#so we're pleasantly confused

[whatwhatwotter]

Having a toddler old enough to request YouTube videos

What I expected:

What I got:

[lipglossboy]

My mom when Bob was sent down to turn the electricity back on in the lab - "I feel sick. I don't want anything to happen to Bob. This show is sick… I mean if they kill Bob."

She keeps picking the exact right characters to worry about 😭

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

Angstrom Levy plays his hand. You fuck it up. [Invincible Variants x reader]

[Part one]  [Ao3] [5] [7] [Chapter Index]

6 * Bad Dog [5.5k]

"Since all those lost years when I thought I was the monster,

It turns out I was really the prey

Masturbating and waiting for the raid,

And hating every little thing about you all the way!"

The Ruminant - Go Hang

        The acrid breeze makes his blue curtain of a mask flutter. "Give us our shit." You almost don't think it's Mark talking, his voice is so different, so stereotypically New York native.

        The man standing on solid air ignores him. Good eye sliding from one Mark to another. "You're down one."

        "We're down a lot more than that, numbnuts." Mohawk throws his arms out. Gesturing to the empty space where other Marks could have been, but weren't. 

        "To be expected. This reality is much more resilient than most." At that, the men surrounding him bristle.

        "You meant for us to die." Baldie accuses, crossed arms tensing with the need for violence. "You were never going to deliver."

        The man, Angstrom, though you don't quite know it yet, laughs. Holding a scarred finger out to point at you. "I have though, haven't I? More than half of you wished to see this one again."

        You are slack in the arms of your savior. Conscious but head spinning with the sudden change of atmosphere. It was a good thing none of them could see your face behind the mask, see that you were awake and biding your time. 

        But he knows you're awake. The one holding you, the warrior raised on Viltrum from birth. He feels your pulse pick up under his hands, hears the skip of your heart, the faint smell of fear induced sweat under your armor. The others aren't close enough to sense it, you hide your feelings well, play dead good as a possum, but he knows. And he tells nobody.

        "You've all had a turn, so I think my end has been delivered." He finishes.

        The one with a bare face looks at Angstrom, confused. "I have no idea who that is. Where's William?"

        "Yeah." Backs up the long masked one. "Like I'd even give a fuck about some... whatever." he waves his hand, uncaring to find a word for some insignificant bug.

        Despite the backlash, Angstrom smiles pleasantly. "I'm aware in your realities, you didn't know or care for (Y/n) (L/n). That is perfectly acceptable. Don't think I've forgotten about the deals we've all made. But to fulfill them, I'll need you to find this dimensions Mark Grayson and bring him to me."

        Eyes twitch. Lips curl.

        "No," Scars finally says. He looks to you in the arms of that straight-laced Viltrumites arms and barely contains a smirk. He's going to enjoy ripping you out of them. Tearing his arms off for touching you. "I've got what I want. I'm done with this place."

        "You are aware I could leave you here or somewhere worse, correct?" Angstrom doesn't sound the least bit concerned regarding the mounting tension. The cracking knuckles. The nasty grinning-snarls, thirsty for a little more blood. 

        "You won't." Lensless hums, "We'll kill ya before you get the chance."

         "Then we'd actually be stuck here forever, dumbass." Mohawk barks. "We'll just torture him instead, duh." 

        Angstrom rose a brow. "There's only one of her left in all existence, remember that before you threaten me."

        You are consumed by crackling green light that seems to statically stick to your armor. You are falling, then not, draped over Angstrom's arm like a coat. Still trying to play knocked out. "I have the perfect reality ready for her if any of you move." He says before you're settled. "Pit of man-eating octomen I've been starving for months, waiting right here." A ring of power encircles your body, not touching you but threatening with its presence. "Move and she's there."

        "I don't care, man." Long Mask says. 

        Angstrom ignores him. "Get me Mark Grayson."

        "You've got ten of him right here," Emperor says. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll drop it."

        Angstrom laughs, nastily. So hard he shakes you in his grip. "Am I dog now, Mister Grayson?"

        "You're no better than one," Emperor replies.

        "Look at you all- looking at me like you want me to die. After everything I've given you." Spit flies off Angstrom's lips, landing on your visor. "I met so many of you with snot dribbling out your noses over this thing," he jostles you in his grip as you grit your teeth, "this worthless animal who in so many dimensions joins your conquest. Just some regular human who adds absolutely nothing to nearly every timeline. I don't get the appeal, but I don't have to. Do as I say or she dies."

        You observe the Marks. Ready to pounce. To throw caution to the wind. Some are hesitant, actually using their brains but enough of are ready to fucking shred you think you might get eaten by whatever an octoman is.

        It leaves you with no other choice. It was just a bonus it'd get him to shut up. You were dead tired of hearing this guy's voice. Hearing any guy's voice.

        You let out a weak, groggy groan. Catch Angstrom's attention, which is all you need. Watch the grin spread across his busted face. "Look who's awak-"

        "Bite off your tongue." Blood comes out of your nose in such a rush it splattered against the inside of your helmet. Power ripped from you all at once, used on this guy you didn't know, but definitely didn't trust. 

        Drip, drop atop your helmet. Then came the rivers of blood down his chin. Weaving through his beard. Tongue stuck all the way out his mouth, teeth grinding down, down, down. Sawing, squelching. He blinks, tongue half removed from his mouth, when your hold snaps. A scream that was more a gargle, splatters more blood across your visitor. You're thrown, ass over heel.

        His words are thick with pain and a brand-new lisp as he says, "Bad dog!"

        The sickly green light surrounds you as a portal opens up behind your back, snapping shut before the closest version of your ex could reach you. The last thing you saw was him smiling with blood bubbling over his lips. 

        Your landing was surprisingly soft. Skidding to a slow stop on silky tan sand. Scrambling to your knees to see where the portal was. Gone. No green, just a cloudless, hazy sky. Sun fat in the sky. Beating down harsh on the black metal of your armor. Around you there is nothing but more sand and ruins of a society long forgotten. 

        You don't know what happened. Don't know how to process what happened. Calling out to the nothingness, "Bring me back!" To no reply or help at all.

        ***

        "You-!"

        Biting off your own tongue was something the deeply deranged and suicidal did. Despite that criteria, Angstrom Levy had never wanted to do such a thing, but there you'd been- making him do it. 

         He was in acute shock. Slow. Unable to dodge the hands grabbing him, the fists beating him, not with his tongue dangling half-cut out his mouth. Threats came pouring in quick as they were delivered. Ribs broken. Ligaments torn, good eye gone red with burst blood vessels. 

        It'd lasted thirty seconds, maybe less, but a voice cut through the violent haze. "We can't get her back if he's dead." Said the boy who killed his father and wore his cloak. God, if Freud were still around. 

        The words didn't calm them, but soothed the blows like a balm. Mohawk had him by the collar, choking him with it. "Open the portal, cocksucker."

        Angstrom rose a hand, the only one he had left after that Viltrumite loyalist chopped the other off. He let it open slow, teasingly so. Power roiling under his skin, revenge on the mind. They'd thought they'd had him down and out, but he was nowhere near dead. He never planned to keep them along for the full ride. The plan was always to betray them. This was much sooner, and much bloodier, than planned. So be it. 

        "There." He heaved. They turned, looking into the opening to a new world. A world so dry it'd evaporate the marrow out of your bones. 

        Phantom didn't speak. Just shot his black and blue body through. One down, nine to go. 

        "That world," he begins, tongue awkwardly flailing over the bottom of his mouth, blood spilling down his throat just to be hacked out, "-that world has major time dilation. She could be very far from the origin point by now. Miles. It'll take him too long to find her... I can't-" He let the portal waiver, looking unstable, "I can't hold it long."

        "You can and you will." The ex-prisoner grabbed him by the balls. Through Angstrom's pants but still. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. 

        If guilt tripping wouldn't work, he had no other choice. "Wait... I can.. I think I've found her." More portals zap open all around him. Nine in total. "Do you see?" They turn, just to watch the portals shoot closer, swallowing them all whole before snapping shut. Leaving them to fall in the sand and Angstrom alone to his devices. 

        ***

        You'd tried it all. Screaming. Looking for an exit. Digging. Trying to call someone, anyone on your phone that had not a bar. All while the sun beat at your back. You didn't give up, not really, just resigned to moving somewhere else. Powers, you knew, were stupid. Angstrom could find you again even if you'd left the dropoff.

        You walked. Migraine gnawing at your temples. Power stores drained out. Boots dragged in the sand, prints sifting away as soon as they were made. Moved from wreck to wreck for the tiniest slivers of shade. Baked inside your helmet until you popped it off, wiping at the drying blood with your gloves. When there was a breeze, it felt like a hairdryer, making your eyes water.

       Two hours, you'd walked to find nothing.

       The sun moved slow, the sky fading to a dull purple, but you knew the second it dipped below the dunes, you'd be dead without a fire. Deserts don't stay hot without sun. Planks were easy come by, old wood waiting to disintegrate into the sand. You rooted through the tool belt attached to the body armor. Tear gas, a high-powered taser, a flare, a knife, ammo for a gun you didn't have, and a to-go first aid kit. 

        You tried the taser on the wood. It made the old thing crumble in your hands. You tried again to the same result. Again and again as the sun crossed the sky and the heat began to ebb. 

        ***

        He flew through the desert, combing it in a gird. Square mile by square mile, searching. Growing more desperate by the second. Head filling with what if's. 

        It's faint, a mere vibration in his left ear. He banks hard. Following. Forcing his hearing to it's limit- catching grains shifting below his flight path. Then it comes again. Audible this time. Bzzt. Lil more to the left. Bzzzzt! Not long now. He starts to slow right as the sound pinged from below. BZZZT!

        "Fuck you, motherfucker." Came out from a line of beams fallen together to make a concrete tent.

        He landed gently, trying not to make a dust cloud and scare you away. Watching your back as you tried to light a plank ablaze with a taser. It crumbled in your hands. You scoff, kicking debris into a cloud that makes you violently cough. 

        You could turn and see him. Husky purple dusk not yet camouflaging his blue-black body suit. But you don't. Instead, you keep trying to tase the remaining sawdust into flames. It doesn't work. 

        He floats above the sand, slowly rolling into your view. 

        ***

        Chaos. Total, absolute, chaos.

        Nine of them in the middle of some desert planet, tenth fucked off God knows where. No Angstrom to take them out. No (Y/n) to soften the blow. The rage settled in like a beat behind their eyes, a thrum under their fingerpads. They wanted to choke each other for existing. 

        Their personal genie had betrayed them, left them for dead. 

        He wasn't the first to blast off into the desert. Searching for a way out, for you. He was, however, first to shoot into the sky for a birdseye view. The atmosphere thinned, going from an ugly yellow to the familiar dark of space. Above the sphere, he hovered, seeing only sand. Around the planet he went, hoping, then finding those hopes were something juvenile. 

        The search extended into space. For other planets. He noticed then, flying through the cold dark there were no stars or gas giants or distant worlds. Only the planet they landed on and the too-close sun. 

        As if Angstrom Levy had found the one reality in all of existence with one dead world. One big, sandy, uninhabitable world. The perfect place for them all to die. The search could be expanded later, with more of them looking, but he doubted even their Viltrumite bodies could reach any planets if he couldn't see them. 

        He was angry, but couldn't fault the guy. He was going to rip off Angstrom's balls after all. He'd find a way out of this, the same way he'd found a way out of that hell of a Viltrumite prison. Scarred beyond recognition. Coming home to find the love of his life dead and long buried. 

        Except that now you were down on that sandball, somewhere. Hopefully alive. So why was he angsting up in space? 

        ***

        The taser shot out, connecting thick prongs to his suit. Electricity traveled fast through the carbon fiber, penetrating to his skin. He didn't seize and drop. He took it like he was nothing but thin air, like you were imagining him in a wave of heat induced hysteria.

        The prongs retracted and he took that as cue to step down into your concrete hut. Coming closer, slow, hands up over his chest like he wasn't going to hurt you- as if you'd believe that.

        You hear it. Something moving so fast the air splits around you. 

        You don't know what you're going to do. Shout? Duck? Gasp? You don't get to decide because he's on you. Holding you hard against himself, feet inches off the ground, hand pressed firm over your mouth. Head tracking the sonic spec in the sky as it passed over. When the coast is clear, he sets you down and backs off. Not leaving your nothing of a camp, but any space willing given by these freaks was noticeable. 

        "Leave." Power doesn't even bother to tickle your throat. You had jackshit left. Wouldn’t have jackshit for days if your luck stayed bad. You'd only blown yourself out like this one time- that day at the beginning of the end of your life. You'd never used your power on someone else powered before. Barley used it period. Only on little, meaningless, petty things. Until you used it all at once to save his life. Then on him. Blowing out you out like a tire. Failing. 

        Now you were here. Staring at a fully masked version of him, unable to control him or your life again. 

        Yet you try, "Go." The taser finds its home in your belt, replaced by the tear gas canister held over your head. "Or I'll set this fucking bomb off if you get any closer." It's a lie so obvious you couldn’t put your chest behind it. "I'll kill us both, I swear to God."        

         He doesn’t move. Your helmet sits on the ground at your feet. You wonder how fast you could set the tear gas off and put the thing back on. If the GDA-enhanced tear gas would make you go blind.

        As you fingered the pin, he pulled something from his belt. A short, metal pin. He approaches the pile of wood you’d made. You back up, knowing he'd catch you if you ran. Knowing you didn't have energy for any more running. He cracks the metal against a shred of concrete. Sparks rained down on the dry material and then there was fire. Small but as he stepped back, blaze growing. 

        Technically, you knew what he was doing. Starting a fire so you wouldn’t freeze to death, the breeze as the sun went down already cool. But mentally? You had no idea what he wanted. You knew that he was one of the ones that asked for you, that knew some version of you and decided thousands dead was worth it. Even though he was the first to your side on multiple occasions, you couldn’t know what he wanted. If he wanted something in exchange.

        The sky had gone a deep gray. Cold settling in between the sand dunes like an old bone's ache. You could leave, but the growing fire was your one and only shot of living. Just a guess, but the taser thing wasn’t going to work. 

        "What do you want?" You asked, shuffling closer. Still gripping the tear gas hard, reared over your shoulder like a weapon. "Tell me or I'll set it off."

        "I'm not going to hurt you." Through that demon of a modulator, you catch a softness, Mark whispering a secret he hadn’t told anyone else. More genuine than you’d heard from any of these alternates. 

        "How do I know you're not lying?" But there is no reply, and you don’t think he is. He's done talking and you're done fighting. 

        He sits first. On the edge of an uneven slab, leaving plenty of room for you. You watch him carefully. Sure he's going to lunge, a lurking predator luring you into a false sense of safety. So you lean against the wall instead, watching him and the fire. 

        He does lunge eventually, ten minutes later. Dashing forth to stomp out the fire as another body streaks across the sky. Tense as you both watched it go by. Waiting until there’s nothing but the night. Then he was back on his knees, cracking the stick onto new planks.

        "What is that?" You're still standing. Arm lifting the canister overhead once again.

        He looks up from the fire at you. Black going brown in the light. Tentatively, tortuously, and against every nerve in your body, you sit. Slip the tear gas canister back into your belt. Hoping he'd talk if you seemed a little less hostile. 

       "Tell me where I am. Who the fuck was that?" 

      You’re not shocked when he says nothing, only annoyed by your acceptance of it. He can’t bring himself to ruin this moment with you, finally alone. Hearing your voice, even angry, was like an angel’s song for the damned. Your face like something out a dream. Any nervous tics, little movements, shifts in your weight, was studied and tucked away to categorize and compare to what he knew. 

        You at seventeen, nervous and shy and sweet. Could you have become this bitter thing had you lived? Surely not. He'd have made sure you were taken care of. Made you into a wife with nothing to fret over. He hates him. The Mark of your dimension. Wants to turn him inside out for letting whatever happened to you- happen.

        You watched him right back with no knowledge of what his gaze meant. None of the same interest, but watching for the same things, instincts of being prey. Wondering when the slowly stalking fox was going to pounce, if the gaze was a challenge. In the thickening night, he was starting to blend in. You could still see his outline and the dark lenses reflecting back your stare. You try to look past them but can't, can't read anything from the blank, dark slate. You look away, wanting a momentary reprieve, backing down from the challenge. Movement. Your gaze right back, tense all over. Hand on the taser holster.

       The mask is off. Chin up, he is bare. There is stubble dark on his jaw, skin paler than you recalled Mark ever being, his hair a shaggy mess that hung past his ears, eye bags deep, nearly purple. He was Mark, no surprise there, the surprise was the slate blue of his eyes. Just like his father's. 

        You pull the taser out, but not wanting to escalate further, voice almost a whisper after you’d grown used to the quiet. "What do you want?" He looks up at you under dark brows and long lashes. It reminds you so much of your Mark you want to strike him, but think better of it. "Answer me." 

        It comes out breathy, hardly audible. "I just-" Two syllables and his voice breaks. Cracks right down the middle. He shuts his mouth, hand going to his throat, thumb massaging. He swallows, tries again but all that comes out is a hoarse sigh. His brows knit in frustration. He’d talked more than he was used to in the past few days, and with the dry air and nerves, what was left of his vocal cords wasn’t going to cooperate. 

        You don’t know what’s wrong with him, but now you understand why he wore that modulator.

        The mask goes back on. He's given up trying to talk, trying to show his belly like he wasn't a threat. You suspect violence, harassment, almost get up anticipating it, but it doesn't come. You're about to settle down when the ground shudders just outside your camp. You don't get the chance to check what it was because it steps inside between the concrete pillars.

        "We've been working together to find a way out of this shithole and here you two've been, love shackin' it up." His mask flutters in front of his face as he talks. Sand stuck to his tracksuit where blood had wet it. "Jesus, yer lucky I found you. Those other dudes have been losing they's fuckin' minds."

        Phantom rises, dashing the small fire away. He'd know his alone time with you would be short. They'd find you both eventually, but he was glad to have had it. Even if you looked at him with such disdain. For so many years, that's all he wanted. His voice failing him was punishment for letting you die, for letting this version of you get stuck in an unending desert. He'd make it up to you. Find a voice to say what needed to be said.

        He steps towards the other. Long mask, long face, you don't quite know what to mentally call him yet- steps back. Making room for Phantom to exit the ruin. 

        "I'm not leaving." You tell the newcomer, though you grab the helmet. To throw at him? To cover your head from the cold now that the fire couldn't ward it off? 

        "You dunno if I've found a way out or not and yer just gonna act like that?" His laugh is humorless, "Glad we weren’t a thing in my world."

        Behind him, Phantom jerks his head, a 'come' gesture. Wind, not a breeze, cuts through the dunes and sends winter cold through the cracks in your armor. Settles under the fabric, making you shiver. 

        "Do you have a way out?" You demand.

        "Would'a left your ass behind if I did." He says, stepping further back. Annoyed but understanding you wouldn’t come within a certain distance; despite how fast he could liberate your head from your shoulders. "Come on," he lifts inches off the ground, "the longer you're gone the edgier those shitheads get. I can't take it anymore." 

        You really, really, really did not want to see any of them. You look back to your concrete shack. But. Survival is easier in groups, right? You know what else is easier in groups? Mass murder. The second you got your powers back, you were taking them out like you'd set out to do. Sure, you'd probably only kill one or two more of them but it'd be enough to kill Mark Grayson four times before you went to hell. Only then did eternity of torture sound bearable.

        You also couldn't make a fire, it was freezing, you had no food and you'd be starving soon, and you had nothing to drink but codeine, which was a bad idea. 

       Phantom waited for you on the ground. Tracksuit, ah there's that convenient nickname, hovered low in the sky waiting. "Let's go already." You can't fly and something tells you Tracksuit isn't willing to walk however many miles it is back to camp. 

        Phantom taps his masked cheek. At first you're disgusted, thinking he wants you to lay one on him but realize, he's telling you to put the helmet on. You'd seen those old stories of superhuman and regular-Joe-human romances going bad because their lover flew too fast and all the human's skin was flayed off. You didn't want to go to the others, but you really didn't want to go without skin.

        You put the helmet on and he moves towards you. Slower than the first time he scooped you up and took you to the sky. He definitely felt bad about dropping you. Elbows move under knees, strong hand supporting your back. Lifting off gently this time. Accelerating slowly enough for Tracksuit to scoff and shout, "Dude, move it!"

        You'd never been flying like this. Before, it was too quick to process, too much adrenaline. Now you were burnt out and empty enough to actually process the passing dunes. To feel your body relying on his for support. You would have liked it, really, if it wasn't one of the crazy Marks- which was pretty much all of them. Horrified at any time he'd drop you or dangle you by an ankle until you cried, "Uncle." He hadn't seemed the type, but he also ripped off Psychopomp's arms the second time you met him. He wasn't as forward as the others, which made him less predictable. 

        The whole flight you were scared shitless, because the second it was over, things were only going to get worse. The bright side was, things were always awful before they got better. Thinking about killing Mark calmed you down a fraction.        

        Even in the distance, you could see the camp. No mountains to hide its orange glow. The only thing of note for miles upon miles. 

        Tracksuit sighed with relief, "Thank God." He shot forward, gone, leaving you and Phantom to meander along. You'd noticed he'd significantly slowed. Sucking up all the remaining alone time with you he could get. Hovering hundreds of feet over a massive bonfire. Figures below, waiting with baited breath. 

        Phantom contemplates the success rate of leaving. Running with you. Surviving alone together. His black boots touch down on the sand. He sets you down, keeping a hand at your back as you wobble to your feet. Unaccustomed to flying. Human heart fluttering in your chest.

        You get no peace or relief. 

        Just Mohawk flying forward and almost knocking you over "Dickhead," he hissed before his fist sent Phantom careening into the desert night. Phantom catches himself, but stays further back, hidden in the dark. It was chilly but this planet was nothing compared to the vacuum of space. To what his life had been before seeing you again. The fire, here and there, were for you. Warmth and signal. He would keep watch from the shadows. 

        The perpetrator turns to you, sand stuck in his mohawk. "You good?"

        You don't meet his eye. Opting to stumble closer to the bonfire, trying to avoid eye contact with the Marks standing around.

        "I thought you'd need it," Omni-Wannabe says. 

        "Where are we?" You stare into it. Hoping they don't notice the answers aren't forced out of them. That they don't piece together the only reason you're not going batshit is because you're powerless.

        "A desert," Lensless kicks at the sand, "Duh."

        "What desert?" It's hard to keep the venom out of your voice. 

        Emperor stretches his legs over a rock. Leaning back in his low earthy chair, looking like he meant to be stranded. "You tell me. You're the one who got us trapped here."

        You don't bite the bait. You can't fight back, so opening your big mouth is the last thing you should do. But he's looking at you like he wants to chop you to pieces. You go for fawning but not too out of character. "Wasn't expecting anyone to end up here with me."

        Under the yellow fabric, his brow twitches. "After all the chasing and defending, you didn't expect backup?"

        "I didn't ask for backup." You say, "I have no idea what's going on. One second I'm working, the next this guy," your arm gestures to Mohawk who grins, "is beating the shit out of my boss."

        Emperor's muscles tighten. You'd said the wrong thing. Towed the line too willy-nilly. He says, "You really must be dumber in this world if you haven't figured it out yet. Don't speak to me until you do." And goes back to watching the fire.

        Crisis averted.

        Somebody thinks it's a good idea to rest their fat, meaty hand on your shoulder and say, "Are you okay?"

        When you turn it's the bald one. Wearing an expression you think is concern.

        You can't help moving away and snapping, "Get off." 

        "D'aww, somebody mad their geriatric handler didn't pick them up?" Scars is right behind you. Not close enough to touch, but too close for comfort. He could push you into the fire and you'd be roast dinner. "Not expecting to deal with the consequences of your actions, were you?"

        This time, for real, you hold your tongue. Stuck straight to the roof of your mouth. You are not fucking with this guy.

        He touches you the same place Baldie did. You're scared to shove him off. Baldie was a mistake, one that could've gotten you killed. Scars would be a mistake that would get you killed. 

        "Hey, look, she's afraid of me!" He announced like it was an honor. "That's a smart girl, but where's that fighting spirit? Come on, I wanna see you try n' hurt me again."

        You don't reply. Don't move. Don't breathe. 

        "Your heart just skipped a beat, there, Dregs. Don't tell me you're gonna avoid me by killing yourself again." His fingers tighten on your shoulder. Nearly bruising. "I won't let it happen again." He's masking his anger being here with nine of himself by playing with you. Relieving stress. 

        "You're wasting your energy antagonizing her." The grip lightens immediately, someone else to play with. Scars' violent attention turned toward the bare baby-faced version of himself. 

        "You telling me what to do?" Tension cracked off his split lip.        

        "No." The other says evenly, "But we're stuck in an alien desert. Now's not the time to pull some master-slave dynamic bullshit on some girl you don't even know. Be smart."

        Scars slipped around you, prowling toward the sat man. "And how do you suggest I 'be smart'." 

        He started counting off on his fingers, "Get more firewood if you don't want her to freeze to death. Search ruins for something that could get us out. Look for food. Rest, conserve energy, because we don't know how long we'll be stuck here. My guess is until we get ourselves out because there's no way Angstrom is coming back for us."

        "He will," Lensless says with unwarranted confidence. "He has to know we'll find him and kill 'im. It's dumber to let us be mad n' stuff."        

        Maskless shakes his head. "He chose this planet because he expects us to die. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not fighting you guys over some human I don't know. If you're smart, you'll do the same." He slides off the rock and lies himself sideways in the sand. Head propped on his elbow like a pillow. "At least shut up or go to sleep so you can kill echother quicker tomorrow."

        Scars took two steps toward him before an arm jutted out, stopping him. Omni-Mark stood between the two like a wall. "He's right. We should sleep while it's cool. Search more tomorrow."

        "Who said you're in charge?" Emperor snipped despite being deeply unhelpful.

        "I'm not trying to be," he said, "it's just a suggestion."

        One you take. Moving away to the other side of the blaze while their bickering went on and on. You sat on a rusted pipe. Maskless a few feet to your right, brow furrowed but eyes closed. The Viltrumite to your left, arms folded behind his back. Posture painfully straight. His eyes flick over to you, head not moving. 

        You don't see it, but he's content with the situation at hand- for now. He could take the others. Savvy enough to survive in the harshest conditions where the others surely weren't. He'd conquered harsher planets than this without help. Atop of all that, you were choosing to be by his side. That is enough for him, for the moment.

[my-castles-crumbling]

denial - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 285 - cw: vague reference to a drinking problem, but not anything detailed or relevant to the story

"Regulus, we need to talk," Pandora says seriously, eyes full of gentle concern.

"What the fuck is this?" he sneers, taking in the circle of chairs, all of his friends sitting in them. Remus, Barty, Evan, Dorcas, Pandora, Emmeline, Sirius even McKinnon and Pettigrew are there. "Is this like one of those stupid Muggle interventions?" He says it as a joke, but nobody laughs.

"Have a seat," Sirius says importantly, gesturing to the chair next to himself, and numbly, Regulus sits.

"I-I don't even drink that-" he starts to protest, truly questioning if he has a problem, but Remus interrupts.

