf YOU: "Stock it where you cherry-picked items are located " "But I need those for gifts and personal use," bawls Bill as he attempts to collect himself again Before long he'll cry in front of the customers! "Sweet Christmas! Would you calm down? Does that stuff really do anything for you?" You say as you snatch the canned good out of his hands and begin to open it "Man, this fruit punch is a real lemon-lime bomb! Heh See? I made a joke!" You continue to mock Bil until he begins to seriously sob into his hands While he attempts to regain his composure, you send the Zimak fellow on his way Zimak, why did you send me such an alcoholic beverage?" You say still holding the metallic tasting blue liquid "I dunno, I thought you guys would like it for one of your parties or something That stuff's pretty popular and my kids love the cartoon on the side of the can "You're lucky I like you and this was free," You say lightly pushing Zimak, before he takes his leave Somehow you'll have to get through the day without offending anyone too harshly or else the word will spread that you're a mean boss and folks will avoid shopping here Last thing you want is to have this place become a ghost town Maybe get a bit drunk today That reminds you of Bill's earlier freakout over his bottle of Stoli You better see what exactly is bugging Bil today Upon entering the break-room (what you call the refrigerator) you find Bil wailing and gnashing his teeth over one of the shelves You figured it out instantly; his beloved Smirnoff isn't there! "Things can't be that bad " You trail off as he turns to you sobbing Oh boy He took it!" "Who took what?" "Gunther! He took my bottle!" At this point Bil wipes his nose on his shirt sleeve and begins pointing an accusatory finger at you, "It's your fault! If you hadn't opened that big can of worms by pulling that April fools prank, he would've left everything alone " You can't tell if this is the alcohol or his medical condition but either way, you need to get to the bottom of this "Alright, you know what? I'll go talk to him myself You just sit here and relax " "I won't relax until I get my drinks back!" Well, at least that's a start in the right direction Now you just hope Gunther is home

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warehouse13pod · 5 years

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Show Notes 108A Duped - Part 1

Down the rabbit hole we go, Agents!

Here they are! At long, long last—the show notes for 108 “Duped!”

These notes cover 108 “Duped” Part 1.

You can listen to it in this embedded player:

Or on Youtube:

Let’s jump right in!

Miranda and I started this episode with some fun facts about ourselves. Mine was that I once got a pillow from Sargento that said “Sweet dreams are made of cheese,” because I complimented it online.

First of all, here’s the song it references.

Now, here are the tweets of how it happened. Here’s the Tweet I saw from Warehouse 13 co-creator and legendary TV writer/producer, Jane Espenson and the conversation that followed:

And at this very moment, that pillow is serving as a laptop cushion.

Now, onto the show.

This week’s writer appreciation focused on another writing team, Benjamin Raab and Deric A. Hughes who shared some awesome behind-the-scenes pix with us on twitter! After we released the episode, Ben tweeted at us and told us the crew let Ben and Deric cameo on every episode they wrote/produced. Here’s the pic from “Duped!” They were on the elevator with Pete!

We got that tweet and some good corrections and fun facts from Ben and Deric themselves! What up, dudes‽

Miranda says that we start the episode “en media res” which means “in the middle of things” in Latin. Here’s a link to what it means in terms of narrative storytelling.

Later, we also compared Myka’s dress in the pilot…

…to her dress in Duped.

Great work by the costuming/hair/makeup team on emphasizing all the subtle ways that Myka was Not Normal™

Because we love to give due credit, so, the people responsible are

Costuming: Joanne Hanson

Hair: Susan Exton-Stranks

Makeup: Marie Nardella

We also have a good laugh talking about how Pete miscategorizes Alice in Wonderland as Chick Lit.

Alice in Wonderland is obviously not Chick Lit (although there’s nothing wrong with Chick Lit).

This led us to a brief discussion of how Miranda’s sister trolls her by calling “Doctor Who” Mister Who. That already wasn’t accurate, but now it’s especially inaccurate as The Doctor is a woman! As a side note, I personally would buy a T-Shirt that said “Mister Who” on it just to make a laugh. Anyone else? Anyone?

Next up, Miranda noticed that Pete was wearing a North Canton, Ohio t-shirt and connected the dots that Eddie McClintock himself is from North Canton. Further proof that Eddie and Pete are essentially the same person.

Speaking of Eddie, this is also the episode where we learned that Eddie was voted the 82nd Sexiest Man Alive, according to TVBuddy. Alas, alack, the link to the list is now dead. So I can’t link it. I tried.

Next, we talked about how amazing Eddie is at doing an impersonation of Myka sticking her neck out when she’s mad.

In the Warehouse, an artifactified disco ball plays Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.”

Here’s that song:

When Act II starts we get some really orange lighting that plays right into our color theory. I couldn’t find a picture of that scene and Amazon won’t let me screenshot, but, in general, most cinematography of Myka in this episode is very orange. Here are a couple examples of how orange most things are that involve Alice in this episode:

Then we talked about how weird it was when Myka actually took one of Artie’s pastries.

Actual footage of my face when she took one:

Actual footage of my face when she took SECONDS:

Then we got the introduction of Gary and Jillian Whitman—this week’s red herring bad guys and focus of this week’s dual Actor’s Spotlight, courtesy of Miranda.

Gary was played by Niall Matter.

Miranda recommended watching the TV show he was on called The Best Years.

Jillian (my name-thief) was played by Erica Cerra.

Miranda noticed a subtle Walt Whitman reference and gave the dates of his life and Lewis Carroll’s/Charles Dodgson’s life.

Walt Whitman: 1819 - 1892

Lewis Carroll/Charles Dodgson: 1832 - 1898

There will be a lot more information about Lewis Carroll/Charles Dodgson in the show notes for Part 2 of this episode.

Then we talked about how Artie was a tad too aggressive in telling Claudia to “back off!” and how this all reminded us of a scene in The Importance of Being Earnest where two characters grumpily eat cakes. Miranda later specified that it reminded her of the scene where Jack and Algernon eat muffins. Meanwhile, it reminded me of the scene where Gwendolen and Cecily get passive-aggressive over whether tea should be enjoyed with bread and butter or with cake.

Here’s a snippet of the scene Miranda was thinking of:

Algernon. If it was my business, I wouldn’t talk about it. [Begins to eat muffins.] It is very vulgar to talk about one’s business. Only people like stock-brokers do that, and then merely at dinner parties.

Jack. How can you sit there, calmly eating muffins when we are in this horrible trouble, I can’t make out. You seem to me to be perfectly heartless.

Algernon. Well, I can’t eat muffins in an agitated manner. The butter would probably get on my cuffs. One should always eat muffins quite calmly. It is the only way to eat them.

Jack. I say it’s perfectly heartless your eating muffins at all, under the circumstances.

Here’s a snippet of the scene I was thinking of:

Cecily. May I offer you some tea, Miss Fairfax?

Gwendolen. [With elaborate politeness.] Thank you. [Aside.] Detestable girl! But I require tea!

Cecily. [Sweetly.] Sugar?

Gwendolen. [Superciliously.] No, thank you. Sugar is not fashionable any more. [Cecily looks angrily at her, takes up the tongs and puts four lumps of sugar into the cup.]

Cecily. [Severely.] Cake or bread and butter?

Gwendolen. [In a bored manner.] Bread and butter, please. Cake is rarely seen at the best houses nowadays.

Cecily. [Cuts a very large slice of cake, and puts it on the tray.] Hand that to Miss Fairfax.

[Merriman does so, and goes out with footman. Gwendolen drinks the tea and makes a grimace. Puts down cup at once, reaches out her hand to the bread and butter, looks at it, and finds it is cake. Rises in indignation.]

Gwendolen. You have filled my tea with lumps of sugar, and though I asked most distinctly for bread and butter, you have given me cake. I am known for the gentleness of my disposition, and the extraordinary sweetness of my nature, but I warn you, Miss Cardew, you may go too far.