"We're not here about that, Regulus. We're here about something else." The older boy's eyes are warm.

"Well, what the bloody hell is it then?" Regulus asks, genuinely confused.

"You and Potter. It's getting ridiculous," Barty bursts out, earning a strict look from Dorcas.

But Regulus just turns red. "I-what?" he stammers. He and James have been hanging out together lately, sure, but...

"You're clearly in love, and you're both too stupid to see it. We've given you three months, and neither of you are the wiser. So we picked the lesser of the two idiots, you, and we're here to knock some sense into you," McKinnon shrugs.

"We're not in love!" Regulus nearly-yells, mouth falling open.

But most of the circle just laughs, and Regulus wants to scream.

"Alright, Reg. You made us do this," Evan warns.

And then, to his horror, Evan pulls out a small black journal, which he knows had hundreds of poems. About James.

"Get your head out of your arse, or we read them to the circle," Barty says pleasantly.

And suddenly, he can live in denial no longer.

[fayelero]

— FAV HQ BOYS WITH THIS TREND !

pr : timeskip!bokuto x fem!reader; timeskip!suna x fem!reader; timeskip!kageyama x fem!reader; nekoma!kuroo x fem!reader; timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader.

syn : you show your boyfriend a trending photo pose. After some playful banter, you both decide to try recreating the pose.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

wc : 3.5k

tw : no noya and kenma :(( suggestive talks and ends, fluff ! credit pic : srkork on insta

— BOKUTO KOTARO

The lazy Sunday afternoon stretched out before us like a cat in a sunbeam. Outside, the world was alive with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of neighbors enjoying the warm weather. But inside our cozy apartment, time seemed to slow to a delicious crawl.

Bokuto Koutarou and I were sprawled across our bed, a tangle of limbs and laughter. The late afternoon sun filtered through our fluttering curtains, painting everything in a soft, golden glow. It caught in Bokuto's wild silver hair, making it shine like a haphazard halo. I couldn't help but marvel at how even in this state of complete relaxation, he managed to look like he'd just stepped off a volleyball court – his muscular arm draped over my waist, a reminder of the power coiled within his laid-back frame.

We'd spent the morning in a whirlwind of activity – a impromptu volleyball match with friends that had turned into a picnic, which had then evolved into a competitive round of frisbee. By the time we made it home, we were pleasantly exhausted, content to lounge in comfortable silence.

Now, we were both absorbed in our phones, sharing the occasional meme or funny video. Bokuto's laughter, when it erupted, was like a sudden thunderclap – loud, infectious, and impossible to ignore. It never failed to make me smile, even when I had no idea what had tickled him so.

I was idly scrolling through Pinterest, looking for new recipe ideas (though knowing full well that Bokuto would eat anything I put in front of him with the same enthusiastic gusto), when a particular image caught my eye. It was edgy, provocative, and unlike anything we'd ever tried before.

"Bo," I said, gently nudging his ribs with my elbow. "look at this. It's pretty nice."

He rolled over, nearly crushing me in the process, his golden eyes bright with curiosity. "What's up, babe? Found another cute owl video?"

I shook my head, angling my phone so he could see the screen. "Nah, it's this new photo trend. Check it out."

The image showed a couple taking a selfie, but with a twist. The guy had his arm around the girl's neck, pretending to choke her in what was meant to be an sexy, edgy pose. It was provocative, to say the least.

Bokuto's eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his messy fringe. "Whoa, hold up! Is he trying to choke her or something? That's...weird!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. You could see the confusion on his face. Bokuto was usually up for anything, but this clearly threw him for a loop. "No, no, it's not real choking," you explained. "It's just for the picture, to make it look sexy and l possessive."

He scratched his head, his expression a mix of bewilderment and amusement. "I dunno, baby… It looks kinda weird. What if I really choke you with those strong arms of mine?"

You turned to face him, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come onnnn, Bo. You could look sexy and scary! You're like a big, cuddly owl."

He puffed out his chest, trying to look offended but failing miserably. "Hey! I can be sexy and scary when I want to be!"

You laughed, poking his cheek. "Sure you can, tough guy. So, do it for me!"

Bokuto's face scrunched up in thought for a moment before breaking into a grin. "Alright, let's do it baby! But if i choke you, we're deleting it and I’m killing myself, okay?"

You grinned back, relieved. "Deal. And hey, if it doesn't work out, do not kill urself please, Bo."

"If you ask!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "But even if you have the picture don’t post it!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "Of course I won’t, Bo. Let's start with this and see how it goes."

After your initial attempt, you had an idea. "Hey Bo, let's try using the mirror length for the picture.”

Bokuto's eyes lit up. "Ooh, yeah! We can see more of us that way!"

You scrambled off the bed and positioned yourselves in front of the mirror. It was then that you really noticed what Bokuto was wearing - one of his compression shirts that he usually wore for volleyball practice. The tight black fabric clung to every contour of his muscular torso, accentuating his broad shoulders and defined chest.

You couldn't help but stare for a moment. Even after all this time, the sight of him like this still made your heart race. "Uh, Bo? Have you always looked this good in that shirt?"

He glanced down at himself, then back at you with a mischievous grin. "Oh? Like what you see, huh?"

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Maybe. Just a little."

Bokuto flexed playfully, striking a pose. "Well, I did just finish a workout this morning. Gotta keep in shape for my number one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, muscles, let's focus on the photo. Same pose as the pic?"

He nodded, moving behind you and wrapping his arm around your neck. This time, you could feel the warmth of his chest against my back, the firm pressure of his muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was... distracting, to say the least.

"Ready?"You asked, trying to keep my voice steady as you held up your phone.

"Ready!" Bokuto replied, his breath tickling your ear.

You snapped the picture, capturing your reflection in the mirror. Bokuto's arm was around your neck, his intense "game face" expression in full effect. But what really stood out was the contrast between you both - his powerful, athletic frame in that form-fitting shirt, next to your smaller figure.

As soon as the picture was taken, Bokuto's serious expression melted into a grin. He peered over your shoulder at the phone screen. "Wow! We look good, don't we?"

You nodded, a little breathless. "Yeah, we do. Especially you in that shirt. Maybe you should wear it more often."

Bokuto's grin widened. "Oh? I thought you liked my owl-print t-shirts better…"

You turned in his arms, looking up at him. "Let's just say both have their merits! But right now, I'm definitely appreciating this one."

You handed him the phone to show him the photo you took. his eyes opened wider and he felt quite aroused by the photo of you surrounded by his arm. “w-wow, you turn me on…”

But he tried to get over it and leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "Noted. So, another picture, or...?"

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think we've got enough pictures for now. How about we find something else to do…?"

Bokuto's golden eyes sparkled with mischief. "I might have a few ideas…"

As he leaned in for a kiss you chuckled into it…

— SUNA RINTAROU

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining bright outside, and a cool breeze was blowing. In your room, everything felt slow and peaceful. It was the kind of quiet that feels good when you're with someone you really like.

Suna, your boyfriend, was lying on your bed, looking relaxed. His eyes were half-closed as he looked at his phone. The sun made his face look nice, showing off his sharp jaw and the small smile on his lips. You couldn't help but stare a little.

You were both doing your own thing, but still felt close. Sometimes Suna would laugh at something on his phone, or you'd say something small. It felt nice and normal. In these quiet times, you felt closest to Suna. He looked softer than usual, and you could see how much he cared even if he didn't say it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"baby," you said, breaking the comfortable silence. "look at this."

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His eyes, usually half-lidded, showed a flicker of interest. "What's up?"

You showed him the picture on your phone - a couple doing the possessive choking pose with the muscular arm for a selfie. "It's this new photo trend. Kind of sexy, don't you think?"

Suna's eyebrows raised slightly, the most expression you'd seen from him all afternoon. "Huh? Interesting choice for a couples photo…"

You could see the wheels turning in his head as he analyzed the image. Suna was always observant, probably already picking up on details you'd missed.

"Wanna try it?" you asked, a hint of challenge in your voice.

He looked at you, then back at the phone, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You sure about that? I don't think you could pull off the 'dramatically choked' look. You'd probably start laughing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. He knew you too well. "Oh, c’mon. I can be serious when I want to be!"

Suna sat up, his movements fluid and graceful. "Alright, let's see it then. Your ‘serious’ face."

You tried your best to look serious and dramatic, but you could feel your lips twitching, fighting back a smile.

Suna's smirk grew wider. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Very intimidating."

You grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he easily dodged. "It’s your fault, your face makes me laugh! How about you show me how it's done?"

He shrugged, but you could see a glimmer of competitive spirit in his eyes. "Well thanks…” he sighed and raised his eyebrows ”And sure, why not. Could be interesting."

You positioned yourselves in front of the mirror. Suna stood behind you, his arm loosely draped around your neck. Even in this silly pose, you could feel the quiet strength in his lean muscles.

"Ready?" you asked, holding up your phone.

Suna nodded, his face transforming into an intense, focused expression that you usually only saw during volleyball matches. It was almost unnerving how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture, capturing your reflection. Suna's intense muscular arm bore into the camera, a stark contrast to your slightly flustered expression.

As soon as the picture was taken, Suna's arm relaxed back into its usual demeanor. He peered at the phone screen over your shoulder.

"Not bad," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Though I think we just proved my point about your serious face, baby."

You elbowed him gently in the ribs. "shut up. Not everyone can go from zero to intimidating in half a second like you."

He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. "It's a gift," he deadpanned, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

You leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "So, what do you think? Should we post it?"

Suna was quiet for a moment, considering. "Nah," he finally said. "Let's keep this one just for us. It's more sexy that way."

You smiled, turning in his arms to face him. "You know, for someone who acts so aloof, you can be pretty sweet sometimes."

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the faint blush on his cheeks. "Don't go spreading that around. I have a reputation to maintain. And look at you in my so-muscular arm…"

As you leaned in to kiss him, “I look pretty hot like that…”

— TOBIO KAGEYAMA

It was a rare day off from volleyball practice. You and Tobio were in your living room, trying to relax. The TV was on, playing a volleyball match, but neither of you was really watching. Tobio sat on the couch, his posture a bit stiff, eyes darting between his phone and the TV screen.

"baby," you said, gently nudging his arm. "look at this."

He turned to you, his intense blue eyes focusing. "What is it?"

You showed him your phone screen - a picture of a couple doing the possessive choking pose for a selfie. "It's a new photo trend. Kind of sexy, right?"

Tobio's brow furrowed as he stared at the image. "Why would anyone want a picture like that?" he asked bluntly.

You couldn't help but smile at his typical straightforward response. "I guess some people think it looks sexy or possessive, like me. Want to try it? Just for fun?"

He looked confused for a moment. "Is this important to you?"

"Noooo," you admitted. "I just thought it might be fun to see how it turns out. Be please baby!"

Tobio hesitated, then nodded with a sigh. "Okay. If it'll make you happy..."

You both stood up and moved in front of the mirror. Tobio proudly put his muscular arm around your neck, and started flexing to show off his muscles, which made you chuckle a bit.

"Tobio, can you hold less tight," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice. "I know already how you are muscular, don’t worry baby."

He adjusted his grip slightly, his face a mix of concentration and redness. "L-like this?"

"Perfect. Now pose for me, baby."

Tobio's expression immediately changed to his game face - eyes sharp and focused, jaw set. It was almost scary how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture quickly. As soon as it was done, Tobio dropped his arm and stepped back, looking relieved.

Looking at the photo, you couldn't help but chuckle. Tobio's intense muscular and flexed arm next to your slightly amused smile was quite a sight.

"What's so funny?" Tobio asked, peering at the screen while chuckling.

"Just us, baby," you said, still smiling. "We look so serious. It's kind of sexy actually, don't you think?"

Tobio's cheeks turned slightly pink. "It's... different," he mumbled. "But I like how you are in my arm like that..."

You felt a warmth in your chest at his honesty. "Me too, baby. How about we take a nice, cozy pic now?"

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Okay. But no more weird poses."

As you cuddled up to take a regular selfie, you kissed his cheek “I love you, Tobio.”

— KUROO TETSURO

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon at training camp. You were sitting on the grass outside the gym, enjoying a brief respite from the intense volleyball practices. Kuroo sauntered over, his trademark messy hair even more disheveled than usual, and flopped down beside you with a dramatic sigh.

"Exhausted already, captain?" you teased, poking his side.

He flashed you his signature smirk. "Me? Never. Just giving the others a chance to catch up."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. Hey, check this out."

You showed him your phone screen - a picture of a couple doing the possessive choking pose for a selfie. "It's some new photo trend. Pretty hot, huh?"

Kuroo's eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh? Trying to tell me something, kitten? Didn't know you were into that kind of thing..."

You felt your cheeks heat up as he leaned close to your face, brushing your lips with his at the end of his sentence. "Tetsu! It's not like that. It's just supposed to be…artistic or whatever."

He chuckled, leaning in closer. "Relax, I'm just teasing. Though I gotta say, it does look nice for us. Wanna try?"

You blinked, surprised by his enthusiasm. "Really? You don't think it's too weird?"

Kuroo shrugged, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Hey, I'm always up for trying new things with you! Plus, it could be fun to mess with the team later."

You couldn't help but laugh. "You're impossible. Alright, let's do it and my arm is muscular, I could show you..."

You both stood up and moved to a nearby wall. Kuroo positioned himself behind you, his flexed arm draped around your neck. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back, and it was... distracting, to say the least.

"Ready?" he murmured, his breath tickling your ear when he leaned down just to adjust right after.

You nodded, trying to keep your composure as you held up your phone. "Okay, try to look hot."

“Try?? I don’t even need to try!” He acted offended. Kuroo's expression immediately transformed into his focused game face, the one that always sent shivers down opponents' spines. It was almost unnerving how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture, then turned in Kuroo's arms to look at it together. The contrast between his muscular arm and your slightly flustered expression was striking.

"Well, well," Kuroo said, his voice low and teasing. "Looks like my arm is so hot, don't you think? Though I gotta say, you look hot under the collar there, kitten. Was it something I did?"

You elbowed him gently, but couldn't help smiling. "Oh, shut up. You're such a tease."

He laughed, pulling you closer. "You love it though, admit it, baby."

You leaned into him, enjoying his warmth. "Maybe. But don't let it go to your head. It's big enough as it is."

Kuroo gasped in mock offense. "My head is perfectly proportional, thank you very much. Anyway, now I can show to everyone that you’re mine…"

He kissed your lips with hunger, but you pushed him back gently. “Not here…”

He took your hand and brings you up, the silly photo forgotten for the moment.

— ATSUMU MIYA

The MSBY Black Jackals' training facility was quieter than usual, the usual squeaks of shoes on polished floors and the thunderous impacts of spikes replaced by a lazy afternoon lull. Most of the team had already left for the day, their energy spent on grueling drills and practice matches. The air still held a faint scent of sweat, mingled with the sharp tang of air salonpas.

You had been waiting for what felt like hours, alternating between watching Atsumu's extra practice through the gym windows of the lounge area and idly scrolling through your phone. It was a familiar routine - Atsumu pushing himself just a little further, always chasing that perfect set, while you patiently waited, a silent pillar of support. The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the lounge area where you sat, when you finally heard the telltale sound of the gym doors opening and Atsumu's distinctive footsteps approaching.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Oi, still hanging around?" he called out, a smirk playing on his lips.

You looked up, matching his smirk. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't overwork yourself, the Pro Athlete."

Walking behind you to give you a shoulder massage for a few seconds and kiss you on the mouth from behind, he stopped by to sit on the sofa in the lounge next to you to cuddle slightly.

Atsumu plopped down next to you, peering at your phone. "Whatcha looking at? Better not be Tobio-kun's serves again."

You snorted. "As if. No, look at this trend."

You showed him the picture of the couple doing the possessive choking pose. Atsumu's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, ain't that something," he drawled. "People really do anything for likes these days, huh?"

"Says the guy who spent an hour perfecting his hair for his official team photo," you retorted.

Atsumu clutched his chest in mock hurt. "Your wounds cut deep, ya know that?"

You laughed, then had an idea. "Hey, we should try it."

"Try what? You wanna make out here, huh?" Atsumu looked skeptical but was ready to jump on you if you nodded, which you didn’t.

"The pose, dummy. Could be funny."

Atsumu's eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh? You want me to manhandle you for the 'gram? Kinky."

You felt your face heat up as you gently push his head of your shoulder to face him. "Shut up, 'Tsumu. You in or not?"

"'Course I'm in. Can't let my baby down, can I?"

You both stood up, moving to a clear wall. Atsumu positioned himself behind you, his flexed arm tight around your neck.

"Ready when you are, darlin'," he murmured close to your ear.

You suppressed a shiver. "Okay, press."

Atsumu's arm pressed your cheeks and flexed his muscles. You snapped the picture quickly before you could faint from blushing.

Looking at it together, you couldn't help but laugh. "We look ridiculous."

"Speak for yerself," Atsumu retorted. "I look dashingly hot."

You elbowed him playfully. "Your ego is showing, 'Tsumu."

He grinned, pulling you closer. "Ya love it though."

As you leaned into him, he carried you like a princess to the lounge sofa: he had locked the door…

pic :

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[rcmclachlan]

For the wip title game: post-doheny park alt meeting?

I should've mentioned this in the previous one, but I started writing this one before the S8 premiere. Then 8x06 sucked all the fun out of it and I ended up leaving it alone for a while, but since everything's made up and the points don't matter, it's so back baybeeeee!

The call picks up on the third ring and a friendly voice carols over the speaker, "Thank you for calling Kinard Air: We're not happy 'til you're not happy. This is Tommy speaking, how may I help you?"

"You really thought you could just dine and dash on us, Kinard?" Hen asks with the tone of someone who is incredibly offended. It's ruined by how hard she's grinning.

Bobby's turnouts squeak as he twists around in his seat, a startled smile curving his mouth and his eyebrows practically kissing his hairline. It seems like of all the voices in the world that could've come out of Hen's phone, he hadn't been expecting that one.

Buck throws Eddie a glance in askance, but all he gets back is a confused shrug.

The speaker crackles a little under the force of the guy's laugh, which is so infectious that a smile unexpectedly erupts on Buck's face. Some people are just like that. Maddie's one of those people: if she's smiling, so is everyone else around her.

"I think that was more of a deluge and dash," Tommy Kinard says cheerfully. "Did it do the trick? I dumped the whole payload, but there are a bunch of ingrounds below me if you need me to swing back for another go. I don't mind ruining Ashley Baxter's pool party for the greater good."

"Ashley Baxter?"

Hen swats at Buck's face when he crowds in close to hear better. He shrugs at the side-eye she gives him. Her friend just saved their asses and he sounds like a really cool guy, plus his voice is making something ping pleasantly in Buck's brain, the way a radio DJ with a deep register does sometimes. Maybe he's got a podcast.

"My least favorite teammate's kid, who's been whining all week about wanting her 13th birthday to go viral. I think I can help her out."

wip titles game

[bewitched-hours]

I'M THE ANON FROM EARLIER seems like my request didnt send 💔 BUT!! i had an screenshot of it js in case so we good!!! (i hope this sends give me a signal if it does/j)

well, may i ask for an elliot x gender neutral reader.... they are a sentinel, and they like to act like a 'hero' of some sorts.... like, they save and protect other survivors and are all confident and loud about it (in a silly way!!).... and they are also slightly quixotic, talk in an animated or exaggerated way etc etc ^_^

but after meeting elliot (and maybe getting a crush on him), they like to especially protect elliot and act as their knight in shining armor (maybe even exclaiming it out loud), going even to the point of bridal carrying him to safety blelelele. thats just their way of showing love ok (bonus points if it ends on some sort of love confession and a happy ending and whimsy and joy and silliness and)

I KNOW THIS IS ABSURD take your time and feel free to deny !!!! thank you!!!! have a nice day!!! 🥹

Awww, that's adorable! More love for our pizza boy-

Reader's gonna get They/Them as requested~

You were always quite... Confident...

From the moment you spawned into this cabin, you'd pride yourself in your role as a sentinel so you could protect the other survivors. ALL of them.

But Elliot? Yeah, that's your pizza boy.

At first it was just special attention towards all supports because hey, what're you gonna do without them?

But it didn't take long for his kindness to draw you in and allow the two of you to get close... Too close...

That's to say... You got a massive crush on the guy...

Hell, you often acted like a protective dog but called it 'Knight in shining armour' to impress Elliot.

He wasn't. You were just a bit extra but he appreciated your help and worked on getting you to be more than just a protector.

He wanted you to be a person and it didn't take much to convince you to be more open. Just some soft words and you cracked completely.

Sometimes you even caught yourself staring at him with admiration written on your face. Everyone but him could see it.

You were head over heels for Elliot and although he made you think you hid it well, the other survivors could see it in the way you acted. They even tried teasing you about it but you'd play oblivious and tell them they were all crazy if they thought you were treating anyone differently.

But you were... And you weren't slick...

Admittedly, Elliot was also pretty in love with you. He just showed it in subtle enough ways that you deluded yourself into taking it as friendly gestures... Unrealistically...

The others were pretty much done with it and just waited for either of you to make it official, since they already told both of you separately that this realm wouldn't allow for much hesitation.

Elliot turned out to be the one to speak up first.

It started with him asking you to stay after dinner to 'hang out' and you were happy to say yes, oblivious- or maybe ignorant- of the situation.

Everyone else went back to their cabins by the time you both sat on the couch and enjoyed a comfortable silence, ruined only by a familiar smell and the ringing of a small alarm in the kitchen.

Elliot confused you with his plan but you were pleasantly surprised to have a heart-shaped pizza set down in front of you.

"I was hoping you'd have more appetite after dinner so we could share it..." The softness in his voice could melt you as the gears in your head turned and clicked the puzzle together correctly for once.

You gave him a flustered and shocked look as you stammered over your words.

"This- you mean- We're-" You couldn't believe it. But it was all real and Elliot holding your hand just made your heart race.

"I figured you probably felt the same but I needed to make sure... And I'm hoping you'll be open to-" He was going to say more until you practically tackled him in a hug and peppered his face in kisses.

His flushed expression was so adorable but you had no doubt you had the same shade of red on your face. "No take-backs! You're gonna be my wonderful boyfriend and I'll protect you even more now!" You practically announced, hearing him chuckle and give you some kisses in return.

"Let's at least eat the pizza before it gets cold and then maybe we could share a cabin together...?"

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[this-acuteneurosis]

I just found Don't look back (and first of all I love it, you are brilliant, I am barely finished the first fic but I am invested) and I spent some time digging through your tumbler for mentions of obi-wan/leia....because from these beginning interactions I have sense something and I am now invested and kinda confused????

Was this intentional...? Is this going somewhere...? There are no tags for their relationship but by other asks I see on your blog I'm not alone in this thinking.....

I hope she finds happiness. In the beginning I was hoping for some warped way for Han to join her because I love them together so much, but I also do love obi-wan and I am pleasantly hooked on their relationship now

I've answered asks similar to this before, but I keep getting them and we're far enough into the story that I think I can say some things more certainly without spoiling anything, or the plot magically changing on me. So here we go.

So. Like Fire in Our Bones. Leia and Obi-Wan meet for the first time, and I was happy with the scene, and then I posted the chapter and a whole mess of people popped out of the ground were like, "Romance?!?!?!" Keep in mind that this was before the Kenobi show was released as well, so we had no canon where Leia knew Obi-Wan as a child. DLB runs under that assumption.

So I was all, "Oh, surprise," but I'm a very ship and let ship sort of person, and once people pointed it out, I was like, yeah. Sure. They can have this vibe. They would, honestly. I've got a pretty strong head canon that Obi-Wan has been flirting to survive for decades at this point, and Leia is socially savvy enough to roll with that kind of behavior as long as it's not distasteful. She also saves him, and they bond, and I don't have a problem with people reading into that. I think it's reasonable. It's pretty textual at this point.

HOWEVER.

Once upon a time I also thought this story would be 200k words, max. I thought Leia would end the series having reconciled that Anakin wasn't Vader, but wouldn't be close to him. I though Satine would never make an appearance and Cody would be the first clone to like Leia instead of the last, and yeah. A lot of things started changing once I was actually writing the story.

At the beginning of the story, I knew I didn't want to write Leia a romance. A) because I wasn't sure who it should be with and, B) that was way past the where I expected her to be healing wise in her grief. But the story kept getting longer and she and Obi-Wan kept having moments, and I was like, I mean...maybe? Maybe something happens? I can't say no for sure anymore.

BUT!

We're far enough into the story now and I have a much better sense of how this last arc is going to handle the remaining grief Leia is dealing with, and also how much time she'll spend with Obi-Wan. I have no intention of doing a romance for her in this arc. Look how long it took me to get Anakin and Padmé together. We do not have time for that. So I've left Leia with no romantic pairing tags. Officially, the story will not be about her having a committed, happy, healing romantic relationship at this point. It will be about what it always was: cooperation and unity beating back the darkness, and how you have to fight for those things so you don't lose them when you need them most.

But if it makes your heart happy to imagine that all the remaining scenes with her and Obi-Wan are a prelude to something that happens later, feel free to enjoy them that way. Write as much of your own fic or draw as much of your own art as you want. Feel free to share it with me too. I've enjoyed reading the other divergent fics people have done of this story.

Just everyone, please be nice to each other. :)

[fanfictiongirlie]

Twilight: The Human and the Wolf Chapter Four

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x OC (First person, no use of Y/N)

Description: Bella Swan's twin moved to Forks with her sister. Whilst Bella falls for a vampire, her twin falls for a wolf. The story runs parallel to Bella's story in Twilight. But following her twin and her life with the wolves.

Rating: Eventually explicit.

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter.

Chapter Four - La Push Baby

The next day it was Friday and I couldn't be more excited for the weekend. Bella and I walked to the cafeteria after our one shared class and made our way to our little group.  

"La Push baby, you in?" Eric asks.

"Should I know what that means?" Bella asks confused. 

"La Push, it's where Jacob lives" I answer quickly. 

Eric explains the plan for whale watching and surfing tomorrow. 

"Oh definitely, I'll be there" I answer grinning, Bella didn't look convinced though. 

"Oh come on Bells, it'll be fun!" I say trying to convince her. 

"It's La Push baby, La Push" Eric says, making us all laugh. 

"Okay I'll go if you stop saying that" Bella grins, finally agreeing to come. I take a sit at the table whilst she walks off to the salad cart. I take my sandwich from my bag and start eating, I listen to the conversations around me, and let my eyes wander. I look over to Bella, and frown seeing that Edward was standing by her. They were chatting, it looked intense, it worried me. 

The others noticed too, all finding it weird, I was glad they didn't trust Edward either. 

After chatting to Edward for a short while Bella came back to us, she sat by me, I cocked my head slightly, silently questioning what that was about.

"I invited him to La Push, but he said no" She explained. 

"I'm glad he said no, Cullens are weird" I answer, feeling a little mean, but it was the truth. Bella rolls her eyes at me. I smiled sweetly and went back to my sandwich, overwhelmingly happy Edward Cullen wouldn't be joining us at La Push beach. 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Finally it was the weekend, and we were all at La Push beach, I sat alone on the rocks whilst I watched Bella walk off with Jacob and the others surfed or sat in the cars whale watching too cold to leave the cars. I decided to come sit at the rocks closer to the trees of the forest and enjoy the view. The waves were strong as they crashed, the air was crisp and cold and the sky grey. I was never one to dislike weather like this. I enjoyed the tranquility of the moment. 

But then a voice broke me from my deep thoughts. I looked up to see who had said hello to me. Seeing Paul stand behind me, his hair was tied in a loose ponytail, his clothes looked warm and baggy. He looked, rugged, and I was enjoying the view. 

"Long time no see" I smile sweetly. 

He stepped a little closer to me, he looked like he had been running through the forest maybe. 

"Long time no see indeed, enjoying the beach today?" He asked. 

"Yep! It's nice down here, join me" I say patting the rock next to me. He seemed pleasantly surprised by my invitation, he sits down next to me on the rock, shifting so he faced me. 

"It's been a while since we talking, huh?" He asks. 

"Yeah.." I muse, thinking over the five minute conversation we had months ago. "Five minutes of talking and that was its"

"Yeah I guess we're practically old friends now, huh? Five minutes of talking under our belts and all that" He grins, his light-hearted banter making me giggle softly. 

"That's all it takes to be old friends...what happens if we have a ten minute conversation?" I ask, continuing his banter. His grin widens. 

"A ten minute conversation? Woah, now that's serious. If we hit that level, we might as well start planning our wedding" He answers, his eyes on mine and his smile wide. It made me feel dizzy honestly. 

"Well we're already at the beach...beach wedding!" He laughs at my joke, clearly enjoying the banter. 

"Absolutely. We've got the location, the mood, the vibes. Now all we need it the fancy clothes and the vows" He adds, laughing slightly. 

"You're funny Paul...You know that" I say, a soft smile on my lips as I let my eyes trail over his facial features. He looked very pleased with my compliment. 

"Thanks, I try my best" He says giving me a lopsided smile, a hint of flirting in his tone. 

"Do you wanna go to my prom with me?" I ask suddenly, the bluntness even surprising myself. He looked a bit taken aback by the sudden change of topic, but recovers quickly, a smile on his face. 

"Prom? You're asking me to prom?" He laughs a little as he asks. 

"Yeah, you're funny. I like funny" I smile "It's okay if you don't want too"

"Whoa hold on a second" He says a small smirk on his lips "Who said I didn't want to go? I just didn't expect such a direct invitation, that's all. But sure, why not? I'd love to go to prom with you"

"Cool" I say quietly, my cheeks flushing slightly, luckily the cold made my cheeks already, so I had hoped he hadn't noticed. 

"Looking a bit flushed there, are you blushing?" He asks. 

"Oh shut up, I'm just a girl" I answer, giggling a little as I looked at him. "So Paul, tell me about you"

And with that we spent the afternoon talking, it had been hours and we hadn't stopped, it felt so easy talking to him. We had made plans to spend more time together before prom too. 

After many hours, Bella called me over saying it was time to head home, I cursed slightly, I hadn't brought my car today I was relying on a lift from others. Before leaving Paul I gave him my home number, so he could call me. 

"Call me okay?" I asked again, hoping I didn't sound too desperate.

"Oh I'll definitely call you" He grins. And I leave him heading back to the cars with Bella. I sat in the back of Angela's car with Jess on one side of me and Bella the other. I turned to Bella and whispered. 

"Guess what"

She looked at me expectantly. 

"I asked Paul to prom" I said quietly not wanting the others to hear, but they probably did. 

"Oh that's good, I'm happy for you" Bella answers. 

"Me too, he's so cute!" I say a little wistfully. 

"Is it love already?" She asks teasingly. I shake my head and laugh a little. 

"Don't be ridiculous Bells"

"Hey, you're the one who's got a grin plastered on your face and is talking about how cute he is. Sounds pretty love-struck to me" 

"You and your romance books Bella, they're making you think love happens in three seconds" I tease. 

Once we got home Bella went straight upstairs saying she had homework to do, I found it a little strange because I knew for a fact she finished her homework last night. I brushed it off and sat on the couch near my dad, but also near the phone. 

"Expecting a call kiddo?" He asks. 

"I am, actually!"

My dad raised an eye slightly. 

"Let me guess? A boy has you waiting looking all love struck?"

"Yes, his name is Paul, I'm actually going to prom with him" I explained. 

Charlie and I chatted for a little while longer, I told him all about Paul, and our conversations from today. The phone hadn't rung yet and I was starting to get worried he wouldn't call. 

"You know, the phone's not gonna ring any faster if you keep staring at it like that" Charlie says. 

"I can hope" I reply quietly. 

Finally a few hours later the phone rang, I grabbed it and rushed to the kitchen wanting a little privacy and I answered it. 

"Hey Paul" I say into the phone, hoping it was actually him. 

Paul's voice comes through the phone, his cheerful tone instantly recognisable. 

"Hey! I'm glad you answered"

"I'm glad you called" I answered playfully. Paul laughs a little down the phone, clearly amused. 

"Well, I couldn't leave you waiting forever, now could I? Besides, I promised I'd call, so here I am" 

We spent a few hours chatting until Charlie tells me it was 1am and I needed to go to bed. I chuckled softly on the phone. 

"Goodnight Paul"

"Sweet dreams" He responded, and we put the phone down. I walked up to my room, grinning like an idiot, falling asleep with that same grin. 

Taglist:

@jaybbygrl

[giannan04]

Hiii, can you please write a Yandere San X reader fanfic? Maybe where he’s her therapist and he gets her to break up with her bf because he’s been obsessed with her? 🙏🏽make it dark pleaseee? Tyy in advance

Thanks for the request!💕🫶🏻I hope you like it, I tried to fit everything in the best I could 🥹🫶🏻I hope it’s dark enough for you 👀

-

Pairing: Therapist Yandere! Choi San x afab! Reader, Mention of Jung Wooyoung X afab! Reader

Genre: Yandere; thriller

Warnings: Manipulation, mentions of a toxic relationship, slight smut, character death, very slight gore.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 🔞

-

Dr. San Choi's reputation preceded him. He was the therapist everyone seemed to swear by. Patients praised his ability to get results where others failed, and he was known for treating some of the most complex mental health cases in the city. When your relationship with Wooyoung started having problems, your best friend Mingi suggested therapy. You were hesitant at first, but when he specifically recommended Dr. Choi, someone who had worked wonders for him, you decided to give it a try.

“Trust me, San’s the real deal,” Mingi said, leaning in with that serious look he gets when he really means something. “He helped me when I was going through one of the darkest periods in my life. If anyone’s gonna help you figure out what’s going on, it’s him.”

That’s how you found yourself meeting with San in his warmly lit office multiple times a week. From the start, Dr.Choi had a way of making you feel truly heard, like every word you said mattered. He never rushed through sessions and even went as far as canceling other appointments just so you could have more time when you needed it. He never told you that you were wrong, no matter how messy or complicated your relationship issues sounded. Instead, he listened with that same calm, reassuring expression that made you feel understood and validated. Over time, he even gave you his home address, offering to meet there if you ever needed to talk outside of office hours. You didn’t think much of it—you just figured he was incredibly dedicated to his work and to helping you through this tough time.

Over the weeks, San subtly guided you into believing that your relationship was toxic, that Wooyoung was holding you back. He never said it outright; instead, he asked questions that made you second-guess everything. "Do you feel like you're truly happy?" he'd ask, his voice gentle but insistent. "Sometimes, we stay in situations because we're afraid of being alone, not because they're right for us." Little by little, you found yourself reexamining your relationship with Wooyoung.

San’s advice seemed to play on repeat whenever you fought with Wooyoung. The tension between you two had been getting worse for months, with minor disagreements escalating into major arguments. Every time you argued with Wooyoung, you couldn’t shake the feeling that San’s words were right there with you. Even though part of you still hoped things could improve, the truth was hard to ignore: deep down, you knew San was right, there was no saving your relationship. It felt like there was no way to fix what had become broken, despite your hopes that things could somehow get better.

One night, after another argument left you in tears, you found yourself at San's apartment instead of your own. You needed someone to talk to, and San was the first person you could think of. You had caught Wooyoung with another girl, and you didn’t want to be alone. You needed to let everything out. Your heart was broken, and you know the only person you could talk to was San. You hadn't planned on it, but he'd always offered you to come to his place,and before you knew it, there you were, standing outside his front door.

When San opened the door, pleasantly surprised to see you. His brows furrowed as he glanced at his watch. “Y/N? What happened? It’s almost midnight,” he asked, concern replacing the confusion in his eyes as he noticed that you were sobbing. Tears covered your face, and you were so hurt and anxious that you were shaking. San’s heart broke seeing you like that. Without hesitation, his expression softened, and he gently took your trembling hand. “Come in,” he said, his voice soothing as he pulled you into the safety of his home.

You sat on his couch, trying to hold back more tears as you told him everything—how you found Wooyoung with another girl, how you felt like your relationship was falling apart. San listened intently, never taking his eyes off you, nodding with genuine empathy. When you finished, San leaned in closer, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “You deserve so much better than this, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low and comforting. “You deserve someone who would never even think of hurting you like that. Someone who truly values you.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his words and the way his hand lingered on your face, the soft caress sending a warmth through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. His touch was tender yet firm, making you feel safe; cared for. You haven’t felt that way in a while. You caught your breath as he leaned in just a bit closer, his other hand gently resting on your thigh, as if waiting for your permission. “I can show you what it feels like to be treated right,” he murmured, his gaze darkening with desire. Despite the hesitation you felt at the back of your mind, you couldn’t deny the lust and attraction you felt in that moment. You leaned into his touch, your body responding before your thoughts could catch up.

His lips were dangerously close now, and there was no more space between you. All the tension, all the confusion, all the heartbreak you were feeling—everything faded away as his hands slid further up your skirt, placing his hands on your ass, pulling you into him with a gentle firmness that felt intoxicating. “Let me take care of you, Y/N,” San whispered, his words making your body tingle and heart flutter. And before you could even think to resist, you found yourself nodding, your body betraying you. In your head, you knew this was wrong, but your body felt so right. And you needed, no, deserved to be loved and cared for. It was about damn time.

“I want you, San… I need you. Please, take care of me,” you told him softly, never looking away from his brown almond-shaped eyes. That was all San needed to hear-the very words he had been waiting for since the moment you stepped into his office. San smirked, as he began undressing you with a deliberate slowness, savoring every second. He took in each sight of your beautiful body, pleased that it belonged to him.Before you knew it, he was fucking you right there in his living room, each touch, each kiss, each thrust leaving you wanting more. For the first time in months, Wooyoung and your relationship problems vanished from your mind, replaced by the warm sensation of San's hands on your body, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. The way his dick filled you up, the way he kissed your body was he made love to you.

The only things you were thinking about was how you never wanted San to stop making love to you. And San knew, finally… you belonged to him. San's hands rested possessively on your waist as he thrusted deeper and deeper inside you, your ass slapping against his thighs. You moaned uncontrollably, never wanting him to stop. You wanted to show him he had complete control over you. San’s eyes never left the sight of you, he loved seeing what a slut you could be for him, and how only he could make you feel this way. Smirking, he bent down close to your ear, whispered sweetly to you. "See? You feel it, don't you? How good we are together. You don't need him, Y/N. I'm the one who understands you, who can give you everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. Only I can make you feel this way. You belong to me, and I’m never letting you go."

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the curtains, but the warmth in the living room felt oddly suffocating. You noticed a heavy blanket was draped over your naked body. You must have fallen asleep after what happened last night, so San must’ve brought a blanket out for you. You glanced over and San was still lying beside you, sleeping peacefully. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist. Yawning, you reached for your phone which was on the floor next to you. You unlocked your phone, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when you saw a text from Wooyoung: I know I fucked up. But I love you. And I want us to work on things. I don’t want to lose you. Let me know when you’re ready to talk.

Your heart fluttered with a sense of hope, but before you could respond to the text, you felt San's eyes boring into you. You looked up at him, not realizing how closely he was watching your every move. You didn’t even hear him wake up. His expression remained calm, but the slight clenching of his jaw told you everything. He was furious. He must’ve seen you open the message on your phone when he woke up.

"Oh. Wooyoung texted me. He wants to fix things," you said, a little too eagerly, not noticing the anger settling into San's expression.

San's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"That's... nice," he murmured, though his voice didn’t reflect that. He actually sounded pissed, but you could tell he wasn’t trying to show it. San stood up, wrapping the blanket around him as he walked towards his bedroom. “I have to get dressed. You can stay here as long as you need, Y/N. I actually have to head out for another appointment, but make yourself at home, alright?"

You nodded. “Okay, thank you,” you said sweetly, ignoring the tension.

San drove in silence, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He replayed your excitement over Wooyoung's text in his mind, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. How could you be so blind? After everything he had done to get you away from Wooyoung, after showing you what real love felt like, you still had the nerve to be excited about that cheating scumbag reaching out! Pissed off didn’t even begin to describe how San felt. He was so angry his eyes twitched and his hands shook as he drove. He had to do something, he was about to have you all to himself until that mother fucker sent you that text.

His thoughts darkened further as he arrived at the home you shared with Wooyoung. His plan formed in his mind, making him feel only a little better. He knocked on the door, his face wearing the mask of a friendly, concerned therapist. Really, he was the furious therapist who wanted to fuck somebody up.

Wooyoung opened the door, blinking in surprise. "San? Aren't you YIN's therapist?"

San let out a cheerful laugh. "Yeah, I am! My office is getting renovated, so I thought I'd stop by and see how things are going. I know Y/ N's been having a tough time, and I wanted to touch base."

Wooyoung relaxed slightly, shrugging. "She's not here right now, but come in. We can talk about how she's been doing. Ive been wanting to talk to you, anyway. Maybe you can give me some insight."

San stepped inside, carefully observing every detail of the house, the place where you once tried to build a future with someone who never deserved you. They moved throughout the home and as Wooyoung started talking, San could feel his blood boiling but he knew he had to remain calm. Wooyoung would get what he deserved shortly.

Wooyoung led San into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “Want some?” he asked, holding the bottle up. “No, thank you. I’m just here under professional circumstances” San smiled, watching as Wooyoung shrugged and opened the bottle. “Suit yourself,” he said, taking a sip. San and Wooyoung sat at the table, ready to discuss sessions. Which was what San wanted Wooyoung to think, anyway.

"Ever since she started therapy, it's like she's blowing everything out of proportion.

She's been acting like our problems are way bigger than they actually are, like she's ooking for an excuse to leave. I don't know, man... it feels like she's being pushed into seeing the worst in me." Wooyoung stared long and hard at San.

San's eyes darkened, his smile slipping for just a moment as he watched Wooyoung ramble on. How dare he accuse him of manipulating you? Wooyoung was the one who had been lying to you, hurting you, cheating on you, and who knows what else. Hell, this dick was the whole reason you needed therapy in the first place! And yet here he was, acting like the victim.

"You really think so?" San's voice was low, dangerous. He took a step closer to Wooyoung, who didn't seem to notice the shift in San's tone.

"Yeah, it's like she's-" Wooyoung was cut off by the sudden pressure of San's hand around his neck. Panic flashed in Wooyoung's eyes as he struggled against San’s grip.

“San, what…what the hell are you doing?" Wooyoung croaked, trying to break himself free. He managed to break out of the hold, shoving San back with surprising strength, but San's fury was beyond reason now. The therapist quickly regained control, his movements turning brutal as he rained down punches, each one fueled by the sickening memories of everything Wooyoung had done to hurt you.

"This is for Y/N," San hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes wild as he struck Wooyoung with relentless force. San began to stop on Wooyoung, not caring that his blood was getting thrown into the air.

"For every tear she shed because of you."

Wooyoung's resistance weakened as blood dripped from his split lips and broken nose. San's breaths were ragged as he lifted Wooyoung's head by his hair, glaring into his fading eyes. “Pl-please, man…don’t do this. I love Y/n. I never hurt her that much. Believe me”, Wooyoung tears mixed with the blood covering his face satisfied San beyond reason. “Sorry, but with you gone, Y/n will be happier. If you really loved her, you wouldn’t mind dying.” With a final surge of strength, San twisted his hand, the sickening crack of Wooyoung's neck snapping echoing in the room as he tore his head clean off.

The lifeless expression on Wooyoung's face was frozen in terror as San calmly wiped his hands on a towel he found in the kitchen. The sight of Wooyoung's head dangling by his fingers didn't faze him-in fact, he was feeling a sense of satisfaction

San returned to his apartment, already mentally preparing to tell you to ignore Wooyoung’s text, that he didn’t deserve you. But when he entered his home, he found you pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

"San, I've been thinking... maybe I should give Wooyoung another chance," you blurted out. You didn't notice how San's entire demeanor shifted, his smile growing unnervingly cold.

"Why would you even consider that, Y/N?" San's voice was sharper than you expected, laced with barely-contained fury. You thought your therapist would’ve been happy for you, that you were ready to work things out. “After everything he's put you through, why would you care? Especially after what we did last night."

His words cut through you like ice. You hadn't anticipated such a strong reaction from him. Your face turned bright red and you avoided his gaze. "I... I don't know. I guess I was just confused. I just wanted to feel loved but I’m in love with Wooyoung, and it’s hard to let go of someone you cared about for so long."

San's eyes narrowed, his patience thinning. "You shouldn't have even cared when he texted you. Do you think that was fair to me? Letting me be the one to comfort you, only to get excited over him? And then you let me fuck you-" His words dripped with venom as his eyes blazed with barely-restrained anger. “You’re a worthless whore. Disgusting… I don’t know how I’m even looking at you right now. I shouldn’t have felt bad for you all of those times you came to my office, crying about him. You deserve to be treated like shit!”, his words dripped with venom, his face turning red as he screamed in your face. Your ears throbbed and you broke down in tears. San was scaring you, and the things he was saying to you hurt.

You took a step back, sobs shaking your body. San... I didn't mean for things to get so complicated… please stop yelling at me, you’re scaring me!,” you put your hands in front of your face, just in case he was going to starting hitting you.

San's expression hardened, and without another word, he grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the living room. "I think it's time I show you something, Y/n.

You nodded, unsure of what he had to show you. For some reason, there was a feeling in your stomach, a gut feeling. Something was off. The unease grew as he led you to a trash bag that was sitting in front of the front door. “What’s that?,” you asked, confused. Why on earth was he showing you a trash bag? Did he want you to take the garbage out?

San laughed, but it wasn’t humorous. With a single swift motion, San tore the trash bag open, revealing the gruesome sight inside.

Wooyoung's severed head stared back at you, lifeless eyes wide open in horror. His olive skin had turn a sickly gray color, and a stench burned your nose. Your breath caught in your throat as you stumbled back, terror freezing you in place. You screamed, your hands covering your eyes as you dropped to the floor. “Why… why would you do this?”, you covered your face, as you choked on snot and tears. Your body shook and between the crying, the smell of rotting flesh, and the sight of the love of your life’s body-less head was all too much. You stared up at San. Someone you trusted with your problems, someone you felt safe with, was a monster. San looked at you, a twisted grin on his face.

"Now, Y/N, tell me... are you still confused about who really cares about you?"

-

I’m still taking requests everyone, I’ll write anything🫶🏻❤️

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

This is a little silly ask but can I get reactions from the demon bros and side characters to receiving a kiss on the back of their hand from their s/o?

guess who finally finished going through all 80 lessons of OG Obey Me - (sponsored by Time Chronicles)

Lucifer has kissed the back of your hand before, and done so in a showy manner just to fluster you. He didn't expect for him to be on the receiving end but you're always full of surprises. You grin as your lips touch the back of his hand, and he can't help but do the same.

Mammon calls you his servant again and it makes you roll your eyes. "Shall I bend down onto one knee and kiss Master's hand for gracing me with his presence?" He smugly says you should, but isn't so smug when you actually do so. Sputtering out how he was only messing around as you pepper a kiss to the back of his hand.

You and Leviathan are cosplaying as two characters. He is king and you're a knight. It's only right that you kiss the back of his hand for a cosplay photo. "I know we're in character and all but this is still soo embarrassing. " He's blushing, and the fact that you make sure to roll My Liege off your tongue as you kiss the back of his hand is not helping!

Satan is also a giver of kisses on the back of your hand. But sometimes he gives them out to tease you, always grinning as he makes you ask him to give you a proper kiss. But when you lean down and do it to him when he asks you to kiss him, well, he's just as flustered. "What's wrong Satan, is this not you wanted?" He scoffs, murmuring how you know that's not what he meant.

Do you want Asmodeus to start swooning? Because he most certainly will! He thinks it's such a cute gesture for you to press your lips to the back of his hand. Could he interest you in doing it again? And maybe letting him take a picture, he pinky promises he won't post it! Unless you let him...

Beelzebub is a little confused but he's got the right spirit. Because on one hand he like, oh thank you. And is really happy that you kissed the back of his hand. But on the other hand is not satiated, and would in fact like you to kiss him on the lips. Please?

Belphegor is standing next to you at a ball, of which you both were forced to attend against your will. You're watching a couple preparing to dance when one of the dancers lowers down to one knee and kisses their partner's hand. Belphie scoffs. "That looks so stupid." You then decide to get down on one knee and do the same to him to see if he still thinks it's stupid. "Well I guess it's not stupid when you do it." He mutters.

Diavolo loves to kiss the back of your hand, well he loves to kiss you in general but still! He usually uses it as a greeting when taking you out anywhere on a date. So imagine his surprise when you take him out on a ate and the first gesture of the night is you taking his hand and giving it a kiss. He's practically radiating joy the full evening.

Barbatos wonders why you're staring at his hands so much. He assumes that it must have something to do with not wearing gloves, but if you had a question you would have voice it by now. "Could I have your hand?" You ask, and while he raises a brow he does as you ask. He's surprised when you lips touch the back of his hand, but pleasantly so.

Solomon is teasing you when he holds out his hand. "Don't you think you should greet me properly?" You're not a hundred percent sure of his exact implications in doings so, but you still decide to take his hand and kiss the back of it. He laughs. "See was that so hard? I expect you to greet my like this more often!"

Simeon always looks so mesmerizing, part of you wonders if he even realises that bit of information. Surely he must at least have caught on this point that you think so? Considering how much you'll zone out mid-conversation to admire him. You're only brought back when he questions if you're feeling alright, "yeah I'm okay just thinking about how radiant you are." If he didn't know before he does now, especially when you grasp his hand to pull it to your lips for added measure.

Raphael knows you're up to something, but he's not sure what. Normally, that look on your face means you're about to do something silly to get a reaction out of him. He's even more suspicious when you ask him to present you with his hand. "Why?" You claim nothing bad, and he's sure of it but that goofy smile makes him think you'll do something. He relents and lets you take his hand. He's not sure what possessed you to kiss the back of his hand, but he does appreciate the gesture all the same.

It's a joke, you're calling Thirteen milady in an accent that makes her laugh while getting down onto one knee. "Stop being such a dork." She's saying with a roll of her eyes as you place a kiss on the back of her hand, but the gesture still makes her heart race ever so slightly. Part of her wants you to do it again, but another part of her wants to catch you off guard one time and do the same.

Mephisto has been going on about how it is only proper that the two of you should dance this evening. Despite you throwing in a playful jab about how a couple months ago his opinion on a human and demon dancing together is anything but. He had scoffed and told you to stop being difficult. You do agree to dance with him, but only after making a big show of bending the knee and kissing the back of his hand. "You're doing this on purpose!" You are. And him being flustered is only goading you on further.

[killuakiru]

hello!! could you write headcanons for killua and gon (separately) w a fem!reader that looks/dresses masculine/very androgynous and sometimes even gets misgendered as a guy? ty!! <3

Yes I absolutely can !! Thank you for your request dear anon 🫶

⊹₊⋆ Androgynous!Reader x Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freeces ( Separate ! ) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

༉‧₊˚. Let's start! ༉‧₊˚.

༉‧₊˚. Killua Zoldyck ! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Lets say, hypothetically, you both met during the Hunter's Exam, and Gon introduced you to him !

• At first, he found you suuuper interesting! ‘cause he saw a "boy" with a soft expression, and such a soft voice as well! Something you don't see or hear often.

• He made a mental note to tease you about your feminine features in the future.

• Although, nonetheless, you three bonded like no other. But you'd always question why Killua was so touchy. ( Like swinging an arm around your shoulder, hitting / patting your back. Yk, dude activity! )

• Up until the end of the Hunter's Exam, he NEVER knew that you were a girl. Hell– even when the group rescued him from the Zoldyck estate!

• "Gon! Oh– [Name], too!" He mentions your name VERY cheerfully! Even hitting your waist with both of his fists– it's a miracle he didn't question the shape of your waist as a female.

• It wasn't until during the training in Heaven's Arena that he found out.

• "[Name]'s taking FOREVER! He sure takes his sweet time." Killua grumbles, sighing and shaking his head in a disapproval manner. Gon perks up and faces Killua with a confused expression. [Name] is a she?" He mentions, baffling Killua. "WHAT?!"

• And, said "she" comes out in her glory, quite literally wearing a SKIRT. Clad in a long beige cardigan, long sleeve white tshirt underneath, and a long khaki pleaded skirt that're below her knees for a change, SHE waved to the duo.

• "Hi! Sorry I took a while. I didn't know skirts were honestly such a hassle to buckle." She says with an exasperated sigh, placing both hands on her hips. "No problem! But you should really change, I mean, we're fighting and it must be uncomfortable to wear a skirt." Gon exclaims, walking over to the female. She nods with a grin, "No worries, I always have a change of clothes."

• During this interaction, Killua was STUNNED. What do you mean he's been SO touchy with a female all this time?!

• "Killua, stop staring! Let's sign up already!" [Name] called and faced the counter and signed some papers.

• While this didn't change Killua's and [Name]'s friendship, Killua will ALWAYS be embarrassed. He honestly feels SO bad that he misgendered you for a few months.

• after that interaction, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a tad bit interested in [Name]!

༉‧₊˚. Gon Freecss ! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• It's either he's already aware that you're a female or he's so clueless

• In a scene where he's already aware, his instincts probably told him that you're a female LMAO, he's like "You dress kind of funny!" Since the people in Whale Island usually wear long skirts / dresses

• But he's soso positive about it!! He's always like "Your style is so cool!" As he babbles about the traditional clothing in Whale Island

• In a scene where he IS clueless, he'll treat you exactly how he treats Killua! The difference would honestly be the softness on his voice

• Due to living with two women his entire life, he's gotten used to being softer on women ( as per Mita's words )

• When you both met, let's say in the Hunter's Exam and you wear like a soft feminine perfume despite your clothing he goes "Hi miss!" In an excited tone.

• Of course, you were pleasantly surprised because a lot of people would call you "sir" or "little boy / boy" all the time.

• In contrast to Killua, he read in between the lines and connected the dot that you were a female by your soft expression & voice.

• Now if he DIDN'T know, he'd probably go like "Hi sir!" As well, and since he was pretty forward with his greeting, you got to correct him earlier.

• But hypothetically, let's say he just walked up to you saying he wants to be friends!