Both of those scenes take place in Act II.

If you read nothing else in these show notes STOP AND WATCH THE FOLLOWING CLIP!

Here’s a clip from an early movie adaptation of The Importance of Being Earnest that features my favorite line delivery of anything ever:

Good luck ever looking at a handbag without thinking of that again.

While we’re on the subject, I played Cecily in the Importance of Being Earnest, so I’m legally obligated to share a couple photos of that as proof:

As a final note on the matter, you can read the entire play from project Gutenberg here (and I recommend that you do, because it’s one of my all-time faves.).

Later, Miranda and I wondered if the infinity tattoo on Myka’s ankle was Joanne Kelly’s or was something Alice did when they got to Vegas. I think someone tweeted at us about this awhile ago. If anyone has that info, I’ll update the show notes with that and credit to the Tweeter.

After that, we discussed Myka’s/Alice’s casual mention of Carson’s Rule of Linear Transfer and her assertion that it means “forced outcomes require tangency.” I posited that this rule is not a mathematic or scientific principle but rather a warehouse-specific rule. The only Carson’s Rule that Miranda and I could find when researching this was an unrelated rule about bandwidth. If you’re super into telecommunications, you can read more about Carson’s Banwidth Rule here.

Backing up a little bit in the episode, we discussed a little bit about the history of disco and disco clubs via exerpts from a written interview with Professor Carol Cooper.

She spoke with us about Studio 54, Vaughn Harper, and the roots of a Studio 54 laying in a black-owned club called Leviticus.

I didn’t mention it in the episode, but that makes the club in Empire (also named Leviticus) a truly nicely named homage to history. Bustle.com did a deep dive on that fact here.

Relatedly, when the disco ball drops earlier in the warehouse, Claudia does her own take on the Saturday Night Fever dance…

…then devastates Artie by incorrectly dating the Disco Era. Find approximate dates and more info here.

Then Miranda compared Deanna Troi from Star Trek: The Next Generation and Tara Maclay from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

First of all, the episode of Buffy that we referenced was Season 4, Episode 16 “Who Are You?”

Second of all, we made a Buffy reference, so… You know… Take a shot.

Then we talked about Myka’s reaction to Pete referencing a rabbit’s foot as a lucky charm.

That was both a great reference to the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland…

…and a great reference to keychains from the 1990s and early 2000s. For those who don’t understand that reference, I was gonna link to some funny pictures from that era, but googling “rabbit’s foot” actually led me to down a sad path, so… like.. Not gonna share that.

Then we talked about how Pete saying “Kirk out

…was an improvised line that referenced Captain James T. Kirk on Star Trek: The Original Series and the communicators they used as well as to the flip phones from the era just before warehouse 13 premiered.

Then, both Ben Raab and Eddie McClintock explained that the reaction on set to Eddie saying “Kirk out!” looked something like this…

…until the network gave them the all-clear.

Winding things down for this episode, Miranda and I figured out what a Roulette table looked like:

…and appreciated Claudia’s knowledge of CIA laser mics. Turns out, laser microphones are really a thing!

Finally, for this week’s

~HEAVY THEMES~

…we talked about how off-putting Miranda and I found it when Alice (as Myka) drank both on the job and in front of Pete.

Not all people in recovery are triggered when people drink around them, but some are.

Here is an article from American Addiction Centers on how best to support an alcoholic and support their recovery.

If anyone has resources that they find helpful, we’re always happy to add them to these show notes or create a page devoted to resources for things discussed in our Heavy Themes sections.

And, with that, we are done with Part 1!

See you next time, Agents.

#108 Duped #108 Duped Part 1 #108 A Duped #108 A Duped Part 1 #108 #heavy themes #alice in wonderland #alice liddell #vegas #las vegas #lewis carol #studio 54 #disco

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gwentoryfics · 5 years

Text

Hot For Teacher, Part 5.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Hongseok x Reader x Hyunggu (Kino)

Words | 10.8k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Cursing. Underage drinking. The usual. Oh, and some fingering.

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • More Coming Soon AO3 | 1 • 2

Playlist | Spotify • Youtube

Note | I DID IT. IT’S WRITTEN. HERE IT IS. Please enjoy 💕 I’ll get the YouTube playlist posted later - I don’t have time to get that one put together. Have to head out for a Mother’s Day dinner lol.

As much as you don’t really want to confront Professor Yang about your incorrect grade, you know that it’s something you need to take care of. But as if Professor Yang could sense the confrontation coming, he takes off immediately after class ends, quickly packing up his things and hurrying out the door before you can even make it to the front of the room.

In the back of your mind you can’t help but wonder… is there any chance that all of this is intentional? Did he give you the wrong grade knowing that you would come talk to him about it? Did he leave immediately so that you’d be forced to visit him one-on-one in his office again?

Does he just want to get you alone again?

NOPE. Bad idea. You push that thought as far away as you can, forcing yourself to pause that train of thought. You can’t even let yourself consider the possibility that he might want that. Absolutely not allowed.

If there’s a chance that that’s what he wants, you can’t buy into it. You have to be strong for yourself.

So it’s decided. You are not going to visit him this week. You’re going to let this one go. You’ve received his message, but you’re not going to give him what he wants.

Wooseok shows up for tutoring late as always, but this time it’s different. You can tell immediately that he’s bothered by something.

“Hey,” you greet him softly, and he responds with nothing more than a nod. He’s silent as he gets ready for the session, and you don’t push him to talk. You’re assuming that it must be because of the whole party bust, and you also don’t know if you’re good enough friends for him to feel comfortable opening up to you about it.

The session is really difficult for him. He’s clearly not focused, so you call it quits early. You don’t want to push him because he’s only getting more and more frustrated. By the time you’re wrapping up, you feel like you should really try to talk with him about what’s going on - regardless of how close you may or may not be.

“Yuto told me about your extracurricular suspension,” you offer as a starting point.

“Ah, he did?”

“Yeah, at R&B Ensemble. It really sucks.”

“It’s only two more weeks, thank God.” Wooseok throws his folders and pencils into his backpack. “Any longer and I think Typhanie would start looking for a replacement drummer. I’m already putting the rest of the ensemble in a rough spot since we’ve got the showcase coming up next month.”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Shit happens, you know? You’re a talented drummer, I’m sure you’ll catch up with the group in no time.”

“You think I’m talented?” Wooseok looks up from the floor, his wide eyes searching yours. Your heart goes out to him - he seems so beaten down.

“Of course,” you reassure him. “You’re so creative when you play, and you’re always spot-on when it comes to tempo. You’re like a living, breathing metronome. It’s insane.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just watches you, thinking. And then he opens up. “I feel like I’ve really been struggling here. I love drumming more than anything I’ve ever done, but my classes are so hard. This music theory shit makes me feel like an idiot.” Wooseok throws himself back into his chair, brow furrowed.

You hadn’t really expected this to turn into a therapy session, but you want to try to help him feel better if you can. “You don’t have to be amazing at theory to be a great musician. I’m sure there are a lot of people out there who can really easily understand theory, but will never understand how to put heart into their performance.”

“Well what about you? You’re good at, like, everything.”

“No, don’t do that. You can’t compare yourself to others. We’re all at different places, you know?”

“Weren’t you just comparing me against theory nerds?”

You take a deep breath. “I guess I did. But that’s not the point. My point is that you’re good at what you’re good at. Stressing about what other people are good at is a waste of time. That’s not going to make you any better at theory.

“Ultimately, the most important thing is that you’re doing what you love. I know you need to pass your classes to get your degree, but once you have that degree? The numbers and letters on your transcript are entirely arbitrary. So just be the best damn drummer you can be. Whatever you lack in ability to read chords and pitches, make up for with your intricate rhythms and flawless tempo.”

Wooseok nods, his gaze trained on the floor. And slowly, a smile forms on his lips. “I can do that.”

You nod, and you’re glad to see that something about him seems lighter now. Like you are really able to lift his spirits.

Wooseok really is something. He acts like such a light-hearted cool kid all the time, waving his drumsticks around and cracking wise-ass jokes. He’s always the one clowning around.

Now you see that there’s something a bit more intense underneath all of those layers of positivity. Sure, he can be serious sometimes, but this is something different. You can tell that there’s part of him that is deeply affected by all of this. He’s human, of course. He can’t be upbeat all the time. Getting to see him when he’s a little more vulnerable, a little more genuine… it really makes you feel like you’ve made a connection with him.

Maybe there is a friendship in store for you after all.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to Ahjoomah’s Kitchen before.” Kino shakes his head at you as he flips the slices of meat laid out across the tabletop grill at the restaurant. “Trust me, once you get your first bite, you’re going to be disappointed that you’ve been missing out on the best Korean barbecue in the whole city.”

“I just didn’t know about it!” You chuckle defensively. “I don’t come down this way often.”

When Kino had invited you to hang out over the weekend, you hadn’t realized that he’d be dragging you all the way to Chinatown, nestled deeply in the city’s south side. But Kino’s from the south side, so he knows his way around. You trust his judgment - he won’t get you into any dangerous situations.

“Your loss,” he raises an eyebrow and reaches for the radish kimchi. “Be sure to get some of this before I eat all of it, by the way.”

“You can have it, be my guest. I’m strictly a cabbage kimchi kind of girl.”

His chopsticks pause mid-air as he looks up at you with fake disgust. “What kind of monster are you? Is that what they teach you on the farm?”

“I could say the same about you, you city-slicker.” You grab yourself some of the pickled seaweed and cabbage kimchi. “Will you eat any kind of kimchi?”

“Don’t start acting like I’m some kind of kimchi dumpster.” He tries to maintain a serious expression, but a laugh sneaks out. “I’ll make sure all of your meat gets burnt.”

You gasp dramatically. “You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, but I would.” Kino peeks down at the grilling meat, which is seconds away from being finished. “Yeah, I’d say it could use a few more minutes.”

“A few minutes? You’re going to burn this whole place down.” You grab the tongs to claim the perfectly cooked meat for yourself before Kino could ruin it.

The both of you laugh as you dish out the meat and get the next round onto the grill. And he’s right - the barbecue is absolutely delicious. Possibly the best you’ve had in a while.

As you eat, he tells you all about his family, and how he grew up the one son of many daughters - all younger than him. The youngest is a whopping twelve years younger than him - she just started first grade.

“That’s actually insane,” you comment, in awe over the sheer size of his family.

“My parents just don’t know when to quit.”

“My parents would be so jealous. They weren’t able to conceive again after me.”

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. It was kind of nice growing up just me and my brother. Our little family was perfect, actually, until my brother moved out.”

“What happened?”

“He graduated high school and then he disappeared.” You frown a little. You haven’t spoken with your brother in years, mainly because you don’t know how to contact him or find him. “He didn’t want to take over the farm, so he left. Didn’t tell any of us where he was going. I haven’t seen him since I was in middle school.”

“Were you close?”

You pick at the food sitting on your plate. “I thought we were.”

Kino places a freshly grilled piece of meat in front of you, encouraging you to eat. He’s watching you warmly, like you’re a sick puppy he wants to take care of. It’s sweet, but you don’t need his pity.

You roll your eyes and force a laugh. “It’s old news, anyway. Nearly ten years have passed and I’ve accepted the way things are now. But anyway, that’s why my parents want me to succeed so badly. I’m their only chance at a successful kid.”

“I can relate, as the only son.”

It feels so good to have someone here that can understand you so deeply in that regard, even if your family situations are different. Shinhye’s parents don’t put any kind of pressure on her about anything, and Nailah’s parents pretty much disowned her when she came out, which is it’s own brand of terrible. Both girls were super supportive of you and they always did their best to give you advice when you were struggling under the weight of your parents’ expectations. But they couldn’t quite understand you the way Kino could.

You smile, genuinely feeling placated. He’s just so peaceful to be around. As you stuff another strip of meat into your mouth, you groan, delighted. “You’re right, by the way. This place is the bomb.”

“Told you so.” His lips curl up into a smirk.

The mood stays light as you finish your meal, stuffing yourselves to the brim with the delicious meats and side dishes. Then when everything is paid for (Kino insists on taking care of the bill, much to your chagrin), you head off through Chinatown to your next destination - karaoke.

You had tried to warn him that you’re not much of a singer, but he said it doesn’t matter - half the fun of karaoke is just singing without any regard for how good you actually are. It’s therapeutic, he had said.

And so you find yourself holed up in a private room with Kino, who sings absolutely gorgeously all night, by the way. You feel like an idiot every time you take the microphone and warble a shitty rendition of Etta James or Ella Fitzgerald.

“Why do you keep picking such old songs?” Kino asks as you pass him the microphone, eyes already geared on the screen to choose his next solo.

“That’s what I like.”

“Lucky for you that’s what I like, that’s what I like…” Kino quietly sings a bit of Bruno in response as he scrolls through the song choices. “Oh, hey! We should do a duet! You know Elton John, right?”

You look up from your glass of water to see Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John highlighted on the TV screen. “You want me to actually sing with you and your angel voice? Nuh uh, I don’t think so.”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun.” He selects the song and picks up the second microphone, holding it out to you. “Please?”

The music intro starts up and you sigh dramatically. This is going to be a shitshow, but how could you say no when he’s looking at you with that little pout? “Fine. But can you tone down the professional singing a bit so I don’t feel so self-conscious?”

“Don’t feel self-conscious, you’re doing fine.” He smiles at you before lifting the microphone to his lips. “Don’t go breaking my heart.”

Reluctantly, you do the same. “I couldn’t if I tried.”

“Oh, honey, if I get restless…”

“Baby, you’re not that kind.”

The lyrics bounce back and forth between the two of you, and he’s looking at you more than he’s looking at the screen, trying to make sure that you’re enjoying yourself. He overacts the whole time he’s singing, being intentionally goofy to get you to laugh. It works.

“Kino, I’m trying to sing. Stop distracting me.”

“_____, I’m trying to have fun. Stop being a fun sponge.” He jumps to stand behind you, grabbing your shoulder and popping out from behind you as he sings, “Ooo, ooo. Nobody knows it. When I was down...”

You strike a pose and look back at him, finally letting yourself join in on his antics. “I was your clown.”

He dissolves into a fit of giggles and misses the next few lines. Damn, this boy is truly a ray of sunshine. You laugh along with him, and you both goof off for the rest of the song.

By the time you get to the outro (which takes up literally the last full minute of the song), he’s holding your hand and you’re both jumping around like a bunch of goons, completely out of breath and pretty much just squawking.

“Don’t go breaking my heart,” he sings over and over.

“I won’t go breaking your heart,” you continuously respond.

After Lord-knows how many repetitions of that, the song finally fades out to a close, and you both just stare at each other.

“Why the hell is that song so long?” You ask him, completely out of breath.

He cracks a huge smile, “Who the hell knows.”

And then he throws his arms around you, laughing brightly and pulling you into a tight hug. He’s warm and just a little sweaty, but honestly his shirt smells amazing and he’s so soft and every inch of you burns with the sweetest, most delicate flames. His laughter fills you, and you don’t have a single care in the world.

If only you could just stay that way forever.

Come Tuesday morning, you’re thrown headfirst back into reality, a frown laying heavy on your lips as you look down at your assignment.

“What’s that look for? You got an A.” Shinhye asked, confused at why you seem so clearly upset.