• He probably found out through the end of the Hunter's Exam, or during the rescuing of Killua!

• If he found out through the end of the Hunter's Exam, he probably found out through observing your fighting style!

• If you fought with your fists, he found out with the way you move your body– naturally, a female's body would have a softer tone unlike a male who would be on the rougher edges!

• same goes if you use any weapons or special techniques :3

• You might be thinking– if Gon found all these out by observing, why didn't Killua? Simple! Because he was sooo convinced you were a boy and he didn't bother observing you!

• When Gon found out, he was straight forward! "[Name].. Are you by any chance a girl?" He asks in a genuine & curious manner, and how could you stay mad at him?! It was an honest mistake he did!

• You just cleared up everything, saying that you prefer wearing the clothing you wear for comfortability, and because it hides your movements easily to the point you can easily fool your opponent! ( get the reference ? )

• He listened closely and attentively, and he was really respectful about it too! Such a gentleman!

• ( If Killua knew beforehand ) Killua definitely teased Gon about it, humorously saying he was stupid for not knowing a clear thing! ( even when he was fooled too in the beginning )

• Through the times you three adventured through the world up until the end, Gon loved you SOO much! He loves you for who you are even when people make fun of him for choosing a girl that looks like a boy :)

• In the end, he was happy, even after he lost his ability to use Nen, he's glad there's someone who'll take care of him and his reckless choices <3

༉‧₊˚. End !༉‧₊˚.

Hopefully you like this anon ! 🫶 I had fun making this, I apologize if this seems too ooc ( out of character ) since I sprinkled a lil own hc of their characters !

Thank you for reading ! This strictly belongs to me / killuakiru and I do not give permission for you to repost on other platforms, thank you !

Masterlist here !

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

casual. l Marcus Moreno

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔

Summary:  you misread his signals

Warnings:  angst, sad, a glass of wine, one broken heart

A/N: sorry for these scribbles. I hope that despite everything you will stay with me.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

a few ways to break a heart [masterlist]

Your footsteps echoed through the hallway of the almost empty quarters of The Heroics. The containers of takeout food you were carrying warmed your hands. 

This Friday evening after a whole week of work and training should have been rewarded with a comforting meal. The smell of Chinese food, from your, and his, favorite restaurant pleasantly caressed your nostrils.

You turned right and headed straight to Marcus's office. You wanted to surprise him, especially since he had already told you in the morning that he would have to stay at work a little longer, and you knew how much he hated it.

You and Marcus weren't a couple, at least not officially. You had known each other for a long time, but something had changed in the past few weeks. 

You went out for dinner together, and then again. And after that Marcus invited you to the cinema, and then you went to some drive-thru, after you picked up your order you both kissed so intensely that it took you a few minutes to pick up all the fries from the floor of his car later.

And those funny emoticons he sent you when you exchanged messages. You felt like a teenager who had a crush on a boy. But it was so easy. 

Marcus was a fantastic and nice guy. He treated you the way you could only dream of, he listened when you talked to him and really tried to make you feel good around him. A smile appeared on your lips just thinking about him.

You were approaching the ajar door of his office and were about to go in when you heard Marcus talking to someone.

"Listen, we'll practice this at the next training, okay? I still have a lot of paperwork."

"Don't tell me you're going to sit here." Miracle Guy sneered. "It's Friday, dude! You could go out or something."

"I'm not stopping you from going out so..."

"What about that girl you've been seeing lately?"

A strange silence fell over the room, and you held your breath. Finally, you heard Marcus clear his throat and speak up a bit confused.

"What made you think I was seeing someone?"

You didn't see Miracle Guy's face, but you could imagine his suspicious expression when he said your name. "I think everyone noticed that you two were into each other. Invisi Girl saw you leaving the cinema last Saturday. Together."

"Yeah, we went to the cinema together." Marcus must have been very confused, because that's what his tone of voice sounded like. "But you know... That doesn't mean anything. It's casual."

A small needle stabbed itself straight into your heart. Your fingers tightened around the containers of food as you bit your lip to keep from making any noise. You wanted to curse out loud.

"Casual..." Miracle Guy repeated "She's really cool. Smart, funny and pretty. And she really likes you."

"Please, we're not dating." Moreno was already tense and uncomfortable "We went to see a movie together, but that's it. And please, let's not bring this up again, okay? We’re just friends."

"As you wish, Marcus. It's none of my business." Miracle sighed and you heard the creaking of the chair he was sitting on "I hope she thinks the same way you do."

"I'm sure she does."

You retreated to the empty office next door at the last moment before Miracle Guy left. You waited a moment longer until you heard the sound of typing in the other room and silently left your hiding place.

If anyone ever asked you about it, you didn't remember the way to your car. You simply woke up in your apartment, with two portions of the food you ordered, which you immediately put in the fridge because you didn't feel hungry anymore.

Marcus' words kept pounding in your head, and you felt worse and worse. It wasn't like you could already imagine yourself in a white dress after a few dates with him, but you really liked him. You had had a soft spot for him for a while now, and it seemed to you that he felt good around you, too. But maybe you just misread his signals? 

You poured yourself a glass of wine and ran a hot bath to improve your mood a little. Pleasant music bounced off the bathroom walls, but it didn't drown out the sound of an incoming text message. 

Your phone almost fell into the bathtub when you read the message from Marcus.

Hi. I thought that maybe, if you don’t have any plans for the weekend, you'd like to meet up? There's a festival not far from us, it could be fun. 😉 Let me know, I'll be waiting. 🫣🌹🌹

"You'll wait then." You mumbled to yourself and turned off your phone, putting it back in its place.

You didn't know if Marcus had texted you or called you yet. You spent the whole weekend alone and you felt really good about it. 

You took care of yourself because you wanted to prove to yourself that you didn't feel bad at all because of what you had heard. A few words couldn't hurt you, right? Marcus was right, it wasn't anything binding. 

Friends do things like that, right? They go to the cinema or out for dinner, and then they kiss in the car. Normal friendly things.

But Monday hit you in the face as soon as you sat down at your desk.

A familiar figure stood in your doorway. Soft brown eyes looked at you from behind thick glasses. You could even swear that you saw a mixture of joy and concern in them at the sight of you.

"Hi." Marcus greeted uncertainly. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

You tried to act relaxed, as if this conversation was natural, as if your heart wasn't beating wildly in your chest. Marcus walked over to the chair in front of your desk and leaned on it with his hands, clearly confused and stressed.

"I've been texting you, trying to call..." he started, but you quickly interrupted him.

"I had problems with my phone." you lied without hesitation. "Was something wrong?"

"No, I just... I thought we could meet again. You know, Missy was at my mom's. I thought..."

"Marcus..." you sighed, and he felt a strange shiver run down his spine. "I think we should limit our meetings to formal ones only."

He frowned, analyzing your words. You didn't want him to find out that you had heard his conversation with Miracle Guy, or that it hurt you. It had to sound as natural as possible.

"Did I do something wrong?" he finally asked, a little scared "If so, then I'm sorry, I just... I really like you, you know. And I love spending time with you, not just here at work. I thought we..."

You stood up from behind your desk and rested the tips of your cold fingers on the counter. You would have given a lot for your voice not to tremble at that moment and luckily it didn't.

"Marcus, I don't think you're ready to move on..." you said, you saw his lips part in surprise, but you wanted to get it over with. You had been thinking about it all weekend and you didn't want to suffer any longer. "You're not ready to move on, and I'm not ready to be your friend. Just your friend. That's why I think we should only see each other at work. Only formally."

You could see that Marcus wanted to say something. Brown eyes were staring at you intensely, but before he could formulate a sentence, the sound of his phone echoed through the room.

"Answer it, it might be important." You said and sat back down in your chair trying to look calm.

"It's Miracle Guy, he can wait." Marcus mumbled, putting his phone back in his pocket.

"You're the leader of the Heroics, this call is important." You pointed it out to him. "And I have a lot of work today so if you could..."

He understood you without a problem. You didn't even look up as he headed out the door, closing it behind him.

redemption : casual l Marcus Moreno

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[luveline]

for early eddie and roanie!! maybe eddie and roan sees you in your work get up for the first time and they’re just in awe and think you’re so pretty!

ty for requesting ♡ eddie and roan —eddie and his daughter meet you for dinner after work and find themselves surprised at your attire. fem!reader

"Dad, what–" Roan stammers, smart but young enough to struggle anymore, "what are we doing, um, here?" 

Eddie puts the car in park. "We're having dinner in a restaurant! How fun, right?" 

"Right. We're not going home?" 

Eddie gets out of the car and takes a breather. It's weird for them to go somewhere after daycare that isn't home or the grocery store, he can understand her confusion. He's nervous about it himself, and he could really do without more sweating. Right now is the only time you could see him for the next couple of days (a friend's birthday, a hair appointment, a work commitment you couldn't squeeze out of), so despite his bedraggled appearance and Roan's stained dress, he's here. 

Eddie opens Roan's door. "Well, Y/N's busy for a couple of days, but she still wanted to see us," he says, unclicking Roan's car seat. He lifts her out and sets her on the asphalt of the parking lot. "So we have to do it right now. She squeezed us in." 

"Oh…" 

Eddie crouches down in front of her to smoothe the hair from her face. Careful, he brushes kinks and coils behind her ears, hands dancing down to her shoulders, her arms. He dusts her off. "Let me get your cardigan from the trunk. It's cold, huh?" 

"Shivers!" she says. 

"No, not shivers!" Eddie guides her away from the door to close it. Roan takes his hand without being asked, following him to the trunk. "Here, babe, let's get this on and then we'll go inside. We should have a little bit of time before Y/N comes." You're cutting out of work early. 

Eddie worries you'll get a good look at him all grease-covered and clammy and turn straight back around, but this is exactly as he looked when you asked him out the first time, and despite being busy you were insistent on seeing him. Good signs. Plus, you've seen him dressed up, so maybe you could just superimpose that image of him onto his frizz. 

Eddie makes sure Roan is buttoned up warm before offering his arms. "Want me to carry you? I know you've had a long day, haven't you?" Roan wraps her arms around his neck and he stands, lifting her against his chest. She calms him down whenever he's nervous, resting her cheek on his. "Okie dokie, let's go inside."

"Kiss?" Roan asks. 

Eddie kisses her chubby cheek. "Kiss," he says, the wool of her cardie soft under his hand. 

He rushes into the restaurant to get her out of the cold, rubbing her back in a pointless mission to keep her as warm as possible. It's a small restaurant inside of an Inn, dark wood and carpeting lit by butter yellow sconces. It's nice but not fancy, a family place you chose without any input from him. He's always pleasantly surprised by how willing you are to have Roan join you —this wouldn't work if you weren't, but some people wouldn't be as accepting of it as you are. He thinks he's pretty lucky. 

Luckier still when he sees you already waiting at the little podium. You're distracted by something in your pocket, looking up at the sound of the door closing. "Hi, Munsons!" you say, big sweet smile on your face. 

"What are you wearing?" Roan asks. 

You give a startled laugh. "This is what I have to wear at my stupid job. Do I look silly?" 

"You look beautiful," Eddie says. 

He means it more than anything. He's used to seeing you in nice skirts with a little chain necklace on. And that's perfect, you always look like the sweetest thing god ever let near him, but this is a different kettle of fish completely. You look— 

"So pretty!" Roan says, clapping her hands together. 

You visibly fluster at the double compliments. "I have to wear this stuff to seem professional. I always feel like I'm playing dress up." 

"Are you kidding?" Eddie asks. "You always look great, this is… you look stellar. I mean." He shakes his head with feigned disapproval. "They let you walk around like that?"

You bring your hands to your cheeks.

"I'm kinda embarrassed, we look like a mess compared to you," Eddie says, shifting Roan in his arms sheepishly, his shoulders hiking. 

"What are you talking about? You guys look nice! And they know it's after working hours anyways, you don't have to be perfect. Just hungry. What do you want, princess? They have a buffet, does that sound nice? We can have unlimited mac and cheese." 

Roan's stomach gives a gurgle right on schedule. She nods emphatically. 

You nod back, the buzz of their compliments here to stay as you step up to the podium. "I have reservations for three, under L/N?" you sound infectiously pleased. 

Eddie dips his head down to Roan's ear. "Thank you for being so nice, babe. I think you made Y/N really happy." 

"Can I have clothes like that?" Roan asks. 

Eddie chuckles, picturing Roan in a button up shirt with a stiff collar and slacks, smart black kitten heels to match. "Maybe when you're older. I don't think you'd find it comfy enough." 

"It's actually not too bad," you say, as the three of you follow a hostess down a gentle gradient into the restaurant. 

Eddie shakes his head behind Roan's. You catch his plea, coughing suddenly. "I mean, the heels make my toes cry and I can't do any running or dancing in my pants, but you get used to it, Ro."

Roan lifts her lips to Eddie's ear. "I like dancing," she whispers. 

Eddie pats her back. "I know. Let's stick to comfy clothes for now, okay?" 

"Okie dokie. Why don't you wear stuff like that to work, dad?" 

"It's hard to explain." 

"You don't want to look nice?" 

Eddie sighs as you laugh behind your hand. "It's dirty work, bub, I don't know what to tell you." 

[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

you never thought your humble, little podcast would ever touch somebody's soul like it did one kim sunwoo's.

▷ genre, warnings. s2f2l, mutual pining/crushing, college au, fluff, minor angst, humor, comfort, swearing, i actually know very little about anything going on w their majors tbh LOL 💀, uhh sunwoo's a simp but wbk, the outline of sunwoo's abs but if u read too fast u will miss it, kissing, low-key miscommunication trope (im sorry i hate those too), rip sorry yangyang, uhm they're kinda cute i *guess* :/, if there r typos then whoops i don't like editing !!

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

this is the fifth installment of the love in unity series! this fic can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to the main plotline and all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. ALSO, the second episode specifically has a direct reference to a scene from flight risk, but the rest of the fic won't need any other outside context!

a/n: for @justalildumpling and her chopsticks <3 i dragged myself out of writer's block, pls reblog :'))

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): RHAPSODY… LIKE THE BOHEMIAN ONE?

THERE was something about general education requirement courses that felt too much like a university scam. Why was it required to learn more about things that wouldn’t help one’s chosen career path in the long run? Sunwoo hadn't necessarily been thrilled when he wasn't able to get one of the lower level English classes to fill his requirement, but the 300-level literature class had so far turned out to be… actually interesting. Well, the literature itself was interesting enough. The professor?... Not so much.

There was one thing about this class that he could safely say kept him sane though. And it was more so a person than a thing.

The discussion classroom wasn't terribly full as he strolled through the door with his hoodie thrown over his dark brown curls and headphones, a pretty voice flowing through the ear pieces as he took his usual seat to the side of the room.

"...and we're back! Hope you all enjoyed this week's song recommendation. It's been a favorite of mine ever since my dad introduced it to me when I was a kid. An absolute road trip banger—"

Sunwoo's eyes flickered up to see that the TA for the discussion wasn't yet here, but he lowered the volume on his headset slightly in case.

"—kudos to all the songwriters out there. Writing relevant stuff that transcends time is hard, man. I can't even make meaningful conversation with my graduate student supervisor."

A small smile curled the corners of his lips upward. Just as he anticipated the segment on the host geeking out about her favorite oldies music picks, he heard instead—

"I can't even make meaningful conversation with my other grad student supervisors, you know?"

Wait a minute. Confusion flickered across Sunwoo's face as he checked and lifted one of his headphone ears. That can't be right…

Somebody sat down in the seat beside him, almost startling him because he had his back to the door. It was you, the pretty second-year who he had met on the first day of this discussion a few weeks ago. But he was peering at you now in a whole new light as a smile lingered on your face from your conversation with the class’s TA.

When you felt his eyes on you, you flashed him a bright grin. “Hey, Sunwoo.”

He cleared his throat, fumbling to turn his headphones off and follow your lead in taking out the materials needed for today’s discussion. “Oh, hey, Yn.” It occurred to him just how creepy he was probably being just then…just watching you. But the thoughts in his brain were flying around like mosquitoes around his head—had he been hearing things?

“What’d you think of the reading?” You asked him pleasantly.

The reading from the past week had been the first third of a novel called The Stranger, a version translated from its original written in French. Sunwoo sucked in a breath, grimacing, “It’s not my favorite,” he drawled. “I have no idea what the point of his character is, to be honest.”

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. “Yeah, he’s a little… flat,” you chuckled.

“Is this supposed to tie into the theory that professor was talking about last week?” He asked then, in an effort to actively shift his brain’s focus away from your awfully familiar voice and sayings, and to the present.

“Something about how he doesn’t fit societal standards. I think it’s existentialism and nihilism. Well, at least I think it is.”

Huh. Interesting. Sunwoo gave a little bob of his head, and this was just when the TA turned everyone’s attention to a class discussion about the novel. He definitely hadn’t thought of those terms specifically when reading, but at the same time, he did understand where you were getting that sentiment from. He just couldn’t articulate his view of literature quite as well as you could. That had made you somewhat intimidating to him in the beginning, besides your very cute smile, but he was hoping he could learn something from you nonetheless.

You weren’t even a literature major, he realized as he listened to you offer your thoughts to the group. It was cool, though—you were cool.

— ✶

The Songbird Station was a podcast, radio-esque show that Sunwoo had discovered over summer break, a few weeks ago. The podcast was hosted by an anonymous host who dubbed herself “DJ Dove.” She definitely didn’t mind talking about a few of her personal life experiences; it was easy to simply bar the names and identities. Sunwoo had binged all two seasons so far of the podcast, happily tuning in as a silent listener and admirer of hers for awhile, and he had always wondered where she went to school or who she was, but it hadn’t invaded his thoughts like this before.

Sunwoo laid in his bed the day after the literature discussion, his hands resting on his stomach and his expression turned up toward the violet-red LED-lit ceiling of his room. His phone sat on the edge of his nightstand as it played a playlist of songs that Dove had recommended to her listeners—or well, he wondered if he could safely assume that what he heard yesterday was correct, and that you were DJ Dove.

It would make sense, he thought. You were a sound and music production major, had great taste in music (from the brief conversations you struck up with him while in class), and you literally said the exact same thing that Dove had said over the podcast. It couldn’t have just been a coincidence. And now that he thought about it, your voice really did sound a lot like DJ Dove’s. There was a sort of friendly warmth to both of your voices, and—and—

Knock, knock— “Aye, Sunwoo! I'm going to Juyeon's place now. Are you sure you don't wanna come with?"

Oh, right. He had nearly forgotten that Eric had planned to head over to their new mutual friend's apartment tonight to watch a sports game. Juyeon was a friend of a friend of a friend—the connections ran long in their friend circle, he supposed. Sunwoo stole a peak at his phone screen for the time and his joints ached at the sight of 8:53 on the face. His face screwed up as he replied to his friend and roommate, “Nah, I think I'm still just gonna chill here tonight.”

He grabbed his phone fully off the nightstand this time and turned onto his side.

“Oh, okay. Don't burn the apartment down and don't steal my ramen!”

Sunwoo squished his face down into his pillow, raising his voice slightly since his words would probably be muffled, "I'm not going to steal your ramen!" This guy.

He heard Eric grumble something under his breath from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of footsteps moving farther away from his room. When he heard the front door close, he let out a breath and turned back to his phone. To his surprise, he had managed to absentmindedly navigate away from the playlist screen and to the Songbird Station homepage, filled with a collection of all of your links. One of these links was for listeners to submit song recommendations or ask questions, and most of the time, they were all anonymous with their own little nicknames.

He had never fully considered doing it… but that didn’t mean he hadn’t ever partially thought about it. He definitely imagined becoming one of Dove’s more frequent anonymous submitters and becoming friends with her—on a level that one could consider oneself friends between two anonymous users, at least.

But up until now, he hadn’t thought that he could do it. Well, because Dove was Dove; he was one of hundreds of listeners.

“But she’s Yn,” he thought aloud to himself, turning back onto his back to speak to the ceiling, as if the layer of plaster above his head could possibly give him a viable answer. “There’s probably a reason she doesn’t use her actual name,” he pondered further, expression contorted into deep contemplation. “This feels wrong!” He groaned.

There was at least one person he could count on to deal with his bullshit.

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

“Well, screw you, too,” Sunwoo huffed as he swiped out of his and Changmin’s text chain. Out of all the times Changmin said “no” randomly, it had to be this time.

It didn’t matter much anyway though. Sunwoo went back to the links page and clicked on the anonymous submissions. He was met with a customized greeting page from the hostess herself, as she thanked her listeners and asked what they’d like to contribute to the show.

Sunwoo moved to sit up against his headboard as he racked his brain for something to say. He had tons to say, but the first message had to be perfect, right?

“It’s fine,” he said out loud, thumbs flying over the keyboard to type out the first thing that came to mind. After all, it was completely anonymous, so it wasn’t like she would—or you would—even know it was him.

He probably read over his little paragraph about a hundred times before attempting to figure out an anonymous name to sign off with. He hugged his knee to his chest when he couldn’t come up with something cool, charming, or unique. Maybe he would stay completely unknown for now. Maybe he wouldn’t even have the courage to submit another message after this one anyway!—

"Rhapsody," he said aloud. Rhapsody was a cool word. Rhapsody anon? Was that who he would sign as?

He did the most logical course of action: look up the word. He asked the internet for its most basic definition, then somehow ended up in the rabbit hole of etymology of the word rhapsody. It described one who stitched verses or songs together—something of the sort. It sounded cool, at least.

It would have to do… and even if you—or DJ Dove—thought it was stupid, no one would know it was him.

Before he could psych himself out of it, Sunwoo pushed the submit button and launched his phone away from him onto the bed like it was explosive. There was something thrilling about anonymous submissions, but incredibly anxiety-inducing, as well. He could only hope that you would be pleased to read it.

— ✶

It was Wednesday when the next episode of the podcast dropped, and Sunwoo was swift to don his headphones on his way out the door of the apartment. The walk to campus was a good fifteen or so minutes, which would get him about a quarter of the way through the episode, but usually the line in the campus cafe was long, so he had plenty of time to listen.

“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and today, I went to my Groupon singing lesson and realized that I think my teacher is having an affair with her neighbor…?”

Sunwoo let out a snortish laugh, covering his mouth with his hoodie sleeve in slight embarrassment as he passed by somebody else going in the opposite direction. Usually, there would be anonymous submissions sprinkled throughout the episode, most of them having to be diverted to later episodes because they were song recommendations. Sunwoo wasn’t super optimistic about his chances of being featured in this episode, but a guy could dream, couldn’t he?

The sky was a pleasant shade of crystalline blue, even as the seasons shifted from summer to fall. There was a slight breeze wafting through the air that brought in the telltale autumnal chill.

"...and luckily the rest was history. My voice was completely dead and my throat is still a little sore, haha, so we'll do a couple more anonymous submissions and recommendations today! This is supposedly a radio show-esque podcast, after all. This one's from a new friend—Rhapsody Anon!"

Sunwoo nearly tripped over the flat sidewalk and sent a nervous smile to the other person waiting at the stoplight with him. Did you just say what he thought you said?

There came a soft laugh from you. "Ooh, like Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen? Such a classic, by the way. Rhapsody says: Hi Dove! Hoping you're doing alright and that songwriting is going well. I'm a relatively new listener but a fan from first listen—awh, wait… that's kind of like love at first sight but for the voice version, isn't it?"

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

"Anyways, that's really sweet; thanks so much—there's a bit more of the message that I'll post on my story later so we can save time, but Rhapsody, thank you for tuning in and interacting with me. Your message sounded so heartfelt to me? I dunno," you chuckled and he swore he could hear the smile in your voice, "maybe I'm a little biased 'cause I love your song rec, too. Speaking of which, Rhapsody recommends Painkiller by Ruel! An immaculate choice, if I do say so myself…"

Sunwoo couldn't help but smile to himself at your warm reception of his anonymous submission. He wished he could have gotten your full reaction to his entire message, but he understood that you needed to account for all the other things you had planned.

Even so, an acknowledgement from you would have been enough. He hadn't thought it was possible, but he thought he just became even more attached to this DJ Dove persona.

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

THE curtains in Sunwoo's room were yanked open, the sound of metal rings against the metal bar scratched at his eardrums and made him grimace. It definitely did not help the pounding in his cranium, and—wait, was he in jeans? There was a disgusting after taste in his mouth, something akin to alcohol, and when he lifted his hand to rub his eyes, he felt dried tear tracks on his skin.

Eric stood at the foot of his bed with a scowl and his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm mad at you."

Sunwoo smooshed his face into his pillow in a sorry attempt to hide his eyes from the blinding overcast sky outside. "What's new?" He babbled incoherently.

It seemed his friend and roommate was not pleased with his answer and moved to tower over Sunwoo right beside him. "You couldn't have waited ten minutes before barging in? I was so close to kissing her!"

"Huh? What the hell are you…" Sunwoo's voice trailed off as the events of last night were slowly coming back to him.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. Ugh. He remembered making plans to go to some singles party with Changmin and Chanhee, and that Eric was bringing EC!Yn over to woo her or something… yeah, he got all that. So why did Sunwoo drink so much and why couldn't he…

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

The emotions from last night came rushing back to him like the tide to shore. Horror contorted his face as his brain raced to string pieces of last night together. He released a groan as he brought both hands up to his face. "Oh my god," he muttered into his palms.

The distinct feeling of devastation and disappointment sank into his gut. No wonder he had thrown all caution to the wind last night and gotten himself drunk off his face.

"How bad?" He asked.

Eric still had his arms crossed. "You cried on EC!Yn like a whale and asked why women were perfect and why you couldn't have this one girl." By the drone of Eric's voice, he hadn't been pleased or amused by last night's events. Whoops.

"I'm—"

"You are going to be forever alone, by the way."

Sunwoo dropped his hands from his face and leveled a scowl up at Eric. Now, that he remembered saying, too. Unfortunately. "Hey! I'm still tender from last night."

Eric's smile was sarcastic and he said nothing as he made his exit from Sunwoo's room and left the hungover man to fend for himself. Left to his own devices, Sunwoo pushed out a harsh exhale as he stared up at the ceiling.

He remembered receiving the notification from the Songbird Station Twitter account and excusing himself to go to the bathroom to hear your voice memo. And when he'd finally found an empty bathroom and played it back, he learned a devastating piece of information.

Guys, I went on a date… updates in the next episode. That was what you had said, essentially—you, Yn Ln, the girl Sunwoo had met in his literature course last quarter and whom he had figured out was the anonymous host of the podcast Songbird Station under the pseudonym DJ Dove.

And he had gotten drunk over the fact that you'd gone out on a date, and said date hadn't been him.

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

He couldn't believe he had gotten so off his rocker by this news. It wasn't like he knew you or liked you or—well, maybe he had grown an affection for you over the span of time he listened to your podcast and interacted with you via his own pseudonym, Rhapsody Anonymous.

But he was just another fan to you, and you would never know his identity.

A guy could dream though, right?

A thought suddenly occurred to him as he rolled over to go through the copious amounts of notifications on his phone he had. There were lots of messages in his group chat with Chanhee and Changmin that he would deal with later, lots of social media notifications, emails, and…

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

Sunwoo cursed. You were definitely uploading the episode today then.