“My grade is wrong again,” you grumble. You could have convinced yourself that the first time was just an honest mistake, and not a secret ploy to get you into his office. But twice in a row? It’s no coincidence that Mr. Physics And Math Whiz can’t manage to do the simple math required to accurately add up your points.

This time, you have no choice. You really need to talk to him.

Class wraps up and he looks like he’s getting ready to bolt like he did last week. You spit out a quick wait outside for me at Shinhye before dashing to the front of the room in an attempt to grab his attention.

Professor Yang looks up as you approach, and his face remains neutral. “Yes?”

“Do you have a minute to talk about my grade? You made a mistake.” You look over your shoulder and watch as the last remaining students duck out the door, Shinhye included. You lower your voice a smidge to ensure no one overhears you. “Last week’s assignment was graded incorrectly, too.”

“I don’t have time to chat right now. I have an appointment with another student.”

For some reason, he doesn’t seem guarded as he speaks with you. There’s no edge to his voice. It catches you off guard - you hadn’t anticipated that there would ever come a time when he’d speak with you so casually.

He continues. “You can make an appointment with me later in the week if it’s an issue. Or you could just show up unannounced the way you do.”

Professor Yang looks up at you briefly, one eyebrow raised in a way that is both playful and accusatory. Is he actually teasing you? And willingly drawing attention to the time you caught him listening to your sex music? All of the blood that should be fueling your brain suddenly relocates to your cheeks and chest, making your skin warm and visibly flushed.

You’re right, then. He really is just trying to get you to visit him.

He stands with his bag in hand, ready to leave, but he pauses when he finally notices your flustered state. His playful expression dissipates as he observes you. You wish with everything in you that you could read his mind, that you could know what he’s thinking when he looks at you that way.

Then again, if there is any chance that he’s still as fatally attracted to you as you are to him, it’s probably best that you don’t know about it. It would be far too tempting to you, and you might actually convince yourself to act on your urges - your honor be damned.

Finally, he releases you from his gripping gaze and heads for the door. His voice floats over his shoulder, perfectly neutral as he makes a final suggestion. “Make an appointment.”

You chew your bottom lip as you watch him leave, disappointed in yourself for so easily turning into a helpless school girl. It’s absolutely unfair that he could have such an effect on you.

More than a little disgruntled, you meet Shinhye out in the hall and inform her that you’ll have to make an appointment with him later in the week.

“Busy guy, I guess. Midterms are approaching, after all.” Shinhye easily shrugs it off before changing the subject. “Ready to grab some lunch?”

You nod, thankful for a change of pace. “Yeah. Let’s get going.”

The two of you meet Nailah at the Indian restaurant down the street from your dorms, and you settle in for some of the best curry in town. You’ve eaten here multiple times with Shinhye, but it’s only recently that Nailah has started joining you. Ever since you brought them together for Nailah’s film project, the three of you have started spending more time together.

You dig into the naan, and peek over at Nailah, who’s sitting next to you. “How was your workout? You’re absolutely glowing,” you tease her, even though you recognize that she somehow manages to make a sweaty sheen look stunning.

“Sweetie, I’m well aware that this isn’t the look. I just stuck around too long and didn’t have time to shower before meeting you two.” She raises her eyebrows disapprovingly at your comment, but you know she’s smiling inside. “And it was great, thank you for asking.”

“No distraction this time?” Shinhye asks, stuffing naan into her mouth.

“Nope, he wasn’t around today.”

You don’t remember hearing anything about a distraction, and you wonder what’s up. “What are you talking about?”

“Hot guy.” Shinhye giggles.

Nailah cracks a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I am still very much a lesbian. But trust me, I can appreciate a gorgeous looking man when I see one.”

Shinhye leans in. “Apparently everyone oggles him every time he’s there. Nailah included.”

“You would too, if you ever saw him!”

“And he might be a student here, because she’s seen him around campus a few times, too.” Shinhye continues to dish, and you get the impression that she’s been chatting with Nailah a lot more than you originally thought.

You laugh and say to Nailah, “Maybe you should get to know him. Set him up with Shinhye. She could probably use a little man love in her life, yeah?”

Shinhye’s mouth forms a line. “I don’t need a man, thank you.”

“What about you?” Nailah nudges you with her elbow. “You never talk about boys - or girls, whatever you’re into. Maybe you could use a little someone.”

Before you can defend yourself, Shinhye speaks up again. “If she’s going to get with anyone, it should be that tall guy from the party the other week. He’s super cute.”

You think back to the party and immediately remember hiding in a closet with Yuto. Some of your memories from that night had resurfaced, including your thoughts about how beautiful he may or may not be. The thing is, you still think he’s good-looking even without your booze goggles. “Yuto?”

Shinhye shrugs. “I don’t remember his name. I think you said he’s a drummer.”

“Oh, Wooseok!” That’s right - Shinhye and Nailah had taken off before you ran into Yuto, so they haven’t even met him. You shake your head. “No, we’re just friends. I think. I mean, I think that we’re friends, maybe. We may not actually be friends. I guess I don’t really know him all that well.”

Nailah chimes in. “Shinhye’s right, though, he was really cute. And he seemed like he could be into you. Remember how excited he was to see you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You brush off their comments, but you sense a few crumbs lingering in your thoughts. He is kind of attractive…

“And even if you’re not looking for anything serious right now, that doesn’t have to stop you from having fun, right?” Nailah waggles her eyebrows at you.

“Nailah, not everyone has loose morals like you.” Shinhye teases, which earns her a rueful look from Nailah.

“Okay, when did you two become such close friends?” You hate the bitter taste of the words in your mouth. Something about the way they interact seems strange to you. You just didn’t expect them to seem so close. Shinhye doesn’t easily get to the point where she’s playful and teasing around people, so Nailah must have grown on her pretty quickly.

“I’m pretty insistent on making talented people my friends. You have to hear the music she wrote for my project.”

“Nailah, it’s just a first draft. It’s not even that good.”

“No, it’s really good. And you need to give yourself credit.” The two of them share a meaningful look before Nailah continues. “Basically, she blew me away with her music and I decided that we need to be good friends so I can convince her to work on all of my stuff.”

“I didn’t really have much choice.” Shinhye laughs.

You’re glad to see that they’re getting along so well, even if it makes you feel just a touch uneasy. Maybe you’re just feeling jealous? Or excluded? Whatever it is, you’re being territorial and it’s dumb. So you push the feeling away. “I’m glad that you were able to work so well together.”

“Yeah, I really owe you!” Nailah responds. “I wouldn’t have gotten in touch with her if it hadn’t been for you.”

“What else am I good for?” You mutter rhetorically, hoping the sentiment didn’t come out as bitter as it felt.

Shinhye seems to notice your attitude, and she sucks air through her teeth. “Actually, we only invited you along to pay the bill…”

For only a second, you’re shocked - and then you realize she’s joking. “Oh my God, shut up, Shinhye.”

The three of you burst into laughter, and you think that maybe it won’t be such a bad thing for the three of you to hang out more.

You scurry up the stairs in the math and science building, borderline peeved that Professor Yang’s only available appointment time is right after your piano lesson (ten blocks away). He insisted he had no other time available this week. So here you are, huffing and puffing and probably a little sweaty, but still trying your best to look like you’re not huffing and puffing and probably a little sweaty.

Yes, you actually put thought into your outfit. Yes, you actually put on some makeup this morning. Yes, you actually made sure each hair on your head was laying perfectly.

And yes, you refuse to acknowledge that it’s all because you want him to think you’re cute.

You make your way down the hall, and his door comes into view. You wonder passively if you beat him to the office again, if you’ll have to wait for him.

As you get close, you hear a sound coming from the door. But this time it’s not music.

It’s laughter.

Distinctly female laughter.

And then the door opens, and little Miss Legs with her gorgeous, shiny hair struts out from his office. Professor Yang is close behind her, a wide smile on his face as he laughs at whatever just transpired between them.

Who the hell is she?

Your stomach twists into an impossibly complex knot as you watch Professor Yang watch Gorgeous Woman turn the corner.

Why is he looking at her like that?

And why do you care so much?

You don’t realize that you’ve completely frozen in place until he looks in your direction, his expression suddenly rearranging into something less pleasant, his smile completely fading into a flat line.

There isn’t a single coherent thought tearing through your mind besides run. Your fight or flight response kicks in even though there’s no real danger, and the shattering of your heart begs you to leave so you can try to stop imagining how that woman must have been flirting with him, and he must have been flirting back, and are they an item? Is he seeing someone?

Why the hell does it matter?

He finally puts two and two together, and realizes why you’re staring at him so dumbfounded. His eyes widen, his hand reaches out to you. “_____…”

It doesn’t matter how beautiful his voice sounds as it wraps around your name. He can’t stop you from darting to the stairs and bolting out of that goddamned building.

It shouldn’t be so much of a surprise. There’s nothing stopping him from seeing other people. You literally hooked up with him once, and that was months ago. That’s the extent of your relationship with him.

But when you think about him screwing that bubbly bitch the way he screwed you, you feel sick to your stomach.

And maybe there’s nothing between the two of them. You only saw a second of their interaction, and you have no idea who she is to him. But of course you can only assume the worst. They have to be fucking at the very least - they’re both God-tier gorgeous, they’re practically meant for each other.

A sharp pain works its way through your chest. She’s a thousand times prettier than you, no doubt about it. There’s no way he could ever be attracted to you when there’s someone like her in his life.

But he shouldn’t be attracted to you, and you shouldn’t be attracted to him!

You want to scream - you’re so torn between what you’re actually feeling and what you should be feeling, what you do want and what you should want.

You feel hurt, jealous, betrayed.

You should feel nothing at all.

You want him.

You should want nothing to do with him.

The bottom line is that you know you need to stop doing this to yourself. You need to stop whatever kind of feelings you have towards him so you can freaking move on with your life instead of constantly feeling so wrapped up in him. You could fawn over him forever, but the bottom line is you will never be with him again.

You need to stop wishing that there might be a chance.

Kino surprises you Monday night by waiting for you outside of your dorm building before R&B Ensemble. He’s bundled up in his jacket, with a beanie on his head and a scarf around his neck. It’s October, so it’s definitely chilly outside, but he looks like he’s more than ready for winter. You hold back a laugh when you see him.

“Howdy, partner.” Kino greets you with a buttery southern twang. It’s not the first time he’s done this, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Quit it with the accent already!” You scold him playfully. “I grew up on a farm, not the deep south.”

He laughs as you start walking in the direction of the music building. “You are from south of here, though.”

“So are you, technically.”

“Hardly!”

You stop mid-step and turn around to face him, gesturing wildly to his person. “Okay but who’s acting more like a southerner here? Do you see what you’re wearing? It’s like you’ve never experienced the cold before.”

“Shut up,” he laughs, bumping into you as he passes by. “I’m keeping my throat warm for practice.”

“You’re such a dork.” You hurry to catch up to him.

You’ve really grown close to Kino quickly. You see him literally every day of the week because you’re in so many of the same classes together, and you frequently go out to grab snacks and coffee in between. (Well coffee for you, hot chocolate for Kino. He says coffee is too bitter.)

He teases you constantly, and you’re not afraid to give it right back to him. But he’s also become your study buddy, and he does a great job helping you with your aural skills assignments. The class requires you to be able to sing different variations of scales on-pitch, and you’re already not great with singing correct pitches to begin with. With his help, you’re getting more and more comfortable with it - even if you’re still kind of shitty.

“What are you up to this Saturday?” You ask. “I’m kind of in the mood for some more of that Korean barbecue. And I could be convinced to do some more karaoke.”

“Well obviously I’m going to be getting some Korean barbecue and doing some karaoke, then. Right?”

“I thought you might say that.”

Kino holds the door to the music building open, allowing you to pass through. “M’lady.”

“What a sweet, southern gentleman,” you drawl.

“The south side is not southern!”

“You started it! Don’t try to fight me about this.”

You’ve decided after all of the nonsense with Professor Yang, you don’t care enough about the couple of extra points. Obviously if he’s seeing someone else he’s not trying to win you over by boosting your grades. He’s just actually a fucking idiot who can’t count.

Midterms are coming up right around the corner, and that means it’s almost time for the workshop half of the semester to begin. As you’re all working on this week’s lab, Professor Yang calls each student to the front of the class individually to chat about what instrument they want to build.

Shinhye goes up before you - she wants to build a miniature marimba. You thought about doing the same, since it would be easy for you to play with your piano background, but you decided a little while ago that you’re interested in building a dulcimer. It could be a fun challenge for you.

Then it’s your turn. You don’t bother to put on a fake smile as you approach the front of the room, and he seems to be all business as well. You take a seat across from him.

“So.” He starts with a casual tone. “What are your thoughts for your final project?”

“Appalachian dulcimer,” you respond bluntly. He cocks his head, noticing your attitude.

“Alright.” He makes note of your choice on the pad of paper in front of him. “Have you looked into some different body shapes?”

“I want to do an hourglass shape.” You try not to stare him down. You don’t want to make a scene, no matter how bothered you feel. “With diamond shaped sound holes.”

He scribbles, eyes trained on the paper in front of him as he speaks. “We can definitely do the hourglass shape, although bending the wood is a little time consuming. Not impossible, though.”

“That’s fine.”

Setting his pen down, he finally looks up at you. You hold his gaze. His blank expression is impossible to read, and you try to keep yours as neutral as possible.

“Should we discuss your grade?”

“Nothing to discuss, really. Just make sure you count my points correctly next time.” You stand. “Is that all you needed?”

Professor Yang sits back, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Yes. Send up the next student, please.”

“My pleasure.”

As you clomp back to Shinhye, you fix a smile onto your face and let the kid next to you know that it’s his turn. You plop back into your seat, and focus one-thousand percent on finishing your lab so that you can keep your mind off of Professor Yang as long as possible.

You bury your hands deeply into your jacket pockets as you make your way up the stairs to the designated rehearsal room, feeling way too nervous for something that really isn’t even a big deal.

Changgu, the boy from the reception desk, had invited you to tonight’s Jazz Band rehearsal. When he mentioned it to you in person you thought it would be fun, but you didn’t actually expect to get an invitation. You figured he would probably forget, or if he tried he probably wouldn’t get permission. But then he called you, and now it’s really happening.

You open the door, hoping to all that is Holy that Changgu is already there so you don’t have to wait awkwardly - and thank the Lord, he’s sitting at the piano. He looks up as you enter and waves you over, a bright smile on his face.

“Hi, ____.” He greets you as you approach. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Thank you so much for inviting me!” You try not to gush, telling yourself that you have to stay cool. “I seriously appreciate it. I’m looking forward to watching and listening.”

“No problem.” He looks over toward the door again as the director makes his entrance, and Changgu stands. “Let me introduce you to Corbin, yeah?”

You nod and follow him towards the front of the room. Just be cool.

The director notices the two of you walking forward. “Is this our guest?” He asks, smiling broadly as he tugs off his jacket.

“Yes, this is _____. She’s the piano student I told you about.” Changgu introduces you warmly, and you don’t expect it. “She says she’s going to audition to be in Jazz Band next school year.”

“Going to be some awfully big shoes to fill once this guy graduates.” The director slaps Changgu on the back, laughing deeply. Then he extends his hand to you. “Call me Corbin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Corbin.” You shake his hand firmly. “And I look forward to auditioning.”

“I’ll be looking forward to hearing what you have to offer.”