He bit his lip as he sorted through the notifications to find one about the podcast. Sure enough, there it was: I Went On A Date? was the title, and he pretended like that didn't make him want to play Lany's Valentine's Day on loop—

The bedroom door opened and Eric poked his head into the room. "I made hangover soup."

Sunwoo blinked in surprise. "Oh. Thanks, man."

"Yeah, don't mention it," Eric mumbled, shifting on his feet. "Seriously, don't mention it."

— ✶

For the next couple of days, Sunwoo left the notification at the top of his phone, pretending like it wasn’t there. It had worked for about five minutes, but the remainder of time he was stubborn, he allowed his imagination to get the better of him. Although he no longer needed to take a literature course, he found himself deeply considering the vague title you had provided. Well, what could you mean by that question mark at the end? Had it not gone well? There was no way it could have, since your tone didn’t really scream “OH MY GOD I WENT ON A DATE!!!” (not that Sunwoo had imagined what he would have acted like post-date with someone like you or anything…). He didn’t even know who you had gone on a date with, and that made his stomach churn.

The curiosity devoured him alive over the two days he managed to torture himself with his overthinking. No one knew he listened to the Songbird Station podcast, and he planned to keep it that way. It would be the absolute death of him if any of his friends found out.

By Saturday morning, Sunwoo had had enough of his own stubbornness and caved. He donned his headphones, grabbed his bag, and headed out the door to do some work in a cafe located on the Ave. There was one that his friend Jacob had recommended to the group awhile back, and Sunwoo hadn’t looked back since.

As he tuned into the episode, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, shivering against the cold, winter winds. February weather was a doozy, and a hot cup of coffee or hot chocolate sounded so very sexy right this moment.

“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and you’re probably wondering what the title of this episode even means, or why I sent that weird, cryptic voice message the other night.”

The traffic light turned green, and Sunwoo began to cross the road, the coffee shop in sight. His hands were beginning to get clammy in his pockets.

“Don’t riot, but friends, it means exactly what it says—” As you exhaled out a breathy kind of laugh, Sunwoo inhaled sharply.

“Helpful,” he muttered under his breath as he pushed into the warmth of the coffee shop. He shook the cold out of his body before hopping into the line to order.

“ —I did actually land myself a date yesterday. Honestly, I’m not really much of a dater; I never really had time with it over the past years because I would, uh… well, I would rather stay in and do music, y’know?”

The corners of Sunwoo’s lips curled up into a smile. Maybe he had been nervous before about this episode’s topic of choice, but he should have had more faith in you. Rather than speak about the date the entire episode, you always managed to worm in a discussion about your passions, and that was the kind of talk that had first gotten Sunwoo hooked. There was something so attractive about hearing or witnessing a person gush about their passions and ambitions—the way their eyes lit up, their posture righted itself, how they smiled so big that one could hear it in their tone of voice.

He was happy that you went out on a date, because you deserved to meet someone who treated you as special as you were. You were a good person, and it wasn’t fair that he was being so salty about it, especially when he was too chicken to—

“Sunwoo?”

His soul practically fell out of his body. “Shit—” He swore, yanking his headphones down with eyes as wide as the earphones. He whirled around to greet you with a flushed face, red like the old Christmas decorations still hanging up from the crown moldings.

You were standing right behind him with a mildly amused look on your face, your lips pressed into a smile and eyes crinkled in absolute delight. You were similarly bundled up like he was to no doubt shield you from the cold on your way here. “Sorry I scared you! I probably should have, like, tapped your shoulder or something, huh?”

Sunwoo let out a nervous laugh and cupped the back of his neck, the skin there warm to the touch. “Oh, uh, no problem at all. I just kinda…”

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

He huffed with a sheepish sort of smile. “No, no that’s not it. I—I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.” Inwardly, he winced. The fact that he was listening to your voice in his ears, and you just happened to say his name at the same time and appear in the same exact coffee shop as him. Weren’t there fifteen of these places on the block? There was no way you just happened to choose this one at this moment.

You chuckled, playing along. “Ah, I see, I see. We haven’t seen each other since fall quarter though. How have you been?”

You and Sunwoo inched up with the line, so the two of you now stood side by side. Sunwoo was trying everything he could to calm the racing of his heart. Play it cool, dude. “I’ve been okay…ish,” he grimaced, re-thinking his answer. “You know winter quarter is always the worst.”

“For sure,” you replied. “It’s so cold and dreary—nobody wants to leave their apartments, especially me,” you joked.

Sunwoo was about to chime in on how he could totally relate to that, when you popped the question: “And then there’s Valentine’s Day. Crazy how it never seems to rain on Valentine’s Day, though, so people can go out. Did you do anything for it?”

Sirens commenced their screeching in his head. WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO! Don’t let her know how much of a loser you were! He coughed, reaching up to scratch his head. “Uh, nothing special in particular, if that’s what you mean. A couple of my friends and I just went to this singles party.” Would that give you the wrong idea? Probably not, right? Why was he so bad at this, he thought, wasn’t he supposed to be a communications major?

You inched up in line. “Oh, that’s cool. I think I went to one in freshman year at my old uni,” you said.

Before he could stop himself, he said, “I almost forgot you transferred this year.” He knew that one from the podcast when you talked about the struggles of being a transfer student and having to almost “redo” your entire first year experience, social-wise. But you had also told him that when you and he had worked together in your shared class last quarter; it was just that the two of you didn’t really talk much about your old university much after that.

“It’s okay,” you smiled, nudging his arm with yours as a gesture for him to order first. “Not many people remember.”

Sunwoo wanted to protest, maybe to reassure you that it wasn’t that easy to forget something like that, but he was forced to switch gears and order his hot beverage first before he could say anything else to you. After he said goodbye to five more dollars, he stepped aside and made his way over to the pick-up counter to wait for you and his drink.

When you were done, you sidled up beside him, hands tucked into the folds of your coat.

Come on, say something, his inner voice chided. “So, uh, how was your Valentine’s Day?”

He immediately regretted it. Out of everything he could have asked, he had to go with the one topic he really didn’t want to hear about. However, it had been one of the logical progressions of the conversation, and who knew? Perhaps it wouldn’t lead to him feeling like he’d been shot down with lightning? (Was he being a little dramatic? Yes. Did it matter? Not when no one was going to hear him, no.)

You let out a small laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It was okay,” you replied.

It was… it was okay? What was he supposed to do with that answer—

“I mean,” you continued with a smile that looked more like a grimace, “it was—fine! It was fine. Uhm…”

Sunwoo’s thoughts came to a slow, teetering stop. Worry began seeping into the cracks of his brain as new scenarios formed. “Hey, if you’re uncomfortable talking about it, then we don’t have to talk about it.” All of the nerves and envy from before was becoming something softer in concern for your response.

“No! No, it’s okay. I promise,” you reassured him. The look you gave him was earnest, and he felt the fist tucked into his pocket gradually relax a bit. “It’s just weird putting it into words, y’know? I kind of chickened out of talking to my friends about it, and even to—” You stopped yourself short, and he could see you backpedaling in your brain. “Anyways, it just felt weird? I think it would have been a really nice night if I actually saw him in that light. But at the same time, I kind of want to try and give it a chance. Does that make sense?”

He nodded, tension falling out of his shoulders. “It does. I mean, sometimes there’s just no spark, y’know?” He added. “I was just worried he did something to make you uncomfortable or something.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. You don’t have to worry.”

“Okay, that’s good,” he murmured, licking his lips. “I’m just curious—” he piped up, “—and you don’t have to tell me, but who did you go out with?”

One of the baristas from behind the counter called your names, and the two of you both stepped forward. Sunwoo took a long stride to get there before you, and handed you your cup for you.

You murmured a “thanks” to him first before stirring in a packet of sugar. “Liu Yangyang. Do you know him?”

Did he? Yangyang was one of the people Sunwoo recognized from not only around campus, but as a person who made music online, too. Even if Yangyang was in the same year as him, Sunwoo always admired the man’s flow and way with words. It made so much sense that Yangyang would pursue you, someone equally talented and charismatic, especially if the two of you were the same major.

A tightening sensation creeped into Sunwoo’s chest as he marinated on the revelation further. If you couldn’t see someone like Yangyang in a romantic light, then where did that put himself?

As Sunwoo let his intrusive thoughts get the best of him, you finished preparing your coffee.

“I’ve gotta run now,” you told him with a soft-cornered grin. “It was nice seeing you, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo managed a smile back at you, head bobbing in some semblance of a nod, before you were exiting the shop. He stood there for a moment to gather his wits, his thoughts, and his dignity.

“Did that really just happen?” He muttered to himself. He took his coffee with him to find an empty table and retrieved his study materials from his bag. Technically, he didn’t even have to listen to the rest of the podcast, but… who was he kidding?

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

“YOU’RE coming with me to the practice rooms, right?” Ji Changmin trailed behind Sunwoo as the two of them shouldered into Sunwoo and Eric's shared apartment with their bags and leftovers from today's lunch. It had been about a week and a half since he had bumped into you at that café and he had been feeling over the interaction since.

Sunwoo popped open the refrigerator while his friend perched on one of the breakfast bar stools, his duffle bag dumped at his feet. "Uh, yeah. 'Course, hyung," he said, shifting some groceries from JC!Yn around to make space for his white plastic container.

A thought occurred to him, and he groaned. "But you're gonna have to go first—without me," he clarified. He grabbed the carton of orange juice out to pour himself a glass, facing his friend's curious look.

Changmin's brows furrowed. "Wait, why not?"

It was a reasonable question, as it went against Sunwoo's normal pattern of behavior. Usually, Sunwoo would tag along with Changmin to the practice rooms at the back of the performing arts building. Changmin was a dance major, and with the highly anticipated winter dance showcase just around the corner, it was important that he got that practice in. Plus, with Eric out of town for an away game, Sunwoo was left alone in the apartment, which wasn't exactly his favorite thing. He would much rather go out and be around other people… unless there was something else occupying him.

Today, that certain occupation came in the form of your first live podcast session, something you were trying out. It was just going to be a live audio stream, so you could stay anonymous with your pseudonym, and answer people's submissions live. You had been advertising it for the past week, having excluded the weekly podcast in order to prepare for today.

Sunwoo was excited as you were and wanted to support you and be one of the people tuning in live. This was important to him, and he had even gone so far as to plan out his day.

"I just have something I need to turn in before the day ends," he said easily, shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. He lifted the glass of orange juice to his mouth for a languid gulp.

Changmin made a teasing noise of disappointment. "Aye, you know if Chanhee were here he'd be on your ass, right?" He chuckled, the dimple of his smile pressing into his cheek.

Sunwoo pouted when he lowered the glass. "If Chanhee or JC!Yn were here, I wouldn't have admitted to procrastination. I have self-preservation skills."

"And you don't think I'd be on your ass?" Changmin gasped dramatically with a hand pressed to his chest.

With tongue in cheek, Sunwoo grinned amusedly. He shook his head, adjusting the hood pulled over him. "Hyung, you can't ding me for procrastination when you procrastinate religiously. Remember that one time you had to beg Professor Ka—"

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

Sunwoo's chuckle turned into nervous laughter as Changmin reached across the island with a claw-shaped hand. "Ah! No! You stay away—go practice!"

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

Soon after, Changmin indeed took his leave to head over to the performing arts hall. Sunwoo drained the juice in his cup and refilled it before making a beeline for his bedroom.

The livestream was projected to last for an hour, about the length of a usual episode, but you did say the timing wasn't set in stone. Sunwoo set himself up at his desk, signing into the platform you always used. Over the past couple of months he was Rhapsody, he'd become one of your regulars, suggesting new and old songs from his music library, talking about his day or week or something the last podcast had reminded him of. He liked to think that the two of you were friends—parasocially.

A guy could dream, right?

He was on his phone when the waiting room faded and became a split screen: one half with a sketched sign that read "ON AIR: COMING TO YOU LIVE!" with a little dove in headphones, and the other half was a live chat feed that people who were tuned in could use. There was both a public and private feature, and Sunwoo kept his on the public chat, unafraid of what a bunch of other people behind anonymous names and screens could do to scare him.

"Oh! Woah, I think that worked," came your voice, loud and clear, through his laptop speakers.

He smiled to himself, reaching over to settle his fingers on his keyboard. A tingling feeling bubbled up inside him, starting from his toes and rocketing up through his chest. He could actually talk to you in real time today.

You clapped lightly on the other side, relief pouring through your voice. "Thank god. I'm supposed to be good with some computer programs, but this livestream feature is kind of new. How're we doing, everyone? It seems…" A couple clicks from your end, "... We've got some more people rolling in. I'll give it a couple minutes, but let me know who we've got here today! It's so cool seeing you guys live!"

Sunwoo was swift to type out a greeting message: Dovey hi!! He paired it with a little, hand-waving emoji.

The small gasp of delight from you had him giggling to himself. "Oh my god, Rhapsody! Hi, best friend, welcome in! We might actually be able to hold a conversation for once," you chuckled.

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

rhapsody anonymous: did u have a good week? it felt weird without an ep from u 🤧

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

He rushed to type as you continued with answering his question: No no! Don’t worry, I don’t blame you or anything lol it’s just something I look forward to every week.

“...Ah,” you said after skimming over his message. “Understood—and aw, I’m glad it’s something you look forward to every week. That makes me really happy to hear… oh! It looks like the numbers are becoming a little stagnant, so I’m gonna get started. Hi, everyone! Welcome to the live edition of Songbird Station. I’m your host…”

— ✶

An hour later, Sunwoo ended up seated at the kitchen counter, drinking orange juice straight out of the nearly-depleted carton, while the livestream continued on. The whole experience had been one of a kind, and by the way you were able to seamlessly speak and engage with your audience for the entire time made Sunwoo feel warm and fuzzy. He was glad this was working out for you.

There was a gradual lull in conversation, however, and you were just wrapping up your last topic to bring your first livestream to an organic stop.

“...wanna thank you all for being here, of course. 57 people listening to my voice for over an hour is kind of crazy, but this was a lot of fun!...”

Sunwoo was just about to start typing up a message to you when his phone buzzed on the counter beside his laptop. He startled, fumbling with the device and grumbling under his breath until he saw who it was and picked up the call.

“Hyung?” He squeezed the phone between his ear and shoulder, attempting to finish his private message to you. I was wondering if I could…|

Changmin’s voice came out breathy and panting like he had just finished a run-through. “Hey, are you done with your assignment yet?”

I was wondering if I could hang back for…| “Huh?” Why couldn’t he multitask, for god’s sake? I was wondering if I could hang back for a minute? If it’s weird though, then it’s no problem…|

No, that wasn’t weird, right? Totally not. He pressed the 'enter' key, satisfied with the message.

“What were you saying?” Sunwoo asked and picked up the phone with his hand. His eyes flickered back to his laptop screen to find that you had sent him a private message back.

Changmin let out a grumbling sigh. “I was just thinking—”

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

He could hear his friend’s eye roll from here. “When you get here Kim Sunwoo…”

“Okay, okay, okay!” He chuckled as he read your message and silently punched the air in celebration. “What do you want? I was in the middle of something.”

“Rude! And I was calling you because I was thinking about you,” Changmin huffed. “Anyway, I was just going over some of the movement for Juyeon and my ‘Light a Flame’ duet, right? And I came up with this combo that would be perfect for three people—”

Sunwoo sucked in a breath. “Oh, nonono!”

“But!”

“No!” Sunwoo protested. “Hyung, you know that I don’t… y’know, I can’t dance up there with you and Juyeon hyung! That’s way too much pressure; you’re both so good at dance.” He pressed his finger against the edge of the counter and began mindlessly dragging it along the surface. There had originally been plans of Sunwoo joining Changmin and Juyeon’s dance partnership for this year’s winter showcase performance, but Sunwoo backed out. The winter showcase was far too large of an event for Sunwoo could even fathom participating in, let alone dancing with two of the best dancers he knew. There was just no way.

Changmin sighed from the other end. He’d heard this argument before and he’d argued against this argument plenty of times. “Okay, fine. See you in how long?”

Sunwoo placed his phone onto the counter again so he could tell you that he was still here and hadn’t just left you hanging. “Uh, give me like, thirty minutes.”

“Alright. I better see your ass here in thirty minutes, Sunwoo.”

“Yeah, I know. See ya, hyung.” He hung up then, shoulders sagging slightly from the conversation. It wasn’t like he had to participate in the winter showcase—he was no dance major, nor was he a dance minor. He technically hadn’t even decided on a minor, and had only been focusing on getting this degree finished. Whether or not he had chosen a minor yet was not his parents’ favorite discussion when they visited him, but… it would get done when he had the energy to. He didn’t want to bring up the idea of a dance minor—he saw what it did to Changmin and his parents’ relationship and—well, it was just better this way, for now.

Having finished with his phone call, Sunwoo returned his focus to you, where, god bless, you were still waiting for him in the livestream room.

rhapsody anonymous: omg i’m SO sorry!! >< a friend of mine just called and turns out i am awful at multitasking

“No worries,” you laughed. “I figured that was the case. Everything okay, Rhaps?”

The corners of his mouth curled up at the thoughtful ask. Even when the two of you had been classmates, you were new to the school, but still made him feel like the two of you had known each other for longer than simply a few weeks. It only made sense that you were the host of this podcast, the very thing that had been his source of comfort as of late.

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

rhapsody anon: i just have this friend who’s doing the winter showcase and i was supposed to go to the practice room with him

rhapsody anon: actually, i was going to dance and perform w him too but ig i kind of chickened out

He didn’t know why he was telling you all of this; this wasn’t even what he originally intended to talk to you about.

He heard you make a soft sound of understanding. You shifted in your seat. “I see… the winter showcase is a big event though, as I’ve heard from peers and friends. It's probably really intimidating to even perform in the pre-show, you know? Are you a dance student, by chance?”

rhapsody anon: i’m not, but i’ve taken the intro to hiphop course my freshman year and i usually dance for fun w my friend

rhapsody anon: i think i’ve just always been kind of insecure in my abilities to keep up w him?

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

Sunwoo leaned back from the laptop and took his hands off the keyboard. He settled his chin onto his folded arms as he listened to your reply.

“Well, I don’t think you should compare yourself to a dance major, right, Rhaps? I mean, it’s not fair to expect more from yourself when he’s clearly had more experience. And if you enjoy dancing, then I don’t see what the harm in trying to perform or even just being satisfied with private practice sessions is!” You paused for a second to gather your thoughts. “What I’m saying is… is that, I can understand where you might feel insecure, and that’s normal, y’know? And if you’re feeling a little unprepared for this year, there’s always future opportunities.”

Sunwoo peered up at his screen as if he could see you on the other side, speaking to him. He sat up to type out a response. Thanks for hearing me out, it’s nice to feel validated. Sorry this kind of took a downer tone haha it wasn’t my intention, I swear!

You giggled and he swore he was smiling a little too wide now. “No worries, really! I’m glad I could be of help, even if it’s to make sure that you know your feelings are valid. If I’m being honest, one of the few reasons why I even started this podcast thing was to kind of just put my experiences out there in search of validity.” You sighed, “I dunno. It’s a story for another time. I am curious, though, as to why you originally wanted to hang out with me after the others left.”

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

rhapsody anonymous: this isn’t really a song rec, but ig it kind of is… i feel like superstar by taylor swift reminds me of u

He held his breath after he pressed the ‘enter’ key.

“Oh…” your voice was soft in surprise, and it made something like giddiness spike in his chest. “That’s really sweet, Rhaps. I… I’m not sure what to say, but thank you. Genuinely.”

rhapsody anonymous: u don’t have to say anything!! really haha ur work and ur words have touched a lot of people

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

And even after you and he had said goodbye to one another and logged off; even after he was well out of the apartment and on his way to campus, that giddy feeling in his chest still hadn’t left him.

EPISODE FOUR: SHOT THROUGH THE HEART! [AND WE’RE ALL IN PAIN]

DEAD week was not typically something Sunwoo had to worry about, as fortunate as that sounded. There were, obviously, classes that made his stomach queasy and made him feel like the world was crumbling into Hot Cheeto dust, but his classes this quarter had been merciful to say the least. The week before finals week was always something that could be visibly observed on campus: students either manifesting like zombies or zooming around to claim seats in the library; grades rising and falling like the housing market; and snacks and coffee being more commonly consumed than any other moment of the quarter.

It was always a hot pile of shit, no matter the student or major.

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

“—it’s not like we’re the root of all of his problems! I’m just trying to graduate!” Eric halted in the middle of the hallway, causing Sunwoo, whose face was nose-deep in his phone screen, to ram into the baseball player’s back.

“Ow!” He hissed, furiously rubbing the place at his forehead that had collided with the nape of Eric’s neck.

“You’re not paying attention,” said Eric, flatly. He turned to Jacob, who also wasn’t paying attention. “Hyung!”

Jacob’s head lifted from where he was busy smiling down at some orange cat video. “What? Nacho’s learning the periodic table—” He flipped his phone around to show Eric, his face immediately lighting up as he forgot about why he was even mad in the first place.

The three of them were currently in the front half of the performing arts building, heading inwards from the main hall to the backstage area where a couple of their friends were already hanging out. Sunwoo had bumped into Jacob and Eric on his way from one of the campus libraries, and with nothing else better to do (than to study), he tagged along to go find someone to bother. (Jacob and Eric were both STEM majors though, which was weird to Sunwoo since… well, shouldn’t they be bunkered up somewhere trying to survive this quarter’s dead week? Anyways…)

Sunwoo sighed and brushed past his two friends to venture deeper into the building. He could already hear somebody’s music blasting from the sound booth as they rehearsed onstage. Over the past several weeks, everyone had been busy preparing for the winter showcase happening at the end of finals week, right before spring break. Ever since Sunwoo’s talk with you over livestream, he had felt a little better about not joining Changmin and Juyeon on stage this year. Plus, from what he could tell when he watched them practice, they already looked pretty much perfect with just the two of them.

Though, there would always be a part of him that wished he really had the courage to go up there and show the audience what he was made of.

Sunwoo wandered into the main auditorium with his hands tucked into his pockets and the doors closing softly behind him. There was indeed a group practicing their number on the stage at the moment. He could even make out the shapes moving from behind the curtains in the wings as other tech members and dancers rushed to and fro to get to where they needed to. Somewhere in that mass of chaos were his friends.

A familiar voice had him lifting his head toward the sound booth. His eyes widened when he recognized you standing in the booth with Bang Chan, one of the more prominent sound and lighting directors working here at the performing arts center. However, it looked like you were leaving, your hands clumsily wrestling with the zipper on your bag while you continued your conversation with Chan, and while attempting to walk backwards out of the sound booth.

Oh my god, you were going to trip on something if he didn’t help—

Both Sunwoo and Chan pounced toward you as the thought occurred to both of them at the same time.

“Yn, careful!” Sunwoo yelled, as he dove for your phone.

Chan steadied you at the bicep, and you hugged your bag to your chest with a flustered grin. “Oops?”

Chan ruffled your hair as he let you go, nodding his hello to Sunwoo, then ducking back into the booth. You stepped out into the main room and shut the door behind you. “Thanks,” you said to him sheepishly, accepting your phone from him.

The two of you naturally fell into step with one another and Sunwoo let you lead him back out towards the main entrance again. “I didn’t know you worked behind the scenes here,” he told you, cupping the back of his head. If he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall hearing about it from your podcast either. “This is the second time I’ve seen you here,” he chuckled.

You stopped for a minute in the middle of the hallway to get a hold of your things. You had to hike your knee up to properly zip your backpack before hauling it over your shoulder. “Oh, that’s right! Just a couple days ago you were here with your friends, right?”

He gave a bashful sort of grin. He had been here a couple days ago when he came to bother Changmin, and ended up hanging out backstage while Hyunjae’s best friend hosted auditions for her play. It was then that he had seen you hustling about with the Lee Jihoon about lights. He’d been caught so off-guard by seeing you; it was a miracle he managed to even get Changmin to forget about that whole interaction. “Yeah, sorry I was kind of… weird. I didn’t expect you, that's all.”

“Lots of surprise run-ins with us, huh,” you teased, the side of your arm bumping with his as you walked.

Us.

“It’s nice to see you more often though.”

You nodded. “The feeling’s mutual, Sunwoo. Thanks for warning me earlier; I’m usually more careful with my stuff, especially when I’ve got special cargo.” As you said this, you reached back to pat your backpack affectionately.

Sunwoo lifted a brow, opening the door for you as the two of you stepped out into the lobby. “Oh? What kind of special cargo?”

The smile on your face widened. “It’s, uhm, a recording mic, actually! I’ve been coming by to intern around the tech side of things here, and Chan and Jihoon give me some tips about music production, too.” You trailed off, an idea taking hold in your head, and that wide beam from just seconds ago became this shy, little thing. “Hey… would you maybe be up to listening to something of mine? I mean, it’s kind of a weird request, but your music taste from first quarter was top notch—”

“Yes,” Sunwoo said, without even waiting for you to finish your rambling.

You paused, and he rejoiced in the pure delight on your face. “Really? That’s—this is great. Wait, I’m so excited! We’ll need to find a private place to listen, but—”

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

Coming in from the front lobby doors was none other than Han Jisung, a fellow second-year whom Sunwoo was familiar with. He was bundled in a massive, puffy cream jacket with his head shoved into a beanie, and his nose was reddened from the cold. Jisung tucked the earbuds in his ears away into their case, waddling over to you both with the joy of a baby penguin. “And Sunwoo! Woah, it’s so cool to see you, man. What’s up?”

Sunwoo clasped his hand in his. “S’cool to see you, too, dude. Yn and I were just on our way out.”

Jisung moved over to you and pulled you in for an affectionate side hug. “Oh, well, that’s nice to hear,” he snickered, wagging his eyebrows at you while you sent him a pointed look.

Wonder what that was all about…

“Anyways,” continued Jisung, “I just came by to bother Channie-hyung. Is he in the box?”

You bobbed your head in affirmation. “Yup. There isn’t anyone else with him right now, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty of space for you to bug him.”

“Nice,” he grinned. As he walked away in the direction from which you and Sunwoo came, he sent a wave. “See you both around!”

“Bye!” Both you and Sunwoo called back before resuming your walk out the front entrance.

“So how do you—” The two of you laughed when you both started talking at the same time, saying the same thing. Sunwoo gestured toward you, insisting that you ask the question first. You did: “So how do you know Jisung?”

Sunwoo snorted at the memory. “I, uh, saw him in the hall once and smacked his ass, then asked for his number.”

You had to stop to double over in laughter, clutching your stomach while Sunwoo looked on in flustered amusement. Your face had heated up considerably, and you barely managed to follow him down the steps toward the bus stop. “You what?” You asked, once you could get out anything other than wheezes.

He chuckled, shrugging. “Okay, well, I actually know him from this music summer camp we both went to in high school. I didn’t realize he came to this uni until I saw him last year and… well, made my presence known to him.”

You clapped your hands together and collapsed onto the bus bench. “I was gonna say—that’s one hell of a hello.”