You sit next to the piano for the duration of the practice, and it’s really an interesting experience to witness their rehearsal. Really, it’s run no differently from any other ensemble. The biggest difference is the sheer talent of the students involved. You’re sitting in a room with some of the best musicians in the school, and even though they’re all so good, they run into trouble spots in the music like anyone else would. It’s a really great reminder to you that no one is perfect.

It’s also really enlightening to you to see how Changgu navigates the music. He doesn’t have full sheet music in front of him - he’s working solely with lead sheets that only give him the chord progression and general rhythms. You’ve worked with lead sheets before and you understand how much room for interpretation they give. Changgu’s hands skillfully caress the keys, arpeggiating and clustering, making the music his own in a way you wouldn’t have considered. By the end of rehearsal, you have a whole new appreciation for Changgu’s craft and the amazing skill he possesses.

“I’m sure you already know this,” you stand next to the piano after rehearsal wraps up, “but you’re seriously an incredible pianist.”

“Thank you,” he laughs with a gentle smile. “What did you think of the rehearsal?”

“Eye-opening.” You nod succinctly.

Changgu snaps his binder shut. “You know, since we’re here, why don’t you play me something?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Come on.” He stands, patting the piano bench for you to sit. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Shit. You aren’t exactly prepared, but what good pianist doesn’t have some music memorized for times like these?

Just a touch nervous - this is kind of a big deal, after all - you take your seat at the piano and start playing “Autumn Leaves” by Joseph Kosma. It’s one you’ve been playing for years and years, and it sits comfortably in your fingers.

As you play, you lose yourself to the song, and you don’t even notice the two boys approaching the piano. It isn’t until you wrap up and they start slowly clapping that you realize they’ve joined you.

“Who do we have here?” A tall, blonde boy smirks down at you.

“_____. She’s trying to take my seat next year.” Changgu introduces you.

“That’s me.” You look up at them both, and the broad-shouldered one speaks up.

“Too bad we won’t be around next year to play alongside you.”

“Seniors?” You inquire. Both Blondie and Shoulder Boy nod. “That’s too bad, then.”

Blondie smirks again before turning to Changgu. “You still in to go to the jazz club this weekend?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” Changgu agrees.

Shoulder Boy looks over at you. “Do you want to come? We’re all going to perform at the open mic down at Andy’s Saturday night.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. You should come.” Blondie leans on the piano, and he’s quite persuasive in the princely gaze he holds.

Changgu speaks up, too. “Have you ever been?”

“No.”

“Well then, you have to come. It’s twenty-one and up, of course. You’re old enough, right?”

You look between the three of them. When in the hell would you ever get the chance to go to a jazz club with three seniors? Besides... it could be a great opportunity to do something different and get yourself out of this stupid funk you’ve been in. Might help you get over all the nonsense with Professor Yang. So why not? “O-of course.”

“Great.” Blondie taps the piano with his knuckle. “I’m Yanan, by the way. This is Shinwon. We’ll see you Saturday.”

Honestly, you feel pretty guilty about canceling your plans with Kino. But this is a special opportunity, and you can get Korean barbecue with Kino anytime. This is your chance to mingle with the big kids of the department, and it’s not something you want to pass up.

You flash your ID to the bouncer - your fake ID, that is - and casually enter the jazz club. You do your best to look nonchalant about it, and the bouncer doesn’t even question the birthdate on your card.

The club is dimly lit, but there are soft yellow lamps around the bar and candles on the tables. The aura is immediately calming, yet alluring.

Yanan is the first of the trio that you see - he’s standing at the bar, ordering drinks. You walk up to him and he notices you immediately.

“What are you drinking tonight?” He smiles lazily at you. It’s charming on him.

You raise an eyebrow. “Perhaps an Old Fashioned.”

“How classy.”

“We are in a jazz club. Seems fitting, don’t you think?”

Yanan adds your order to his list, and turns back to you as the bartender gets your drinks together. “Has Changgu talked you into performing tonight?”

“Me? No, he hasn’t.” You chuckle. “Should I?”

He shrugs minutely. “I don’t know if I’d go on stage in that dress…”

Your jaw drops at the unexpected comment. “What’s wrong with my dress?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. Trust me.” Yanan looks you up and down. “Just be prepared for some staring.”

The dress in question is undoubtedly one of your favorites, which is why you put it on for tonight. The neckline dips low between your breasts and the skirt hugs your hips comfortably. It shows off your shape, to say the least. You feel gorgeous and mature when you wear it, and it just feels like the right choice for this type of event.

Yanan’s flirty undertone stirs up a sweet warmth in your belly and somehow makes you feel more confident under his gaze. You turn towards the bar, subtly arching your back to give him a view or your rear end. “Stare all you want, sweetheart.”

You barely catch Yanan’s smirk before you realize the bartender is handing over your drinks. You each take two glasses and he leads you towards the front of the club, near the stage. The whole walk over is spent questioning how the hell you had the nerve to actually flirt back, but hey. ‘New school year, new you’ and all that. Maybe this is you finally stepping into your womanhood.

Changgu and Shinwon are seated on bar stools around a tall, circular table. A single tea candle flickers at the center of the table, throwing bits of light on the boys’ faces. Yanan claims the seat next to Shinwon and pulls the empty seat ever so slightly closer before you can sit down.

So this is how tonight’s going to go.

You have a lot of fun at the club, sipping your Old Fashioned, chatting with the boys, and listening to some seriously incredible music. Honestly, you’d take another night like this over a night at a regular club any day. This is laid-back, classy, sensual. Just your style.

When the guys get up to perform, you don’t even mind sitting by yourself. You feel so relaxed. Maybe it’s because you’re on your third Old Fashioned. (Yes, it’s going to be an expensive night. No, you don’t care.)

A girl joins the three of them on stage to play drums, and you think you might recognize her from the music department. She has a cute, round face and big eyes, like a doll. And it’s probably a good thing she’s there, too - her soft brushes set the perfect tone for the trio’s music.

Changgu tears it up on piano, of course, but in the sweetest, most melodic way. It’s a really easy, smooth sound. Shinwon plucks away at the upright bass, and Yanan contributes soulful bits of saxophone melodies. You want to just close your eyes and live in the music.

Their short set is over far too soon, but it’s only fair; they get two songs, just like everybody else. When they rejoin you at the table, the girl drummer comes with, tucked under Shinwon’s arm.

“Well done, well done,” you snap your fingers, truly taking on the jazz club persona.

“Thank you,” Changgu bows his head, a sweet grin on his lips. And then he throws you for a loop. “Get ready, you’re probably next.”

“What?”

Your ears perk up as the emcee on stage calls your name.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I signed you up.” Changgu explained, grin turning mischievous. “Go play that tune you played for us the other day.”

“Changgu!” You’re barely even able to protest as he nudges you toward the stage. “Not fair!”

“Just do it,” he encourages, giving you one last little shove.

Suddenly you are very nervous, and you wonder if you’re even sober enough to play well. You’re not drunk yet, but definitely tipsy enough that you’ve started to feel lightheaded.

Jeez. This is completely unfair.

Sitting down at the piano, you pull the microphone over to your mouth. “Hey, everyone. Um, I’m _____, and I was brought up here entirely against my will. Thanks for that.” You gesture towards the boys’ table and laugh, and the audience chuckles with you. “I’m going to play you all a little song called ‘Autumn Leaves’.”

Pushing the microphone away, you settle your fingers onto the keys and let the music take you away. Even in your slightly intoxicated state, the notes come to you easily. You feel yourself swaying as you play, but not in a drunken way - just in the way that pianists do.

You follow the melody, giving yourself the artistic freedom to change things up as you please, and by the end you genuinely feel good about the performance. The crowd applauds as you take a bow and usher yourself off stage, only willing to use up one of your two allotted songs.