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

The two of you shared a laugh for a moment and Sunwoo took a seat beside you, his knee bouncing up and down as you waited for the bus to come by. He nudged your shoulder with his. “So what about you then? How do you know Han?”

“Hm? Ah, I just know him ‘cause we share the same major-ish. I’m sound and music production, and he’s just a general music major,” you explained. “We also share a composition class, as well as a writing course. Did you know the guy is a fantastic poet?”

Sunwoo’s eyebrows arched upward. “I would not be surprised; the guy’s an ace.”

“Totally agree.” You fidgeted with your phone between your hands. “He was also one of my first friends here after I transferred. He’s kind of shy, but he’s one of the good eggs you can meet.”

A nod. He glanced over at you, his eyes breathing in the far away look on your face. “Yeah, he is. But hey, at least you got to befriend him then, hm? Maybe some things are just meant to be.”

You met his gaze and Sunwoo felt his heart stutter into a gallop. “Yeah,” you murmured, “I think so, too.”

— ✶

You and Sunwoo ended up in one of the booths of the restaurants on the Avenue. It was a cozy, little hole in the wall with soup that tasted like home and made your belly feel warm and content. You had set up shop at your table, your laptop with the audio file pulled up and your wired earbuds plugged in. You had to power all of your will into not showing Sunwoo how nervous you were for him to listen to this—your fingers shook slightly even as you passed him both of your earbuds.

In an attempt to pass off as cool, calm and totally collected, you brought your glass of water to your mouth to sip on. You'd thought to order food first, then let Sunwoo listen to the file.

"Let me know if you can't hear anything," you blurted out just before he put the buds in.

He paused, then smiled. "I got it," he assured you warmly.

Once the buds were fitted and the song started playing, you could only wait and watch to gauge his reaction.

At first, his eyes widened a smidge. Then he slowly began nodding to the beat, eyes falling closed as he soaked in the electric guitar chords mixed in that Jisung helped you out with. You watched him lean back in his seat… saw the smile bloom on his face, wide like a flower opening its petals to greet the brilliant sun.

And that beautiful smile… oh, he was so pretty when he smiled.

It was a couple minutes later that his eyelids finally fluttered open, and yet that smile on his face remained ingrained there. He passed you your earbuds as you awaited the verdict. "Girl, you've got pipes," he said with emphasis, his face screwed up in an expression one could only describe as appreciative. "Like—oh my god, I want that bridge tattooed on my forehead," he groaned and leaned forward to bury his face in his palms.

Your heart could fly, soar, literally ascend to fucking space! You smiled, big and wide, as you wrapped up the wire chords around three fingers. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Liked it?" He perked up, then melted to the table as he mumbled into his hoodie sleeve, "I could kis…" You didn't catch the end bit of his sentence as his voice dissipated into the fabric of his shirt.

"What'd you say?"

When he lifted his head, his cheekbones had flushed a shade of rose gold. He cupped the back of his neck with a nervous laugh, "Nothing! It was nothing. I just—I just love it, Yn. Really, I mean it. I'm not just saying that because we're friends—"

"Ah, so we're friends?" You jested, even as your heart skipped like a pebble across the surface of a lake.

Sunwoo blinked, lips pursed. "We're not friends?"

"No, I'm only kidding!" You said and leaned your cheek against your fist. "Your reaction was cute though."

You swore something shuddered across his face, but you didn't have much time to analyze it when you felt a presence make himself clear at the head of the table.

Yangyang appeared in a warm-looking jacket and scarf, his eyes flickering curiously between you and Sunwoo. You suddenly felt an anxious spike in your chest at the thought of what this might have looked like to him. That was, until he saw the laptop, of course. You saw the relief in his shoulders, the ease in which he smiled now. "Hey Yn-ie, didn't know you'd be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo scratch his jawline, then scoot forward and offer his hand to Yangyang. "Hey, I'm Sunwoo. You're Yangyang, aren't you?"

Yangyang clasped Sunwoo's hand good naturedly with a typical gummy smile. "Yeah, that's me. It's nice to meet you."

"I was just showing him the project," you said next, drawing both of the boys' attention to you.

"Ah," your friend nodded. "How'd you like it, Sunwoo?"

Sunwoo lit up. "It was—incredible. I don't even know how to describe it, y'know? If it was on my Spotify, it'd probably be on my Wrapped."

There went your heart, goodness. You and Sunwoo locked eyes across the table, and you wished you could convey how much his words meant to you by just a look.

"Totally agree," Yangyang nodded. "My Yn-ie's got a gift and she knows how to use it." He gave your head a gentle pat, and heat rose to your cheeks from the bombardment of attention. It hit you subtly, an epiphany—

Yangyang cleared his throat then and returned his hand to his side. "Anyways, I'll leave you two to it. I'll talk to you later?" He asked you as he was already taking a step backward.

—the heat wasn't for him. It simply wasn't.

"Yeah! I'll shoot you a text later," you promised. You realized then that you had barely even spoken to Yangyang since your Valentine's Day date ended several weeks ago. There had just been a lot of mixed feelings churning around in your head that needed time to be sorted out. (And it was currently being resolved.) With a slight inward grimace, you turned your focus back to the guy you'd brought here in the first place.

Sunwoo slid your laptop over to your side of the table. "Soooo… you and Yangyang, huh?" He laughed, and you weren't certain, but it sounded a bit unsteady.

You played with the hem of your sweater sleeve. "I mean, kind of? Not really? We went on that date a while back, if you remember, but that's about it."

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, and we also haven't had time to really properly talk since?" You winced. "I guess it's not really as bad as I make it sound. It's just that, we've pretty much known each other since primary school. He had just moved from Taiwan, and we were pretty good friends. And he would move back and forth between here and this one town in Germany, but we would always—" you made a vague gesture, "—find each other? Is that the word?"

You let out a breathy sort of laugh. "I'm sorry, I dunno why I'm telling you my history with this guy. It's stupid."

Sunwoo frowned and shook his head. "It's not stupid, Yn."

You inhaled, then chewed on your cheek. "It's just that I always feel like people don't really stick around, at least for me. But Yangyang… he's been one of the few constants in my life, and I'm really grateful for that."

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' with this."

You indulged him. "But I'm starting to think that maybe I can't really see him as that kind of constant, if that makes sense." Your brows furrowed in thought. The boat you were on rocked roughly with the waves, the water turbulent and unsteady, as if at any moment it could throw you off. But you were used to the rocking, and you weren't sure why you should be so used to it. Settling for Yangyang even though you were beginning to realize that he probably wasn't The One? That was like staying docked in a home port you'd grown used to when you yearned for the horizon.

You heard Sunwoo crack his knuckles, and perhaps there really was a certain sheen to his eyes then. "I don't want to put words in your mouth," he drawled carefully, "and I can't imagine how exactly you feel and I don't know your whole story. But it has to be hard when it feels like, I don't know, like people are moving on without you." The earnestness in his eyes made his dark brown eyes deeper and richer. "And maybe it's comfortable with Yangyang and you want to try with him because you know that you two will always somehow find each other again."

"You kind of put what I was thinking into coherent sentences there," you mused, the corners of your lips curling upward.

Sunwoo reflected your expression. "That's good to hear, because I was pretty sure I sounded arrogant."

You laughed then, shaking your head. "No, I appreciated that. And you got it right." Breathing a sigh, you saw a waiter coming by to drop off the food the two of you had ordered. "I think it's just taken me some time with myself and with—with other people to make me realize it."

He glanced up with thanks as the waiter passed you your meals, and you swore you saw his hand make a move to reach for yours across the table. But he stopped short, and instead, helped move your hot bowl of soup over to you. "You never know," he said sheepishly, "The One could be right under your nose."

— ✶

eric 🤨: dude where did u go??? cobie hyung and i looked up and u disappeared into thin air

eric 🤨: omg jisung said u went somewhere w a GIRL??? IS THIS THE GIRL U WERE GETTING ALL DRUNK AND SAD ABT 👀

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

Sunwoo made a face around his toothbrush as he spat the frothy white into the sink bowl. “For the millionth time, yes.” Through the mirror, Sunwoo watched Eric’s face as his roommate perched himself atop the kitchen counter and went quiet, his face pensive. After coming home to Eric’s confrontation, Sunwoo promised to explain it all in the morning to him.

It was unfortunately the morning, meaning Sunwoo had spent the past hour bringing Eric up to speed on his nonexistent love life. Fortunately, it was also a Wednesday morning, which meant you had just posted your newest episode of the podcast, and Sunwoo could force Eric to listen to it with him. A part of him was tense at the thought of no longer “gatekeeping” his little secret that he had kept for the past several months, but this was Eric, one of his best friends. Maybe this would lift a weight off of Sunwoo’s chest by finally telling someone.

“...I’m still in the thrall of dead week,” your voice blasted from the speaker of Sunwoo’s phone at high volume, “and it’s come to my attention that next quarter will probably be a lot for me. I guess this is me forewarning you all that I might be late with some episodes because I’ve got this new internship thing.”

Sunwoo dunked his face into the sink bowl as he splashed water over his lathered foam cleanser. “She’s talking about her internship at the performing arts center.”

“How do you—never mind, forget I asked.”

Sunwoo patted his face dry, then opened the medicine cabinet for all of the skincare products he used to start off the day.

“...It’s been awhile since I’ve recommended something myself, so today, do enjoy ‘gone too long’ by lullaboy with me.” The song began a few seconds after you queued it up, and the apartment was then filled with muted vocals and strings.

Sunwoo straightened. He and Eric went quiet for a while as they both let the song sink in. Sunwoo continued to slather sunscreen on his face and neck, and Eric had started up the stove to make a batch of ramen for the both of them.

A peculiar sensation draped itself over Sunwoo’s shoulders, a blanket of something that wasn’t quite calm and wasn’t quite jittery. He didn’t know how to pinpoint or label the weird tightness in his chest. The song was strangely intimate, as almost all the music Sunwoo listened to was, but when it came from another person, it was always a whole new level of intimate. Whenever someone recommended a song, it was a way to view a piece of them—perhaps not a large piece, but a piece nonetheless. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then music was the viewfinder.

Maybe he missed you. But that didn’t make sense—it… it couldn’t make sense. He saw you yesterday, and he was listening to you now. How could he miss you?

“She has good taste,” Eric murmured as the song faded out.

Sunwoo nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah. She does.”

“...Hopefully when you miss me you’ll play that song,” he heard you say in a lighthearted tone, even though he felt almost like the complete opposite. “On that note, Rhaps sent in a message asking about the dance showcase coming up! ‘Are you planning on going, and if so, any acts you’re looking forward to? Isn’t it crazy that we could be sitting next to each other and never even know?’ —”

Eric perked up, his head peering over his shoulder to look at Sunwoo as he came out of the bathroom to join Eric in the kitchen. “That’s you? Rhaps?”

“Rhapsody Anonymous,” Sunwoo corrected. “And don’t judge me!” He added with a pointed look, finger jabbing in Eric’s direction.

Eric shook his head with a giddy sort of grin. “I didn’t say anything.”

For a moment, the two boys went quiet with only your voice and the sounds of the stove keeping them company.

A thought occurred to Eric though, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Does it ever feel like lying?” He asked and gestured for Sunwoo to grab a couple of bowls from the cabinet.

Sunwoo walked over with the soup bowls, then leaned his hip against the counter next to Eric. “Does what feel like lying?”

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

Well… Sunwoo idly scratched his jaw. “I guess I never thought about it like that,” he said. All this time, he’d figured it was probably better that he didn’t bring it up to you. After all, you used a pseudonym for a reason and didn’t show your face. Maybe this was just supposed to be your secret passion project that you used as a safe space. He didn’t want to burst your bubble by confronting you with that information. How would he even go about doing it? Oh hey, by the way, I’ve known that you’re this podcast host DJ Dove for a very long time? That probably had ‘awkward’ written all over it.

Eric passed him a pointed glance. “Something to think about then.”

— ✶

Finals week had come and gone, a hurricane of destruction in its own right. But when the storm passed, it gave way to the beautiful cherry blossoms blooming in the quad. As per university tradition, the quad was filled to the brim with students, staff, and tourists alike gathering to pose in the falling pink petals that marked the coming of Spring Break. This was no different for Sunwoo’s friend group who was dragged out to the event by none other than Choi Chanhee. In an effort to appease his friend in some aspect, Sunwoo had come dressed in something decently presentable: black cargo pants, blue denim jacket, and his face fitted in a pair of dark frames (that were definitely not just frames or missing the lenses…).

He shoved his hands into his pockets after taking a peak at the time on his watch. The group had been here for about ten minutes thus far, and half of them had already split off with their significant others to take their own rounds about the quad. They weren't the only ones—in fact, there were probably as many couples as there were people taking grad photos and cosplay photos.

And wait, someone had come in their wedding dress—nothing spelled out Sunwoo's singleness more potently than a couple getting married.

He took a panoramic glance and accidentally watched another couple go in for a kiss. He looked away with a slight frown, blowing a curl out of his eyes. "I hate this more than Valentine's Day," he grumbled.

From beside him, Kevin Moon sighed as he tested a shot with his camera and had to adjust the settings for the right exposure. "You're telling me." When he raised his camera up again, he immediately had to bring it back down with a deadpan expression, "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."

As the group's self-proclaimed Dad, Lee Sangyeon, summoned the attention of the boys who were present for a partial group photo. Sunwoo smiled for it, then returned to his frown. Chanhee had his camera held up as he attempted to take a selfie shot since he had been staking out this one tree trunk that a group of people had just left. Sunwoo had to admire the way Chanhee wordlessly swooped in like a vulture over a dead carcass.

"Aye, Kim Sunwoo," Chanhee exclaimed and beckoned Sunwoo over with a curl of his two fingers. Chanhee's head scanned the immediate area and his nose wrinkled when he realized he was missing someone. "Where did Changmin go? He was literally right… ah."

Chanhee's voice trailed off and a sly, little grin when he located the man in question. "Look."

Sunwoo followed Chanhee's gaze across the field to where he was sneaking up behind a familiar person. Sunwoo had met this girl twice, once when he and Changmin had gone looking for Jacob and the other when he went with Changmin to go see her for moral support. Both times, strangely, had been at the lab. Huh, did she even go home…?

But then Sunwoo observed the way Changmin and CM!Yn looked at each other. Though Sunwoo had seen Changmin's eyes light up before, this was a different sort of twinkle, something softer. There had always been a cloud hanging over Changmin when it came to this girl, always some kind of bittersweetness that held him back. It made a smile crawl onto his lips at the sight of Changmin so happy.

"Wah," Chanhee murmured in awe. "They really mended their relationship well, don't you think?"

Sunwoo pursed his lips with an indulgent nod. "Yeah, I'd think so."

His friend sighed. "Oh, well. Looks like it's just us two then."

Sunwoo stepped forward and took Chanhee's phone from him, swiftly changing it to the forward facing camera. Chanhee struck a few poses beneath the blush pink trees as he soaked in the golden hour sunlight streaking across the lawn. Eventually, Sunwoo turned the camera back around to take shots of both himself and Chanhee.

He adjusted the phone so that the selfie mode could capture both of them when he spotted Chanhee scuttling back over toward him with a pile of pink petals collected in his palms.

Sunwoo's eyes went wide and he leapt backward away from his grinning friend. "Hyung, come on, let's talk about this."

Chanhee cackled and inched forward still. His hair was the exact same color as the flowers cupped in his palms. "Sunwoo-ah," he sang, "I think your hair needs a bit of color."

"I just did my hair this morning!" He whined and pleaded desperately. The last thing he needed was to be plucking stray petals from his curls later tonight. When Chanhee still wouldn't quit, adrenaline began to pump through Sunwoo's veins in anticipation for what he needed to do next. "Chanhee hyung! We can be civil about this."

"Civility is overrated!"

Just as Chanhee pounced, Sunwoo swerved on the ball of his foot and made a mad dash toward the other side of the quad. Chanhee's giggles filled the late afternoon air like the twinkling of bells, and though it was probably an amusing sight for onlookers, Sunwoo was running for his life.

Sunwoo pumped his legs furiously as he weaved in between people standing and taking their pictures, screaming out apologies for photobombing them as he went. And when he nearly tripped over someone's dog, he managed to lock eyes with yours.

You. Oh my god, you were here.

He had little time to fully comprehend what he was about to do, but he made a beeline for you.

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

Sunwoo grabbed your shoulders and careened himself behind you, his face partially hidden behind yours. "I'm sorry, but—" he screeched, "—he's threatening to ruin my hair!"

Chanhee laughed as he stopped in front of you and Sunwoo. His pale cheeks were dusted with the color of the flowers in the air. "Ah, well, hello. This isn't very gentlemanly of you, Sunwoo. Who's this?" He threw Sunwoo a look over your shoulder.

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

Sunwoo laughed sheepishly and let go of your shoulders to clasp the back of his neck. It was only then he realized you were wearing a delicate, pastel sundress with cherry blossoms littered in your own hair. A gentle breeze wafted by and through your skirt and brushed back a few strands of your hair too.

Pretty…

"This is," he stammered, snapping out of his daze, "Yn. Yn-ie, this is one of my close friends, Chanhee."

"It's nice to meet you," Chanhee said with a warm smile and slight bow of his head.

You gave a little wave. "Nice to meet you, too, despite the circumstances."

"I would wave back," Chanhee gestured with his hand of flowers, "but this is a nice pile, don't you think?"

To your credit, you played along. You laughed, "I totally agree. It definitely should not be wasted on giving me a wave. Though, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to get back at Sunwoo." You turned your head and cocked a brow at him, to which he smiled back boyishly.

Chanhee considered you again for a moment. "I like your style. I guess I'll just… leave you to it then," he drawled and sent Sunwoo very pointed glances with his eyes toward you. Something about the way Chanhee's eyes narrowed minutely made Sunwoo want to hide behind you again.

Chanhee whistled a merry tune as he went on his way, leaving you and Sunwoo to your own devices as he probably went to go find his next victim.

"I'm so sorry about that," Sunwoo lamented as soon as Chanhee was out of ear shot. "I did not mean to make you a human shield."

You chuckled. "It's okay, dude, really. Definitely didn't think I'd find anyone I knew in this mess, so it's nice seeing you out here."

Sunwoo gave you yet another once over and felt heat crawl up the column of his neck. "I—you look really pretty," he said, gesturing to your outfit.

"Oh, thank you," you chirped. "You clean up quite well yourself."

The two of you shared a smile then and for a second, Sunwoo's mouth went dry and no words leapt from his tongue. They all remained lodged in his throat where his heartbeat went pitter-patter.

He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with you for a moment.

You made a vague nod toward one of the open benches lining the perimeter of the quad, an invitation. "Wanna come sit with me?"

"Do I?" Yes. The answer was yes.

When you and Sunwoo were seated side by side, centimeters separating your arms and legs from touching the other, his heart still had not settled. The adrenaline, in fact, also had her to dissipate. With wide eyes, he soaked everything in.

"Did you go to the winter showcase on Friday night?" He blurted, turning to you.

You met his gaze. "I did. It was such a cool experience, especially since it was my first time. Did you?"

He nodded, locking his lips. "I did, yeah," he murmured. "I had a couple friends performing, so we all went to cheer them on. It's always a really great time though; I'm glad you got to go."

"Oh, that's nice. I always find dancers so impressive," you said with a wistful gleam in your eyes. "Do you dance?"

He found himself fidgeting with Chanhee's phone that he still held onto in his lap. "A little," he admitted bashfully. "I took an intro to hip-hop class last year, and I sometimes dance with my friends. Just—not in public," he said.

For a second, something flickered across your face. But he must have been dreaming because it was gone as quickly as it came.

"So music and dance? You're a multi-talented threat, Sunwoo."

"Aw, not really," he giggled. He wanted to hide his burning face in the collar of his jacket, but there was something about you that also made him unafraid to show you this side of him. Actually, you made this side of him come out. He wasn't usually so terribly shy, always tumbling over his words and doing diction cartwheels… communications major, his ass. "What about you? You're literally a musical genius. You should be on my Spotify Wrapped, Yn."

This time, he could relish in making you flustered. "Aye, you can't say that and expect me not to wanna…" You lost your own words, biting your tongue.

He didn't know what got into him, but he leaned forward closer to you. "Expect you not to what?" He asked lowly, teasingly.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and he swore his own rapidly-beating organ was going to come flying out of his chest.

"Expect me not to—steal your glasses!" With a high-pitched squeal, you snatched the lensless frames from right off his nose.

Sunwoo gasped in scandal, diving to grab them back, but you had already stood up from the bench. "Yah! Those were expensive frames!"

Your face lit up as you donned them. "You'll have to take it off my face then!"

"Bet!" And he lurched after you as you took off into the setting sun.

Your voices echoed across the quad: "Jisuuuuuung! Jisung, save me!"

"Jisung can't save you when he's scared of me!"

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

"It's not a date!" Sunwoo stopped abruptly in the middle of his living room where he had been wearing a hole in the wood floors from pacing. He whirled on his sock-clad heels to face his sofa of judges, Changmin and Chanhee. Eric was out with his girlfriend watching the newest action movie that had come out over Spring Break. "She would say if it was a date, right?"

Chanhee smacked his palm against his forehead with a puff of air. Changmin, however, leaned back on the couch with a ponderous look on his face and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "She probably would. She seems like she has more balls than you."

"Hey!"

Changmin grinned. "Just saying." He then leaned down to pick up his duffle bag sitting at his feet. "I've gotta run now, but let me know how it goes."

Sunwoo leveled a scowl at him as he passed by to go to the door. "I hope CM!Yn trips you in the practice room."

"Into her arms!" He hollered back, which was swiftly followed by the front door slamming shut.

While Changmin was headed out to meet CM!Yn at the practice room for her first time returning to dance after three years, Sunwoo and Chanhee were left to prepare Sunwoo for today's agenda. Yesterday, you and he had traded numbers, to which you had immediately asked if he'd wanted to hang out with you some more over Spring Break. The answer had been as easy as counting to three.

Now the only problem was to not freak out over it.

"You're picking up lunch, aren't you?" Chanhee asked as he shoved Sunwoo into the bathroom.

Sunwoo nodded shallowly and picked up his round brush and blow-dryer. "Mhm. I'm meeting her at the performing arts building, and we're gonna take the metro up to Lake Anchor. Ever been up there?"

Chanhee fixed the collar of Sunwoo's white button-up, then snatched the brush and blowdryer out of his hands to do it for him. "Nope. Heard it's nice up there though."

"Yeah," Sunwoo muttered, nearly dropping the serum bottle in his hands. "She said her friend Sieun recommended it."

"Ah."

It wouldn't have felt like a date as much if Sunwoo hadn't searched up Lake Anchor when you'd texted him about it last night. The place was gorgeous, a certified calendar-worthy landscape with purple mountain majesties in the back and shores lined with emerald green hills and willow trees. It didn't help that the Reddit pages all deemed it a "couple's picnic spot you can't miss." Oh, he wasn't going to miss it, all right.

Thirty minutes later, he found himself outside the doors to the performing arts center where you said you were currently taking a tech lesson from Bang Chan. He had a paper bag of snacks and sandwiches from the local convenience store in one hand and the other tucked away into his pocket.

He wondered if he could go in and see you, but he'd already texted you he was waiting outside, and you'd replied you were on your way out.

Just as he was about to go sit on one of the benches, one of the doors at the entrance opened. You emerged out into the late spring morning with the breeze in your hair, a tote bag slung over one shoulder, and a ukulele case hanging from the other. You smiled wide at him and waved.

Sunwoo's lips parted into a grin. "Hi. I got us snacks," he said and lifted the brown bag in his hand.

"Sunwoo, you didn't have to," you pursed your lips fondly, adjusting your bag straps.

"I wanted to." The two of you fell into step in the direction of the closest metro station. It would be a short walk from here into the university Avenue, and down a block to the station. Everything was conveniently placed in the name of accessibility. "Plus, I didn't really eat breakfast," he admitted.

"Me neither." You cupped half your face with your palm. "Aish. I always forget I have, like, yogurt in the fridge, y'know?"

Sunwoo chuckled. "Yeah, I get that. My roommate and I always forget that we have groceries in the fridge because we always see the ramen packets on the counter instead. How was the lesson with Chan?"

The two of you stopped at the intersection to wait for the light. You hugged your ukulele to your chest. "It was good! He's always really helpful and knowledgeable—and patient," you mused. "I hope you don't mind me bringing my uke along though. I thought it would be a nice form of entertainment once we got up to the lake."

"I'm not entertaining enough for you," he gasped melodramatically, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.

You laughed, and the sound made him break his pout and smile. "I thought I would be the entertaining one for once. D'you know how to play?"

The crosswalk sign turned on for you, and you both made your way across.

"I know some guitar," Sunwoo answered, "but just the basics. They teach you a bit at summer music camp." As he walked by your side, he felt his hand brush against the back of yours. "My hyung—Jacob—he plays guitar pretty well. He's good at singing, too, like you."

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

"He did it to woo his girlfriend," he jested, sticking his tongue in his cheek when he remembered how JC!Yn brought him and Haknyeon up to speed last quarter about her love life antics.

You chuckled. "That's a shame you know the trick," you said with an impish twinkle in your eyes, "because that was exactly my plan."

Sunwoo came to a screeching halt in the middle of the walkway, and when you realized he was still staring wide-eyed at the sidewalk, you let out a laugh and went back to drag him along to the station.

— ✶

The view was something out of a magazine, the kind that took one's breath away. You and Sunwoo had claimed the shade beneath a willow tree and settled down across from each other with the brown paper bag flattened out to display the feast he had purchased. There were other small groups of people around, as well, all of whom seemed to have the same ideas as you two as they soaked up sun, read books and napped in the shade, and picnicked along the grassy shoreline. There was even a small booth a mile down the bank that rented out swan-shaped paddle boats and canoes for people to take out onto the water.

You and Sunwoo had pretty much demolished all of the goodies he brought with him. The conversation had been flowing, simple and organic, and you felt at peace—that was the best way to describe it. Maybe it was the location, the circumstance, the company, or all three.

You picked up your ukulele from where it laid in its case by your side. "Any suggestions?" You queried, taking the instrument out and checking that it was in tune.

Sunwoo brushed his hands of crumbs and braced his palms on the grass behind him. It was the visual of him in that white shirt, his sleeves rolled up and collarbone exposed, jawline clean and sharp as he gazed out at the view that made your heart race again. "Hmm," he hummed, "what did you first learn on it?"

"I think I taught myself Lemonade by Jeremy Passion," you said to him and scoured your brain for the right chords. You strummed a G-flat minor, and when it sounded about right, you shifted to B, until you managed to jog your memory of all four chords.

He watched you with softened eyes, his knees pulled up to his chest now as he leaned his cheek onto the tops of his knees. "That's a good song," he murmured.

"Do you know the lyrics?"

He chuckled, shaking his head and flicking his wrist. "Oh, no, no. I don't sing."

"Doesn't sound like you can't," you quipped back with a teasing tilt in your smile. You swayed a little as you played the tune over and over again. "A little shy, are we?"

You could see the smile peeking from his lips even when he tried to hide it in his arms. "I don't sing a lot."

"If I sang the first verse, would you join me in the chorus?" You offered as a compromise. You wouldn't push after this if he still refused, but there was a part of you that felt like you needed to hear this beautiful man sing for you.

He balked for a second, toeing at the dirt. Then, "Okay. I'll join in at the chorus."

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

You were a little shaky going in yourself. Though you had definitely practiced this song more times than you could count, performing it for someone else was always like playing it for the first time. And you wanted Sunwoo to enjoy it, and to be impressed by you. You wanted to do well for him and to be able to encourage him.

As he said he would, you heard him join in at the chorus—softly, at first, until he was the main vocal and you could bolster him with the harmony.

His eyes met yours, all smiles, as the song continued on. The ending verse… dear god, you could fall over from pure giddiness at the way he nailed the runs and you could do a little showing off with your strumming. Shivers, just plain shivers.

"She's exactly what… I need," he crooned, fingers playing absentmindedly with a strand of grass.

You let the vibrations of the strings linger in the spring air for a moment. It was like the two of you were encased in this bubble all by yourselves; and it was beautiful. It was perfect.

"I knew you could sing," you said to him. "I just had a feeling."

He hung his head, but the smile on his face could not be suppressed. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For encouraging me," he shook his head. "Believing in me."

You pursed your lips together thoughtfully and you wished you could pick his brain without risking total invasion. "Do people not believe in you often?" You asked quietly, shifting to move yourself around the pile of rolled-up trash and to sit next to him.

He followed your lead, scooting himself next to you until you were no longer opposite, but adjacent. "Not people, just me, I think."

"Ah." You could empathize.

He gave a shallow nod. "Do you ever get scared of making a mistake so you don't—I dunno—go for it? And then you end up thinking that maybe not taking that risk was the mistake?"

You set your ukulele down in the case beside you and mirrored his position, arms looped around your legs. "I do. All the time actually, and it's a scary feeling."

"Yeah," he exhaled. "Sometimes I wish I had just gone into music, full-on. I mean, a communication major is useful and all, but there are times when I wonder where I would have been if I had nurtured that passion."

His words resonated within you. There was a reason why you transferred to this university and decided to leave your original plan behind. You had gone into college with an intent to major in Computer Science, but less than a year in, it had become abundantly clear to you how unhappy you were. Leaving wasn't just a choice, it had been a need.

You turned to look at Sunwoo and you felt your chest tug toward him. You bumped his leg with your knee. "You still have time," you said. "It's not too late to still see where that goes."

But you knew the conflict that warred in his head; you knew it all too well because you had experienced it firsthand. It was much more complicated than simply chasing after one's dreams. There was obligations, expectations, fears, and physical obstacles that made the situation more complex than it seemed at first glance. You didn't know his family situation, didn't know the whole story of why he hadn't taken his summer music camp experiences and translated it into his current college career.

You didn't know it all… but you wanted to. You wanted to know everything about him.

"You said you don't have a minor figured out yet, right?" You asked suddenly, an idea coming to you.

He hummed. "Yeah."

"Well, why don't you choose music as your minor?" When he didn't answer right away, you added, "You obviously don't have to decide right this second—it's just something to think about."

(It seemed he had a lot he needed to think about lately.)

Sunwoo rose up and leaned back onto his palms again. When he turned to look at you, a sense of calm had come over him this time. "I really appreciate you."

You broke into a smile. "I appreciate you, too."

"No, really," he laughed, then bit his lip. "I'm sorry for screwing the mood—"

"You're not! Really," you insisted. "I don't mind. I like having meaningful conversations with people who mean a lot to me."

He didn't even have to say anything, because there was this look, one you simply could not ignore. It made your stomach feel like it was swarmed with butterflies and that you were walking on air. It was like watching him smile while listening to the song you wrote, like walking out of the performing arts center to see him waiting for you. He didn't have to say anything because you knew—you had to. There simply could not be any other explanation, right?

EPISODE SEVEN: WHAT IF SOULS FEEL FAMILIAR FOR A REASON?

YOU had been keeping a secret.

"So what you're saying is that you know that he knows, but he doesn't know that you know that he knows?"

You nodded, arms crossed. "Yeah, pretty much."

Jisung made a face and rested his temple against his palm. "My brain hurts."

From where she was perched on a stool, Park Sieun reached over and patted Jisung's nest of hair. "It is a little confusing. Why don't you just confront him about it?"

"I don't know," you huffed and fell back against the wall. The three of you were holed up in one of the private studios on campus. There weren't many buildings opened since it was still Spring Break, but many of the performing arts facilities were. Jisung had offered for you and Sieun to meet him in the room he had snagged and had been currently occupying in order to bust out as much creative energy as possible. (Newsflash, it was not going well, hence, yours and Sieun's invitations.) Studio rooms were pretty much soundproof, so they were good for those in the music programs who wanted a private space to practice or record things.

You had just brought them up to speed on your latest outing with a certain Kim Sunwoo up to Lake Anchor, as Sieun had so graciously suggested to you the other day. After your outing, however, you'd come to one very solid conclusion.

Well, and there was the matter of The Anonymous Situation.

Just this morning, you had opened your inbox to find another submission from one of your regular anonymous listeners whom you affectionately nicknamed Rhaps. Rhapsody Anonymous had begun to pop up in your inbox just last quarter, and it wasn't until recently that you figured out who it was. At first, it seemed completely implausible for Sunwoo to be the face behind the name, because there was no way out of a whole internet of people that he had managed to stumble across your podcast.

To make matters more complex, you had an inkling that he also knew that you were the host of Songbird Station. He had sent you something along the lines of: "Hey Dovey! I stumbled across this song recently that I haven't heard in awhile. It's called Lemonade, and I realize that I've only actually heard the ukulele vers. LOL anyways, I hope you're not too busy this Spring Break and that you've had time to relax. I've always wondered though… have you ever met someone who feels familiar to you? Not like in a 'I've reunited with you after five years' kind of familiar, but like… something more like kindred spirits……"

The whole message had the same amount of sweetness he always used to contact and interact with you, but the recommendation of the song Lemonade simply could not be a mere coincidence. You just couldn't accept that.

You had pondered this for a long time—the possibility of confronting him about his anonymous persona. And of course, there were several things that held you back from doing so. "I mean," you began, pushing off from the wall to slowly pace the little room available, "I don't want to scare him, y'know? Like I'm sure there's a reason why he goes by a pseudonym like I do, and I don't want to burst that bubble.

"Plus," you continued, "what if I'm just thinking about this all wrong? What if I've read the signs completely out of proportion and he's not actually Rhapsody Anonymous? That would just be embarrassing."

You stopped in front of your friends with your hands positioned on your hips and your head quirked to the side in thought.

"Would it really be so bad if you brought it up, like, even subtly?" Sieun asked you, her pink-tinted lips pursed slightly.

Jisung piped up, too, "Yeah, Sunwoo's a pretty cool guy. And based on what I've seen between the two of you and what you've told us, I don't think he would laugh at you or anything."

"I don't think he would laugh at me either," you confessed. "It's just kinda scary."

The two murmured their agreement. Though Sieun was your trio's only extrovert, you actually had no idea how you'd come to be decently close friends with these two. You chalked it up to all frequenting similar social circles. The music program was always a good way to make friends, and you were glad that it had yet to fail you, even in college.

Sieun made a vague gesture with her hand. "I think you should try, though. I'm sure you'll find a way to slide it in," she chuckled.

Jisung snorted. "I have never seen that man so flustered in his life."

"Yeah, he has to be whipped for you, Yn-ie."

A cough from the boy in the room. "Not like you're any more whipped than he is."

"Han Jisung!" You reprimanded, heat swarming to your cheeks.

He broke into a boyish grin, eyes wide and alight like a chipmunk. "What? Don't give me the government name; you know it's true!"

Even Sieun was laughing behind her oh-so delicately placed hand. "He's got a point."

You sighed, wrinkling your nose. "I came for support, not a call out."

"Are those not the same things—AH, I'M SORRY DON'T WHACK ME—!"

— ✶

There was a place on the Avenue with the best lime soda, as Sunwoo had claimed, when the two of you coordinated to get lunch together. Because you had chosen the place of your last hangout, you'd insisted that he chose a place this time. By his texts, he had seemed pleasantly surprised to be hanging out again so soon, and while your nerves were high in anticipation for the coming conversation, you also couldn't wait to spend time with him some more.

You met outside the storefront of a Vietnamese restaurant that you'd only seen in passing, and had yet to try. You glanced up from your phone just as Sunwoo came up from down the road toward you, dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket.

"Hey, sorry to keep you waiting," he said as he swung the door open for you.

You and he ducked inside. "It's no worries," you assured him. "Hope you're not sick of me just yet."

You saw that boyish grin of his as he caught your eyes and signaled the waiter for a table for two. "Never."

When the two of you were seated, your eyes greedily took in the options laid out on the menu. There were just far too many appetizing items—maybe you should have scouted out the menu beforehand.

"Any favorites?" You queried from over the rim of your menu.

Sunwoo was slinging his shoulder bag over his head as you asked this. "Oh, uh, I've been hooked on their shrimp banh xeo ever since my friend Haknyeon introduced me to it. It's like a Vietnamese crepe with stir fried vegetables and a protein. But I think in general, everything is pretty good here."

You hummed. "Mmh, sounds good. And you said the lime soda is really good, too?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, for sure. That stuff is addicting."

You took his word for it, and soon, the two of you had finished ordering your lunch for the day. A part of you wished you didn't have to disturb the pleasantness of this one-on-one lunch date (was this a date?) with Sunwoo by bringing up the podcast, but what if by clearing the air, it would make your relationship stronger? (Or, it could end in a fiery, hot pile of shit!)

Either way, you would try to get to it as organically as possible.

"So I wanted to talk to you about something." Yes, because this is totally organic, Yn… You grabbed your cup of lime soda and played absentmindedly with the straw.

You gauged his reaction carefully. He perked up. "You—you wanted to talk to me about something?" He parroted, pointing his finger back at himself. "That's not usually good."

"Sorry, no, it's not bad!" You promised. On the way here, you had come up with about a dozen ways to go about this, but at the end of the day, there would only be a yes or no answer. "Do you, by chance, happen to listen to podcasts?"

There was that flicker of recognition over his face, and for a second, he reminded you of something like a puppy with how wide his eyes were. "Uhh," he drawled, scratching his head and feigning nonchalance, "I mean, sometimes. Like casually."

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

If sweat could be animated, that was what you imagined to be dripping down the side of Sunwoo’s face at this moment. He seemed to be figuring out a way to reply. “Would you believe me if I asked you what a Rhapsody Anonymous is?”

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

“Okay,” he relented, slumping over slightly. He seemed nervous, in a way, eyes looking anywhere but you, twirling his straw between his thumb and index finger, his foot tapping furiously against the linoleum floor. “I’m sorry! I didn’t really want to bring up the podcast to you because I thought that you enjoyed the anonymity, y’know?” He told you with an apologetic wince. “And I really liked listening to the show, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to interact with you anonymously, as well, and over time, I thought we’d kinda become friends.”

He peered up at you nervously, and guilt wormed its way into the trenches of your gut. From what it seemed, he must have really thought that you would react negatively to him knowing your podcast-hosting side show.

“We are friends,” you finally said and scooped a lock of hair out of your face. “I’m not like, mad, or anything; it was more of me trying to figure out why you felt so familiar to me. And I’m really honored that you liked my podcast enough to want to interact with me there. It means a lot.”

With your small smile, Sunwoo’s posture flooded with relief. “So you’re not mad that I figured out your identity?”

“Definitely not,” you shook your head. “If anything, I’m relieved. I’ve been wondering about your identity for a while now.”

The corners of Sunwoo’s mouth lifted. “That’s… that’s cool. This is really cool,” he said. He let out a sigh, leaning back to slump in his chair with a dramatic expression of anguish on his face. “You have no idea how much it’s been eating me up inside, Dovey! Like how do you balance your two identities? It takes so much energy for me to make sure I keep them separate.”

“I can tell; you weren’t exactly the most inconspicuous,” you teased.

He sat up. “What do you—”

“Well, you kind of told me things in person that you’ve told to me on anonymous, and vice versa.” You recalled to him the two main instances that gave him away to you. It was amusing to see the way he grew increasingly more flustered as you kept talking about it, but you realized that this was probably incredibly painful for him to hear.

Sunwoo had his head in his hands by the time you were done. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

He shifted slightly so that his cheek rested against one palm. “And to think that I was being all slick and secretive,” he pouted, scrunching up his nose. “You know, I always thought about being friends with you in real life. That one time that I told you about that one Taylor Swift song that reminded me of you?”

“Superstar?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” He meditated on that thought while sipping his drink. “It just felt right. Like you were far away but also right there in my ear. Does that make sense?”

You knew what the song was about; you could recite the lyrics by heart, and the fact that he associated that song with you… It sent your heart a-flutter. “It does.”

He jolted up so suddenly you nearly fell out of your seat with him. “Not that I’m desperately in love with you or anything,” he added quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as fast as he mentally skimmed through the lyrics again and again. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and you were sure that your neck looked as hot as it felt.

You pretended your heart didn’t drop to the pit of your stomach when he said that. You laughed along with him, though you weren’t sure why it sounded like it did. “Oh, right, right. I didn’t think that; don’t worry.” All the butterflies in your stomach drooped.

Sunwoo scrambled to find the right words. “I just mean that I always felt like some average Joe, and you were…” He gestured to you helplessly, “you.”

Your heart couldn’t help but give a sharp pang at that.

“And how could I ever be anything more to you than just another listener in your stats, y’know?”

You never thought that you would have ever given off that kind of vibe toward listeners, or come to mean that much to any members of your audience. It had seemed simply impossible for you to ever become large enough to evoke that kind of feeling in people—a popstar to their fans. You folded your arms over the table and leaned toward him. “Sunwoo, you were never just another listener. You made yourself known to me and you made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

He slowly met your eyes, and you sat up straighter, reaching toward the paper straw wrapper to fidget with. “I originally started this podcast because I needed a place to talk. After feeling like people were always moving on without me, I was trying to search for validation, and I found that in podcasting. I figured that maybe… if I was feeling these things, then there had to be someone out there who was feeling them, too.

“And the song recommendation and music talk was always a nice bonus,” you added. “I had people send in anonymous submissions, but never as frequently as you did, and it made me feel like I was reaching somebody. Not just a random hit every so often, but somebody.”

Sunwoo’s eyes shone in the artificial lighting inside the restaurant, and outside your little bubble, you barely registered the noises around you. It was just you and Sunwoo in this moment in time and space. He swallowed. “You’re really cool, you know that?”

You grabbed your cup of lime soda and softly knocked it against his. “That’s all you, superstar.”

— ✶

Lunch had progressed much smoother after you had confronted Sunwoo, to say the least. You were convinced, however, that you had to meet this Haknyeon character he kept telling you about. He was the one to recommend the Vietnamese restaurant, and he was going to be your new favorite person. (Sorry, Sunwoo.)

When both you and Sunwoo had finished up with lunch, you didn’t want to cut your time with him short and asked him if he’d ever been up to the Farmer’s Market north of the Ave.

“There’s a Farmer’s Market over there?” His mouth gaped as he let you lead him a couple blocks north.

You grinned, tipping your head up to the sky to soak in the last bits of sunlight before it was about to be blanketed over by gray clouds. “Yeah! It’s really neat. They’ve got one going every week, I think.”

The walk up was an easy one as it was a straight shot from the restaurant to the intersection where white picket fences were set up to barricade the street for vendors to set up in. Pop-up tents of different colors and sizes lined either side of the street as people milled about going from vendor to vendor. This had been one of the few gems you’d found when you transferred here, and though you didn’t often visit, you tried to buy at least a couple things to support the local businesses. The fruit here tasted much better than the ones in-stores, anyway.

You and Sunwoo slipped past the fences and into the throng of people, and you watched his face light up in awe as he took in the sights and smells. There were people selling beaded bracelets and art, farmers tossing blueberries into kids’ mouths… it was a lively slice of community here.

“Wow, this is incredible,” he said, but suddenly stopped short. “Oh my god, they’re selling melon pops, Yn-ie!” He pointed out a stand a little further down the way that he had peered over a few heads for. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. “Come on! I’ll treat you to one.”

It wasn’t like you were going to refuse him.

Within another few minutes, you and Sunwoo had both acquired one melon popsicle each. It was adorable to see him bouncing along on the balls of his feet like a kid on Christmas morning as he lapped up the light green juice dripping down the side of the frozen treat.

“—look how pretty those sunflowers are!” He gasped at one of the stands to your left selling bundles of different flowers.

An idea popped into your head, and you scurried over to the booth and traded a two dollar bill for one of the baby sunflowers. You whirled around to where Sunwoo stood and waited for you. “Stand still,” you said while reaching up to tuck the flower behind his ear.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick picture of him.

Sunwoo’s eyes had gone wide, his cheekbones the same color as the roses in the bundles behind you. “What… just happened,” he asked, blinking, then came over to poke your shoulder to get your attention. He peered over at your phone screen to see that you were setting the photo you took as his new contact photo. He let out a hum, “Wow.”

“It’s cute.” You let him see the picture.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen before finally giving it a nod of approval. “Okay, good enough.”

You scoffed, lightly hitting his arm with the back of your hand. “Good enough? I think it’s perfect.” You finished off the rest of your melon pop and tossed the stick in a nearby trash bin.

(If you’d looked up from your phone at that moment, you would have seen the utter bliss on Sunwoo’s face after hearing you compliment a picture of him and calling it “perfect.” To him, absolutely nothing could ruin this day, this moment, this year for him—!)

One raindrop fell onto your phone screen, followed by another, and another, and ano--

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

“It’s raining,” you observed dumbly, reaching a palm out to feel the pitter-patter of the sky’s tears on your skin. Others around you were beginning to notice, too, either huddling under their nearest tent or the overhangs of establishments lined on the sidewalk.

You figured somebody must have pissed the weather off because the rain only began to drum harder against the world.

"Well, shit," you laughed and patted Sunwoo on the back of his shoulder to move him toward the side of the road. "Let's find shelter!"

The two of you joined the crowd as you scrambled past the tents and up onto the sidewalks. Some people simply went into the shops themselves, but you and Sunwoo took a moment to stare out at the once-clear sky. Strange how springtime weather worked.

Sunwoo finished off his popsicle and found a trash bin to toss the stick into. He ran a hand through his dampened locks, then dragged that same palm down his face. "D'you like a little rain, dove?"

The nickname caught you off-guard for a second, but not as badly as seeing the soft-cornered smile on his face.

You cleared your throat. "I don't mind it. How about you?"

He made a frown at the sky as if he could reprimand nature for crashing the date—wait, this wasn't a date, was it? "It would have been nice if the weather report was accurate for once, but a little walk in the rain never hurt anybody."

You voiced your agreement. The next course of action you both decided on was making the long trek home in the rain together. You tried to stay out of the shower as best as you could, but there definitely weren't enough overhangs to get you home completely dry.

At one of the intersections, Sunwoo looked over at you through his dripping wet bangs. "You don't have a jacket."

On instinct, you glanced down at your bare arms, only clad in a T-shirt. "Oh, I guess I don't," you mused.

"Here—" he shouldered off the black bomber jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

"Yes, you can," he laughed and shook his head out. The light turned green to cross, and he wrapped an arm around you to keep you steady along the rain-slicked street.

The jacket and arm around you were both warm, but you had a feeling that even without the jacket, his arm would have been more than enough.

When you'd made it to your apartment complex and bursted into the front lobby, you and Sunwoo practically stood in your own self-made puddles. You took the jacket off from around your shoulders and shook it out; it was a shoddy attempt to get the water out, but at least the material was semi-waterproof on the outside.

"Here you…" Your throat went dry as you made to hand his jacket back to him and zeroed in on the way his wet, white T-shirt stuck flush against his skin. There was no other way to describe it but as see through, and there was no way in hell you were going to be able to erase that defined stomach from your mind. "...Go."

You coughed as you looked away, and he accepted his jacket back with a low "Thanks."

When he zipped his jacket up, you nodded toward the elevator. "Do you wanna come up and dry off before you go out? You can totally borrow my umbrella if you want, too."

He shook his head. "No, it's okay. My apartment's not far, I swear."

"Ah, alright. Get home safe then." You paused, then added, "Text me once you get back?"

Sunwoo flashed you a smile, and man, if you could engrave that smile, the wet hair, into your brain… "Promise. I'll see you soon, superstar."

He reached over and ruffled your hair, then ducked out of your apartment into the rain. Just before he was out of your sight, he turned back and waved at you through the front windows.

You let out an exhale once he had disappeared. A fuzzy feeling lingered in your chest, your smile never leaving your face. You were so far gone.

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

ALTHOUGH Spring Break had swept through the university faster than it came, Sunwoo could still say he felt like he was riding on Cloud 9. The beginning of the quarter was easily a more relaxed part of the term, but Spring quarter itself was a whole other nightmare in itself. Everyone around him was beginning to wake up from their break-dazed slumbers to clamber their asses back into uncomfortable lecture chairs and study rooms.

It was the first Tuesday back from Spring Break when he found out you were going to be in a practice room alone for a while, working on a new project. This intel had been courtesy of one Han Jisung, who had been texting Sunwoo off and on about a track he had been mixing with Chan.

han !!: yeah just left cuz my brain was feelin super fried 🤣 dunno how ynies still there

sunwoo's phone: oh fr?? she's still over there?

han !!: yuh bro that's what i just said

han !!: r u gonna do anything abt it 👀😳

sunwoo's phone: i have no clue what ur talking abt

han !!: okay bye chicken

sunwoo's phone: u did not just call me chicken.

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

Sunwoo walked out of his room and stood in the middle of the apartment, staring blankly at the back of Eric's head. His roommate was seated on the couch setting up a movie, and when he sensed someone was staring at him, he began to say, "Baby!—wait a minute."

Eric made a face. "Never mind, it's just you."

Sunwoo scoffed and flopped onto the opposite end of the couch. "Rude! Before EC!Yn, I used to be your one and only."

"That's actually so incorrect—"

"Do you boys ever not cat-fight?" EC!Yn mused as she came out from the bathroom and found a seat between Eric and Sunwoo. Eric instantly curled an arm around her and pulled her into his side.

Sunwoo considered this with a frown. Why was he so single? "You're lucky I tolerate your boyfriend, EC!Yn," said Sunwoo as he folded his arms over his chest and sunk into the shadows of his hoodie.

"I'm glad you've come to like me more than your own best friend," she drawled in jest. "What's got you in the dumps, my friend?"

Eric perked up, pressing the play button on the TV remote to start the movie. "Oh yeah! You were in such a good mood this morning."

A grumble from the lump of hoodie. "It's nothing."

A moment of silence passed. Then, "He misses Yn."

"I think so, too."

"Do you think if we texted her to text him, he would at least smile?"

"Oh, I think I found her Instagram the other day—"

Sunwoo peered out of his hoodie with narrowed eyes. "I can hear you guys, you know that, right?"

Both Eric and his partner shot him impish grins, delighted that their very obvious conversation brought him out of silence. The thought forced a smile onto Sunwoo's face anyway. Eric's baseball game had been canceled today because the team who they were going up against this week had internal problems (something about an affair between coaches and players—it was complicated). Thus, Eric had decided to fill his afternoon with an impromptu movie session with his girlfriend. Sunwoo was invited by roommate obligation.

There were definitely more productive things that Sunwoo could have been doing (finding a minor, finding a job, finding the answers to his cognitive psych homework, etcetera), but watching… Wait, what were they even watching?

EC!Yn reached over and nudged his shoulder with her knuckles. "Hey, Earth to Kim Sunwoo."

He shook out of his daze. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He sighed, pulling out his phone. "Jisung just told me that Yn's at the practice room working still."

"Still?"

"Yeah," he bobbed his head. "They've been there ever since they finished their composition class this morning."

Eric lowered the volume on the TV. "Dude, you should go keep her company."

Sunwoo's eyes shot open as he began mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. "I don’t wanna bother her; she probably doesn’t wanna be bothered if she’s been working for so long.” The thought had crossed his mind to head over to the practice rooms right now and sit in for a session, but he had shut his own idea down almost immediately. Would you appreciate him going to bug you or would you mind him just going to sit with you and enjoy your presence?

“I was thinking the exact opposite,” said EC!Yn, “I mean, whenever Eric comes over unannounced to come sit with me at the dorm, I appreciate it all the time.”

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

Sunwoo blinked and was suddenly glad he was staring down at his phone and not the couple on the couch next to him. But he glanced up to catch EC!Yn’s eyes. “Do you really think she wouldn’t mind?”

When Eric tucked his face into her neck, she idly scratched his head. “Oh, definitely. I think it’ll be a nice surprise, considering she probably feels the same about you, based on what you’ve already told us.”

“You’re right!” Sunwoo shot up off the couch, but halted. “Wait, she what?”

Eric snorted. “She said that Yn probably feels the same about you, which, if I’m being honest, I can’t believe—”

Sunwoo dashed into his room to grab his wallet and keys. “Nobody asked you!”

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

Sunwoo couldn't quite think straight with the giddy anticipation bubbling in his stomach and up his chest as he balanced twin cups of iced americano in his hands. Taking the bus to the School of Music would have been less effort on his legs, but waiting for it simply did not sit with the amount of energy currently carrying him down the street and up the stairs and across the quad like a madman.

People were probably eyeing him weirdly, but he was trying to come up with things to say to you. Preferably, these things were smooth and not strange fragments that weren't properly strung together. He wanted to look put together, to sound put together.

He was probably going to look frazzled, though, from half-running a mile uphill, but that was okay—he was excited to see you.

The School of Music stood right across from the School of Art building, the twin towers looming above the quad stairs. With school back in session, there were plenty of people milling about the entrance, and somebody graciously opened the door for Sunwoo so he didn't have to awkwardly balance his coffees and risk spilling them to get inside. He hadn't often visited this building, but he had been in here before to visit friends and upperclassmen. Though the architecture was grander, it still had the homey feeling of a high school band room, some place music students could call home.

Sunwoo navigated himself toward the practice rooms in the back hallways, murmuring "excuse me"s and apologies as he sidestepped string bassists and bassoons and snare drums. (He could've sworn there was a whole drum kit in one of these; it was strange seeing someone carrying around a single snare… huh.)

He reached the corridor to turn right into the practice hall when he froze, diving back behind the wall.

"—wait, Yangyang—"

Something in him sunk deep into the pit of his stomach, an anchor to the sea floor. He watched you launch out of your practice room and into Yangyang's arms, both of you hugging each other closely. He had his arms wrapped around you and his cheek against the crown of your head.

Sunwoo couldn't hear what you were saying to each other—if you were saying anything at all.

And you didn't let go. Not yet, at least.

When you did finally let go, the two of you were beaming at each other. It was near impossible to make out what kind of emotion was there from so far away, but Sunwoo couldn't look anymore when Yangyang leaned in towards you—

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

He struggled to swallow; there was a large lump sitting in his throat that he had to wrestle down.