As you head back towards the table, all you can think about is how you’re going to get Changgu back for that stunt. At the very least, he could have stopped you from ordering another drink if he knew you were going to be performing. But to let you get tipsy and then toss you up on stage, completely unprepared? You shake your head, chuckling. So not cool.

A hand grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You’re alarmed for only a moment before you turn around - and you’re filled with dread.

Professor Yang.

Why is he here? Why did he have to show up tonight?

Why does it feel like you just can’t get away from him?

“What do you-”

“You have no right to be here.” He cuts you off sternly. “You’re underage.”

Frowning, you shake out of his grip. “I’m aware.”

“You need to go home. Now.”

“Oh my God, seriously? Who do you think you are? I know you’re older than me, but you’re not my father. Back off.” The alcohol is catching up with you, but you don’t care what you say to him.

“You’re being irresponsible-”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I do, right?” Your brow knits together and you’re so full of rage. “I fucking slept with you, after all, so maybe that’s just what you should expect from me. I’m just some irresponsible child, right?”

“Don’t talk like that.” Professor Yang glances around to make sure no one is paying attention to your conversation. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Why do you care? You don’t care about me. Just leave me alone.” You turn and head towards your table again, wanting to just be done with him. You can’t even have a nice night without him somehow coming along to ruin it.

You make it to the table, and the guys start to congratulate you before they recognize the man that’s been following you.

“Oh hey, Hongseok.” Yanan gets up from his seat, places his hands on your shoulders, and turns you around to face the bane of your existence. “What did you think of our little _____, here?”

“I’m not your friend. At least call me Mr. Yang if you can’t manage the title Professor.” His eyes drop to you for only a moment, stopping to notice Yanan’s fingers on your bare shoulders. His voice is surprisingly cool as he speaks. “She came here with you?”

“She did, Mr. Yang.”

“She needs to go home now. She’s underage and shouldn’t be here.”

“Underage?” Changgu speaks up.

With a roll of your eyes you confess, “I’m nineteen.”

“Yes. So someone please take her back to her home.” Professor Yang looks at the boys, stopping on Yanan. “Not you. Changgu, please escort her.”

“Not me?” Yanan protests behind you.

“I don’t trust you. Bringing a sophomore here and getting her drunk.” He scoffs.

“She’s an adult. She can do what she wants.” Yanan defends you. “It’s just a little alcohol. She’s fine.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You agree, frowning at Professor Yang. “I’m not drunk.”

Changgu jumps in. “No, Professor Yang is right. She shouldn’t be here if she’s underage. I’ll take her home.”

“I’ll take myself home. I feel fine.” Brushing off Yanan’s hands, you head for the door. You just want to get the hell out of there and away from him.

You’ve barely stepped outside when you feel his presence - he followed you out. Professor Yang steps up right next to you, grabbing hold of your arm again. “Stay put. I’ll get you a cab.”

“I can take the train.”

“Not by yourself, dressed like that.” He stands at the curb to hail the taxi.

“I can wear whatever I want,” you pout.

“I know that. But you’re also smart enough to know there are a lot of people out there who won’t respect your autonomy.” He spares a glance back at you, and you notice the concern on his face. “Just let me get you in a cab so I know you’ll be safe.”

You scoff. “Like you care.”

“Would you stop saying that?” His suddenly loud voice startles you as he abandons his cab-hailing mission. “This is exactly the kind of shit I wanted to avoid with you. You should have dropped the class when you had the chance.”

You stare him down. “Like I said: I’m just full of irresponsible decisions, aren’t I?”

And then the most dangerous thing in the world happens.

His gaze falls to your lips.

It only takes up a moment, but his eyes linger just long enough that you know it can’t have been by chance.

Your voice is infinitesimally small as you murmur, “What was that?”

Professor Yang searches your face, a sort of melancholy in his eyes. “Don’t make me answer that question.”

Every ounce of blood in your veins boils over, making your face hot. You’re speechless. Completely, utterly speechless. You honestly, genuinely, cannot think of anything to say.

And neither can he.

So you both stew in the thickening air, the space between you filled to the brim with the weight of his unspoken confession. It’s suffocating.

This is precisely the type of moment that is bound to screw you over eventually. Not even a deep breath can calm you - your lungs are full of his cologne, and you want nothing more than to bury your nose in his chest.

It would be so easy to grab him by the collar and pull him into your arms, claim his lips with your own and remind him how good it feels to be with you.

Show him that he still prefers you over that other woman.

Professor Yang finally steps back, breaking the spell and returning to the curb. He calls over a taxi and pulls open the back door for you. “Where are you headed?” he asks you.

“Corner of 15th and State.” You near the cab as he pulls out his wallet, grabbing a few bills and handing them to the driver through the window.

“Take her to 15th and State, please. No other stops.”

“Yessir.”

Standing behind the door, you feel hesitant to take a seat.

Come with me, you want to ask of him. Come sit with me and look at me like I’m something special. Pretend that we might be in love, like we did that night.

All you want is another moment with him, but it won’t happen. You won’t let yourself speak those words.

The ringing of a cell phone catches your attention and he pulls his phone from his pocket, checking the caller ID and deciding that he needs to answer. To you, he says, “Get home safe, alright?”

Could that be his girlfriend calling? You’re hit with a wave of jealousy, and you call after him as he walks off. “Say hi to your girlfriend for me!”

Before he can even turn around, you drop into the car and slam the door shut, pouting in the back seat as the driver pulls away from the curb.

Yeah, that was a pretty childish thing for you to do. But you’re almost drunk and you don’t give a shit.

You get out your own phone. Not even 11PM and you’re already being sent home. This is ridiculous.

Just as you’re writing out an apology text to Changgu (to apologize for your lie and also the miserable turn of events this evening), your phone rings.

Why is Wooseok calling?

You answer, curious. “Hey.”

“_____…” He drawls your name.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Just drunk.”

“Not hosting another party, I hope.” You look out the window as you stop at yet another red light. “Haven’t you learned anything?”

“No party this time. It’s just me, by myself. Which is pretty lame…”

Ah. You think you know where this is going. “Why did you call me, Wooseok?”

“Come over and drink with me. It’ll make me feel better. Pleaseee?”

You’re quiet for a second as you consider. You think about everything Professor Yang said to you tonight, how he called you irresponsible.

Irresponsible does seem to be your middle name these days.

“Alright, I’ll be there in ten.”

Wooseok is properly drunk by the time you arrive, but he’s not messy. He’s actually very easy to be around - or maybe you just feel that way because you’re a bit drunk yourself. He supplies you with a few shots of tequila, and you’re certainly well on your way.

You’ve still got enough sense to know that the two of you should have at least some water tonight to avoid a hangover headache in the morning, so you get up from the couch to grab each of you a glass. Wooseok follows you, and he leans against the wall as you get the water.

“I got a pretty good grade on my theory test this week. All thanks to you.”

“That’s awesome! I knew you could do it.” You pour water from the filtered pitcher into each glass and hand him one. “Drink that.”

“You know what? You’re a great teacher.” He obediently takes a sip. “And I thought about what you said. You’re right, I’m a badass drummer and that’s… that’s the coolest thing.”

“Cheers to that!” You clink your water glass against his and gulp some of it down.

“But the coolest thing about you is how you just make everything seem so easy. You’re so smart. And hot. S’not fair.”

“I’m hot?” You ask. The warmth of the liquor in your veins makes you feel soft and fuzzy, and grin up at him lazily. Has he always been this attractive? You’ve seen him in that jean jacket plenty of times, but for some reason it just looks especially good on him right now.

“Hell yeah, you’re, like, way hot.” He rubs his eyes. “Hey, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you like Yuto?”

“Yuto?” That’s probably the last question you could have expected him to ask.

“Yeah. It’s just, I saw you go in the closet with him at the party and I was just wondering what happened.”

“Oh. Nothing happened, actually.” You shake your head, giggling at the way the motion makes you feel dizzy. “He just saw the RA show up and he pulled me aside so that we wouldn’t get in trouble. We just stood there until the coast was clear, and then we left.”

“Do you like him, though?”

“I don’t know, I hardly know him. I don’t have any feelings for him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Wooseok leans toward you, a solemn expression on his face. “He’s my friend, you know. So if anything’s going on between you two, I should know about it.”

Why does it suddenly feel like you’re in trouble? He’s actually pretty intimidating. Maybe it’s just his size. “Would it be a problem if something happened between me and Yuto?”

He takes a step toward you, forcing you to back up into the kitchen counter bar. His hands rest on the counter on either side of you, locking you in place. “If something happened between you and Yuto, I’d probably have to try to convince myself that I shouldn’t make out with you right now.”

So that’s what he wants. His confession spreads through you like wildfire, and you feel blissfully awake and alive. With all of the bullshit you’ve been dealing with, you’re more than ready to get lost in something - or someone - else.

“Lucky for you…” You grab a fistful of his shirt, slowly pulling him closer. His gaze flutters briefly to your chest, your lips, your eyes. “You can do whatever you want.”

Wooseok takes the glass from your hands and places it on the counter with his glass. His palm comes to rest on your jaw, tilting your face upward as he leans in.

Either you’re drunk or you’re actually incredibly attracted to Wooseok - regardless, you’re shocked head to toe by the sheer intensity of his kiss. He radiates delicious aggression as his hand laces through your hair, his tongue tracing your lower lip. Your hands make their way behind his neck, and he is way too tall (but that’s actually pretty hot).

Next thing you know, his hands are on your waist and he’s lifting you up onto the kitchen bar. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in as close to you as possible, completely ignoring the way your dress slides up your thighs, exposing your legs to his wandering hand. With one of his hands still in your hair and the other gripping your thigh, you melt under his touch.

Wooseok is pure dominance, and he kisses you like it’s his last chance. Each press of his lips makes you hungry for more. Maybe you’re just deprived, but you seriously cannot get enough of him.

In the back of your drunken mind, you’re desperate to feel hands on your body. You want him to touch you and show you what those long fingers of his can do. You want him to tug your hair and bite your skin and God the way he’s breathing so heavily is so hot.

You pry his hand from your leg and bring it behind your back, silently begging him to rip your zipper and get you naked. He understands, immediately pulling the back of your dress open and fiddling with the hooks of your strapless bra. He makes quick work of it, and finally your chest is exposed.

Wooseok’s large hand cups your breast, his thumb rolling your nipple as his tongue dives between your lips. He tastes of alcohol and it’s the sweetest flavor as he decimates you. You let yourself moan unabashedly to encourage him - everything he does is exactly perfect and you want him to know that he should never, ever stop.

You lean back as his mouth starts to trail down your throat, giving him better access to your chest until you’re lying down across the bar. Wooseok’s hand travels up your torso from belly button to collar bone until his hand wraps around your throat, his mouth suckling your nipple.Tossing your head back, you moan so, so sweetly for him - your head hangs off the edge of the bar, and you get the most delicious headrush.

You’re completely caught up in the moment, and you need more. He has to give you more.

“Wooseok,” you murmur his name, head still hanging. “Let me feel your fingers. Jesus Christ. I want you to touch me. Please.”

With absolutely no hesitation his hand slides up your skirt, and he presses his palm against your clothed clit. “Ask me again, baby.”

Baby? Oh dear Lord you completely lose control of your senses when you hear that pet name. Breathily, you beg, “Wooseok, please touch me. Finger me. I want to feel your hands.”

“Good girl.” He presses a line of kisses across your chest, and he tugs your underwear off, dropping the soaked fabric onto the floor. Christ, you’re so wet for him.

The tips of his fingers sweep across your folds, targeting your clit and winding small circles around it. It’s a sharp and quick motion, and it makes you gasp, your back arching at the sudden onslaught of intense pleasure.

“Is that what you want, baby?”

There it is again - baby. Why does it sound so natural coming from his lips? “Yes, Wooseok! Oh my God… More, please, more…”

As you wish, Wooseok brought two fingers to his mouth, wetting them with his saliva before letting them slip past your folds, diving deep into your warmth. It’s exactly what you wanted, and the combination of his circling and pumping drives you absolutely wild.

“Tell me what you like,” he murmurs, and you let your fingers card through his soft hair.

You’re breathless, but you manage to find words. “I like… everything you’re doing. Oh God, I like how… rough you are… I want- ohh!”

The coil in your belly tightens, and you tug hard on Wooseok’s hair. He groans lowly, and your walls clench wildly around his fingers.

“What do you want?” His voice is breathy as he asks, and his teeth gently bite down on your nipple, tugging.

“I want to come, please, just keep going, let me come!”

“Go ahead, baby.”

He doesn’t do a single thing different - he just keeps his exact pace, that fucking spectacular tempo he’s got, letting you work yourself up until you finally hit your breaking point.

You arch your back as stars explode behind your eyelids, shooting you into another galaxy of pleasure and ecstasy. Your whole body feels electric and tingly, and your walls pulse joyfully around his fingers as you release every ounce of tension you’ve held.

What fucking fantastic fingers he has.

Before you can fully come down, though, you hear the apartment door open.

Panicked, you sit straight up, forcefully bumping heads with Wooseok. You both simultaneously clutch your foreheads, groaning from the pain. And in your hurry to sit up, you accidentally knock over one of the glasses sitting next to you on the counter, spilling water everywhere.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you apologize as you attempt to cover yourself with the dress that’s gathered around your waist.

Just then, Wooseok’s roommate, Minho, comes strolling in. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the two of you were just doing, and he frowns. “Seriously, Wooseok? The kitchen counter? You couldn’t fucking make it to the bedroom, or even give me a heads-up?”

“Whatever, dude.” Wooseok steps between you and Minho to help hide your disheveled state. “Can we have a minute?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Just don’t fuck up the couch too much.”

“We’re not-” Wooseok’s voice gets cut off as Minho yanks the bedroom door shut. He turns back to you, still rubbing his head. “Are you okay?”

You nod and let your dress fall down again so you can return your bra to its rightful place on your chest. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You’ve got some great tits, by the way.” He admires your chest as you hook your bra.

With a short chuckle you respond, “Thanks.”

“You know… We could fuck up the couch a little, if you want…” Wooseok suggests mischievously, despite the conversation he just had with his roommate.

“I think I should probably go, actually.” You feel more than a little awkward about his roommate showing up, and you’re positive that you must be fifty shades of red right about now. You jump down from the counter and head for the door, zipping up your dress along the way.

What should you say? Thanks? Sorry? See you again soon? You’re not prepared for this kind of situation. All you know is that you just want to get home.

So you do what anyone else would do and you just don’t say a damn thing as you bolt out the door.

Your mind is still too fuzzy from the alcohol and the orgasm to even process what just happened between the two of you, and all you can think about is how the whole skirt of your dress is wet from those glasses being knocked over and you probably look like a hot mess right now.

Normally you’d take the stairs out, but you feel too dizzy to make it down stairs without falling - so you wait for the elevator instead. And as if you haven’t already had enough of a weird night, the elevator doors open to a familiar concerned face.

“_____?” Kino stares at you from inside the elevator, taking in your messy hair, rumpled dress, dripping skirt.

You’re simultaneously relieved to see him and consumed with guilt - you had canceled your plans with him, and now look how the night has turned out. “Kino…”

It’s obvious by the look in his eye that he can tell something is wrong. You don’t even have to voice what’s happening inside of your head. He just knows. “Do you want to come over?”

Nodding, you feel the familiar burn of tears in the corner of your eyes.

What a hell of a night.

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 6.

Update | Check out Part 5.5 (Kino POV) and this ask (Wooseok POV) for bonus canon content!

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