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

Before you or Yangyang could come down this way, Sunwoo retraced his steps from where he came until he was back outside. He sucked in a breath, mind abuzz.

He set down the cups of iced coffee, now perspiring, on a ledge nearby, so he could pull out his phone.

It rang twice. "Yo."

"Are you practicing right now?" Sunwoo asked, leaning his body against the railing. His free hand held his face as his brain replayed the events he had just witnessed. Did that mean what he thought he meant? You were totally allowed to see other people—the two of you weren't exclusive—but goddamn, did that hurt to think about.

Was he too late? Had he chickened out so long that you decided to move on, or was he never in the running in the first place?

He heard a bit of shuffling from the other side, then a sigh from Changmin. "Now I'm not. What's up?"

"I'm coming over."

A pause. "...Okay, see you soon."

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

THERE was something different in the air and you could taste it. Not literally, of course, but you figured your paranoia had manifested strong enough within you to be able to sniff these kinds of things out. "These things" referred to the slight difference in the way you interacted with Sunwoo, or rather, how Sunwoo interacted with you.

You turned your phone off again, having checked it for what felt like the fifth time in the past two minutes. Usually, he replied relatively fast, but for the past week or so, he'd been a little more delayed. He didn't text dry, which was a relief, but there was something off about it. You couldn't articulate it too well—it was just a gut feeling.

"Oy, phone away, Yn," Sieun ordered, snapping her fingers and holding her hand out across the table.

You sent her a look, but reluctantly handed your phone over to her. "But—"

"No buts!" She tutted. She hid your phone within the confines of her purse before promptly returning to the warm bowl of biang biang noodles in front of her. "The more you check your phone, the sadder of a sap you look."

"Thanks," you deadpanned, but followed her lead and picked up your chopsticks to eat your food.

The two of you were seated in, arguably, the best Chinese restaurant on the Avenue. It had become a fast favorite of yours when you first transferred, saved for the long days and weeks when you needed something like spice to make you feel anything other than sad. Sieun had suggested coming down here for dinner rather than staying in and eating another round of instant ramen. It was something she knew would cheer you up easily, and so far, it was only half working.

You reached for your water, only to realize it was practically empty.

As if she could read your mind, the waitress taking care of your table appeared at your side and filled your water up for you.

"Oh, thank you!" Your eyes glanced over at her name tag—HN!Yn—and met her kind eyes.

"Of course. Anything else I can get you two?" She asked cheerily, swiftly filling up Sieun's cup, as well, with practiced grace. "Food's good?"

Both you and Sieun nodded your heads vigorously, especially since both of your mouths were now full and you couldn't speak. She seemed to get the idea and hustled over to a nearby table to tend to them. How waiters and waitresses always knew when you had food in your mouth, you could never figure out. It was always absolutely awful timing, but you supposed the skill was akin to Starbucks workers butchering name spellings.

When you finally swallowed your bite, you chased it with a gulp of water. "I don't think I did anything wrong," you said to your friend, pushing around the saucy rice in your bowl with the tips of your chopsticks.

Sieun covered her mouth. "I don't think so either," she replied, eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe he's just busy? It could be that he got a job or something, or school work is piling up."

You frowned. You thought he would have let you know he was going to be a bit busier, but at the same time, he didn't owe you anything. You just worried about him and hoped he wasn't overworking himself. It didn't help that you missed hanging out with him; it didn't feel like it used to between you just last week.

From behind you, you heard the door to the restaurant open and close with a loud smack! The door to the restaurant was awfully loud when it closed, unless it was carefully done. Something about the angle at which it was constructed, or something like that.

Sieun's brows flew up. "Speak of the devil," she muttered with her food pushed into her cheek.

"Hm?" You hummed and twisted around in your seat to see who she was referring to.

Oh. Well, she definitely wasn't wrong, per se.

Coming in through the door himself was Kim Sunwoo, as well as a few of his own friends, you guessed. You recognized one of them as Ji Changmin, one of the dancers from the winter showcase. Besides those two, there were four others, too—three other boys and a girl. You didn't recognize any of them, but you saw the way your waitress greeted them and squeezed one of the boys' hands.

You and Sunwoo made eye contact, and you shot him a small smile, lifting your fingers in a wave.

He seemed surprised to see you, and you didn't fault him for that. His wave was slight and smile shy, but you couldn't figure out why he ducked his head and didn't come by and say hi.

They're being seated for dinner, Yn. It's okay. Chill a little.

You turned back in your seat to face Sieun and your food again.

"Hey, cheer up, girl." Sieun's smile was sympathetic as she caught your attention. You hadn't even noticed how your posture noticeably slumped after that interaction—if one could even call it that. "Don't let this ruin your dinner, okay?"

You sighed out of your nose, testing your chopsticks over the rim of your bowl. "You're right. I don't know, Eun. It feels like we regressed? Is he avoiding me? Am I overthinking this?"

"I'm not sure, hon," she told you. "It'll be okay, though. I promise. Are you ready for the check?"

You nodded, reaching for your napkin to wipe your mouth.

Sieun lifted her hand and caught your waitress's attention, then made a motion for the bill. HN!Yn was quick to bring it over and set the little black tray with the receipt onto the edge of your table. In her hands she held a small device to input your method of payment.

"Are we splitting the bill today, ladies?" She asked you, eyes flickering between you both.

"Yeah, evenly split would be great, please," you told her.

Sieun leaned over to peer at the receipt as you reached into your bag to grab your card. Her face contorted into confusion, and she ran her finger over a line as if reading over it again carefully. "Oh, uhm, excuse me. It says we get a discount—not that I'm complaining! But…"

HN!Yn smiled. "Ah, you're friends with Sunwoo, right? That's what he told me, at least. I always give my partner and his friends my Friends & Family discount, so don't worry about it. I appreciate your integrity though."

You and Sieun exchanged wide-eyed glances, blinking, then turned to peer over at where Sunwoo's friend group sat. One of the boys sitting next to him whacked his arm to get his attention, nodding toward your table.

Sunwoo looked up.

Your head tilted to the side and you mouthed a "thank you?" to him, unsure of why he went out of his way to help you out.

He only nodded before ducking his head again. Huh. You'd have to thank him properly later.

HN!Yn was quick to help you and Sieun box your meals and finish paying. Before long, you tucked your arm around Sieun's to push out into the cool evening—not without glancing back at Sunwoo's table first.

— ✶

"She looks sad. Why is she sad?" Sunwoo sulked, lying atop his folded arms on the table and staring at you through the space between Haknyeon and JC!Yn.

You were the last person he thought he'd see when he and his friends walked into Haknyeon's favorite Chinese restaurant. You and your friend were pretty much wrapping up dinner when they'd come in, and he was quite literally startled by your presence. He'd been walking around on eggshells, he felt, all because of this stupid situation he'd forced himself into.

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

Changmin delivered a light whack to the back of Sunwoo's head. "You're dumb."

Sunwoo sat up and cupped the back of his head, leveling a glare at his friend. "Hello?"

"He's not exactly wrong," said Chanhee from the other side of him as he texted someone on his phone.

Sunwoo pressed his lips together and looked across the table from him at JC!Yn in a silent cry for help. The woman could only lift her shoulders half-heartedly. That meant that she agreed with them… great.

Eric snapped his wooden chopsticks apart and began using either stick to smooth the other for splinters. "We're saying you're dumb because you're doing this to yourself and to her unnecessarily."

Sunwoo huffed. "That's because you guys weren't there to see it happen! They're totally together—or at least, close." It still felt awful to think about. It felt like there was a hole in his chest left empty after considering the possibility that he was too late. He didn't want to get hurt.

"You can still talk to her like you used to, Sunwoo-ah," Haknyeon chimed in. "Even if they were—and I'm not saying they are—together, there's still a healthy amount of space where you can dwell as her friend."

HN!Yn appeared at the head of the table with a tray of water, and everyone pitched in to pass the cups down. "Thanks, guys," she said, tucking the tray under her arm. "Are you guys ready to order?" The question was directed towards the rest of the table, but Sunwoo saw the way her eyes lingered on Haknyeon and how Haknyeon's smile shifted to something that Sunwoo was sure was only for her.

It made him feel strange again.

The group, as usual, trusted Haknyeon's choices in dishes and let him take the reins in deciding what they ate tonight. Once HN!Yn had headed off into the kitchen to deliver their order, conversation resumed swiftly.

"I think you're just scared, Sunwoo," JC!Yn said to him over the rim of her glass of water.

Murmurs of agreement resounded from all around the table. Sunwoo's jaw fell open. "I—I am not scared. What would I be scared of?"

"The truth! Oooh," Eric pursed his lips and wiggled his fingers in Sunwoo's direction.

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

"If you weren't scared of the truth," said Haknyeon, as he propped his elbows onto the table, "you would have gone up to her in that hallway."

"Didn't she tell you that she didn't see Yangyang that way anyways?" Chanhee chimed in. He was still going at it texting whoever it was on his phone.

"But she also said she wanted to give it a second chance," Sunwoo corrected.

Changmin scratched behind his ear and grabbed sauce trays from the end of the table to pass down to everyone else. "That was before she started hanging out with you some more. What is your point?"

They all made excellent points, he thought. That afternoon he'd seen you and Yangyang, he'd gone to meet Changmin in one of the dance practice rooms. After that, he'd gone home to yell into his pillow until his throat burned. Eric had muttered something about Sunwoo being dramatic and summoned JC!Yn over to the apartment to deal with him.

Sunwoo had just been bummed. He didn't even know if bummed was a strong enough word.

"I'm just scared of getting hurt, I guess," he finally admitted, meekly.

The table quieted to allow him room to speak his mind, and even Chanhee put his phone away to give him his full attention now. It wasn't often Sunwoo wore his heart on his sleeve like this, and it wasn't easy either. For anyone. Admitting to his fears in the middle of a Chinese restaurant while five of one's friends listened in was intimidating, but it was comforting to know that these friends he kept would find a way to support him. Even if he was being stupid, their tough love was out of desire to look out for him.

When he was done, Changmin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder and his dimple pressed into his cheek. "Sunwoo-yah, I think that you second guess yourself too much and you know that. You're self aware enough to know that you make the mistake of not going for what or who you want."

Sunwoo stared at an impurity in the table. What Changmin was saying hit the nail on the head—it was what happened with the dance showcase, too, and now he was about to let it ruin a friendship he had with a person he cared very much about.

"My advice," Changmin continued, "is to talk to her about what you saw and clarify it. I know it's… I know it's scary thinking you're gonna get hurt again, but I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

your phone: hey thanks for the fnf discount last night! sorry i didn't thank u properly before, but yeah, really appreciate it :')

sunshine (sunwoo): it was no problem, dw abt it!

your phone: btw is everything okay? u seem a bit distant lately and i wanted to make sure u were doing alright

sunshine (sunwoo): ah yeah, im sorry :( there's just been some things on my mind

You shot Sunwoo a quick text back to let him know you were here if he wanted anyone to talk to. His text had just come in after you'd sent him a reply in the early evening.

"Yn-ah. Still on your phone, I see?"

You jolted and shoved your device into the pocket of your jeans, smiling sheepishly as Lee Jihoon power-walked into the backstage area with a pen behind his ear and a clipboard in hand. "Hi, Jihoon!" You squeaked.

He lifted his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to come follow him. Since everyone was back from Spring Break, the work for the play being performed was kicked into high gear. Jihoon was a graduate student at the university and a director of the stage here; adding the fact that he majored in the same thing you did also made him one of your favorite mentors ever. The back hallways were bustling with costumes, props and other assorted technicians while most of the actors were either in the main backstage area or onstage proper with the play director, HJ!Yn.

You followed swiftly after him and weaved through the people littered about the corridors. "I finished synching the panel back here with the projector in the box," you told him, "though, it's weird that it was ever undone in the first place." You frowned. There had been a lot of strange things happening in the theater lately.

Jihoon gave you a curt nod and set you up in front of one of the house lights panels located in the hallway leading right out to the audience. He pointed at it with the back of his pen. "Yeah, some funky shit's been happening around here," he sighed. "You were here the other night when the speakers were acting weird, right?"

You nodded and let him guide you through navigating this backup panel. "I was. You and Chan seemed really stressed."

"We were," he said, adjusting his cap. "We really do need some more funding to update our equipment—careful, that knob is really sensitive. Good, nice work."

Once you and Jihoon had successfully finished with this panel, you lingered in the hallway for a moment. Normally, you would switch back and forth between shadowing either Chan or Jihoon, and tonight was with the latter. He was going through a couple forms on his clipboard—he must have been reading through them while working tonight.

"You seem distracted tonight, Yn-ie," he said. "Is everything okay?"

Despite being one of the busiest and hardest workers here, Jihoon was also one of the most observant, still. You leaned against the wall next to him, toeing at the floor. "Boys are stupid, right?"

Without hesitation or looking up from his clipboard, he replied, "As a boy, I can confirm."

That made you sputter out a laugh, and you saw him glance up and flash you a smile. When you couldn't find something else to say, he went forth. "I don't know the whole situation, and you don't have to tell me anything. But we guys are a little—" he made a gesture with his hands and wrinkled his nose, "—blind. You probably know that already, but dudes are dumbasses, and sometimes when feelings get in the way, they want to run for the hills.

"But if you think he's worth it, then reach out and be forward with him. And if he cares about you, he'll reach out and be honest," he finished. He let you settle with that thought, let it marinate in your brain to give you something to think about. (As if you didn't have a lot to think about already.)

You pressed your lips together with a slow nod. "Thanks Jihoon."

"Anytime, Yn-ie." He nodded back toward the direction you both had come from. "Let's go back that way, yeah? We've got some more housekeeping to take care of."

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

"...I thought I'd recommend a song that's been on my mind. I've actually been listening to quite a few Taylor Swift songs recently, especially since she's re-recording all her albums! So here's 'Superstar' from Fearless, Taylor's Version."

He had put your most recent podcast episode on full volume while he made himself dinner. It had been a long day today, and so his automatic thought was to listen to you. But now that he was getting into the meat of the episode, he was quickly coming to realize how much trouble he was in. You were playing the song, and it was a direct call out to him to wake the fuck up.

As the song faded to a close, your voice came back on.

"Actually, I was recommended the song by someone I know," you said in the mellow tone you'd been in for the entire episode so far. "I guess I'm just confused and I was wondering if they really meant what they said."

Sunwoo nearly dropped the egg in his hand onto the kitchen floor. Guilt swirled around in the bubbles of the soup in the pot and he frowned down at the rich, creamy liquid.

He sighed, tapping the egg against the counter and cracking its innards into the pot. "Of course, I really meant it," he said as if you could hear him. He wished he had the guts to tell you everything that was going on in his head… As his soup boiled away, he leaned against the empty counter to wait, cradling his head in his hands, groaning. "You're being unfair, Sunwoo."

"...This one's from Peony! They say: almost didn't realize Rhaps Anon wasn't in the last episode until the very end when we hadn't gotten a rec from them. Hope they're doing okay!" Ah, so you weren't the only one who noticed his brief absence. Your sigh filled the apartment, though, he heard the way you tried to force some kind of cheeriness into it. "Yeah, I hope they're doing okay too. But Rhaps'll be back! Let's all wish them well. Fighting!—"

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

He really needed to talk to you. Oh god, he really needed to talk to you. If not to confess, then to clear the air and assure you that all was okay on his end. He was just being a coward, and he knew that well enough now.

When his dinner had finished, Sunwoo turned the flame off and headed for his phone on the opposite counter. He lowered the volume as he went in and pulled up his text thread with you.

sunwoo's phone: hey,, i know ur probs busy w the play this week, but is there a possibility for me to see you sometime soon? i wanted to talk to u abt something

He gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer, until he realized you were probably working. That made him drop his phone and return to his dinner—maybe he just needed to not look, so his anxiety wasn't so high—

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

superstar 💫: i think i'll prob have some time saturday morning

EPISODE ELEVEN: [SOMEONE'S LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, LOSERS.]

YOU asked Sunwoo if he'd like to tag along with you as you did some grocery shopping before rehearsal on Saturday morning. His answer had been automatic, and you both agreed to meet each other at the bus stop to ride down to the larger supermarket down the hill together. Even as you stood at the corner of your street waiting for him beneath the overhang, you were trying to come up with possible things he was going to say to you. You had figured, when he’d texted you Wednesday night, that perhaps the best way to go about this would be to make this casual. Hence, why you were forcing yourself to go grocery shopping a day earlier than you usually did.

Casual, in this case, called for “you don’t have stare me in the eyes the entire time,” and to be frank, you were a little too nervous for that kind of setting anyway.

You tugged the edges of your cardigan over you as you heard your name being called from the opposing street. Sunwoo was bounding his way over to you with his arm raised in greeting. You returned the gesture with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He stopped by you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray jacket. “Hi,” he said, licking his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

The bus slowed to a halt in front of your stop, and the two of you retrieved your transportation cards to board. “You say that like I wouldn’t have agreed,” you chuckled and tapped your card, Sunwoo following suit.

The two of you managed to find a pair of empty seats near the second half of the vehicle where the exit was for an easy departure when you reached the foot of the hill. But for now, you tucked your bag onto your lap and settled into the window seat, while Sunwoo occupied the one next to you.

You turned your head to gaze out the window and watch the world blur by as you did. The Avenue streets were a tad narrower than most around the university, so the bus traveled as efficiently as it could from stop to stop before turning the block to make its descent. It was technically still morning, and though it was spring, the sky had decided to blanket the sunshine with gray clouds to form an atmosphere that reminded you distinctly of the past winter quarter. Except, instead of thin, empty branches, the streets and walkways were encased in darkening green leaves and falling pink petals, a nod to the short-lived cherry blossom season. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo’s foot start to tap against the ground like Thumper the Rabbit, and you wondered for the millionth time what was going on in that pretty head of his.

“I don’t really understand,” you found yourself saying—his head swiveled—and you turned to look at him, “did I do something wrong?”

Sunwoo stammered, "What? No, it wasn't you! It wasn't your fault at all—I was just—" he sighed, grimacing to himself. "I was just being stupid. And I know that sounds super vague, but the short answer is that I was being stupid and scared and insecure."

Your brows furrowed and you felt the bus come to a gentle stop at the foot of the hill. "Scared and insecure? What's going on; is everything okay?"

You both got up to make a quick exit off the bus and began making the short walk from the bus station into the outdoor shopping center.

There was a jittery bounce to Sunwoo's steps as well as a tension in his shoulders. "Last week," he began, "Jisung told me that he'd just left you at the practice room and that you were probably going to be there awhile."

You nodded, grabbing a basket at the front of the grocery store. That rang a bell for sure. It had been a very long day in the practice room, so you weren't quite sure what direction this was going in yet.

"Well, I wanted to go surprise you and come hang out with you. You know, like, to keep you company." He started scouring the opposite shelf to you in the dried foods aisle, his eyes nervously darting from the BUY ONE, GET ONE pasta noodles deal signs, to your person. "And when I got there, I saw you and Yangyang."

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

It was like a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped pretending to look at the overpriced vermicelli noodles on the shelf behind you.

"And you guys were hugging and close and stuff—and by all means! I—I have no problem with that, of course," he added quickly, "I mean, you guys are really close… friends? And I just saw him lean toward you and left because I… I got the message." The latter portion was delivered in a defeated tone as he looked on toward you helplessly and sorrowfully. It was how Sieun described you Tuesday night when you'd seen Sunwoo at the restaurant: a sad sap.

You both stopped moving down the aisle to face each other. In the white, fluorescent supermarket lights, his hair hung in his eyes like his head in embarrassment. You were going to let him finish.

He cupped the back of his head, suddenly feeling so bare before you despite not being physically naked at all. "I thought some space might distinguish or extinguish my feelings for you," he continued, nose wrinkling and lip curling in a wince. "Clearly it didn't help, and I think overall, I realized I wasn't being fair to you—as a friend. And that I was also being the biggest fucking loser ever."

Wait, you were still reeling from the mentions about feelings—

Before you could even address the aforementioned, you had to make something clear first. You felt the corners of your lips lift. "Sunwoo, me and Yangyang really are just friends." At the confused, puppy-dog look in his eyes, you explained further, "That day, Yangyang came by and I made it clear to him that I just saw him as a friend. I felt really awful for feeling like I'd led him on and was going to lose his friendship."

Sunwoo's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and he struggled to come up with the response he wanted. "So… so when he was leaning in toward you…"

"He leaned in and flicked my nose, then almost gave me a nosebleed," you chuckled. You'd given him a very appropriate flick to the forehead after that.

His eyes widened at that. "Well shit. Are you okay?" He asked, and you saw his smile slowly begin to make its appearance, the sun peeking through an overcast sky.

"Yeah, perfectly fine," you dismissed with a flick of your hand. "Especially now. But yeah, we're just friends."

There was a surge of relief in his tense shoulders. "Oh, okay."

He trailed after you as you continued to make your way down this aisle in particular to pick up the things that were on your shopping list.

At one point, he coughed, handing you the jar of red peppers you were reaching for. "So no hard feelings, right? I promise it will be totally back to normal!"

"Normal, as in back to before?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! To be honest, Dovey, I was just kind of scared that I had lost my chance after waiting so long. I don't know. And I realized that I was just scared to face that fact."

You gauged his reaction and your own heart thundered in your chest. "Scared to face the fact that you'd lost your chance with me?"

"Well, yeah. I—" He stopped and froze like a deer in headlights. And in any other circumstance, you would have been laughing, but he seemed so distraught by what he just admitted to that you tried hard to suppress your amusement. Tried. "I just said that aloud, huh."

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

He smiled, cute and flustered, cheeks tinted pink. "You're always too easy a person to talk to," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I would've said something sooner…" He began.

Something jumped to attention in your brain. Oh no. "Was I giving you mixed signals?" You pursed your lips like you'd just gotten into something sour. "'Cause I swore I thought my attraction to you was clear. And, like, the thing where I totally began rethinking my thoughts about Yangyang when you came into the picture—"

"Wow, so Changmin was right?" Sunwoo made a face, holding his hand against his forehead. "That's crazy."

"Crazy good or…?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but admire the twinkle in his eyes as he did. "Crazy so good."

"I don't think people actually say that."

He whined, "Yah, you can't already be clowning me. Not when I just confessed that I like you."

That made you sober up, but you couldn't say the same for your heart rate. Man, your BPM alone could probably power a bullet train… "I like you, too. I hope that's clear."

There you two stood in the middle of the dried foods aisle with twin smiles glowing on your faces, soft and shared. You didn't know what the BOGO pasta was doing, but it was definitely adding to the atmosphere. You had intended for running errands to distract you from whatever Sunwoo had wanted to talk to you about, but clearly that was not the case—it would have never worked like that. You would be damned to have missed something like this. Not with him.

Perhaps he had made a mistake—he was now apologizing and clarifying and trying. You could hear Jihoon's words of wisdom ring loud and clear in your head. There was something perfectly fine about how this turned out.

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

The remainder of your errand run with Sunwoo had gone smoothly, and soon, you were both seated side by side once more on the bus up to the University District. Sunwoo had gotten a couple things for his fridge, too, and so you both sat with your grocery bags by each other and your fingers grazing the other. Ever since you had clarified your position with Sunwoo a little over an hour ago, you had been feeling much lighter, your heart skipping for a different reason. You were back to feeling the giddy excitement you always had around him, and especially since you knew he saw you in exactly the same way.

The two of you shared a laugh as you stepped off the bus and onto your block, grocery bags in hand.

“—I’m being completely serious! Apparently I was just snot-nosed wailing into her shirt about being single and forever alone,” Sunwoo guffawed, grinning wide at you as you both stopped to the side of the walkway. “And Eric was pissed, oh my god.”

“I mean, you just kiss-blocked him; kind of understandable,” you mused.

Sunwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aye, I know. He’s a good guy though. Total loser, but a good loser. He made me hangover soup the next day.”

You let out a laugh, walking slowly with him down toward the entrance of your apartment complex. "That was sweet of him."

He snorted, "A little out of character, but yeah."

"You know," you piped up, "when I was applying and eventually interviewing for the position with Chan and Jihoon, I had no idea what either of them looked like. So I accidentally—woah, shi—"

Somebody coming down the sidewalk toward you crashed into your shoulder and sent you careening toward the sidewalk. Sunwoo swore as you let out a squeak—his arm looping around your waist and hauling you against him to steady you.

He lifted his head in the direction of the person with a glower on his face. "Hey! Dude, watch where you're going!"

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

He turned to fix you with a smile, and you saw the moment he realized the position you were both in: you pressed firmly up against the side of his body, his arm wrapped around you, your faces so close to one another… He released his hold on you, neck burning as he cupped the back of it. "Heh, yeah. It's no problem. People should just really watch where they're going."

You coughed and nodded your head. "Yeah, for sure."

The pair of you were now in front of your apartment complex once more, reluctant to say goodbye. You wondered if he would ask to spend more time with you, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't want to intrude on your time any longer. It wasn't like he was intruding to you, but it was just a feeling you had about him. He wanted to respect your time.

And, well, you both had groceries to put away.

"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.

He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."

"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."

You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."

That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."

You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."

"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.

You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.

When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"

EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—

SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.

"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."

With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.

Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"

"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"

Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."

Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"

Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."

He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.

Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?

But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?

Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.

Then it clicked.

Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."

A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."

Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"

JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."

Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.

He sulked and didn't say anything.

"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.

"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"

Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."

"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"

Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"

"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.

"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."

"Shut up!"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.

Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?

Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.

"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"

Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."

Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."

Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"

"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"

"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.

She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?

The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"

The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.

— ✶

You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.

As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.

"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.

After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.

In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—

He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.

"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.

"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"

You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"

His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."

Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."

You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.

He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."

He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."

You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"

You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.

"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.

The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.

"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.

You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."

He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."

"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."

With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."

a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!

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[jumpywhumpywriter]

Traitors & Lovers (Hero & Villain) part 39

Warnings: medwhump, villain in a coma, loads of emotional tension and heartbreak, some kissing involved

So he waited, sitting and sleeping right next to her medical bed day and night. Waiting for the moment she might open her eyes and look at him again.

-------------------------------------------------------

Villain had died. She was certain.

...But she'd also been certain she'd died when Supervillain had left her bleeding out on the road as a gift for Hero to find. And she'd been wrong that time. What if she was wrong again?

Because the dead can't have conscious thoughts... and yet Villain could think. She could be confused like she was right now. Not know what was happening around her and be worried by it.

Darkness floated around her mind... silent, heavy, and suffocating… a cold weightlessness that filled her head, encapsulated her entire being. She couldn't move. Everywhere was blocked by an invisible wall. She was trapped somewhere, somewhere small and dark...

And slowly, her awareness trickled back, a slow awakening from a long, dreamless sleep. Her mind was reeling, dazed and disoriented, but her surroundings were feeling more and more real with every second.

The first thing she became aware of was the distinct lack of pain she was in -- her whole body was pleasantly numb, limbs feeling unnaturally heavy. Then a faint beeping that matched her heartbeat to perfection.

Memories floated hazily in her mind... a chaotic jumble of images flashing by too fast to grasp onto. Her head throbbed from the overload of information, and she struggled to make sense of it all.

Then she remembered the pain, the cold, the fear. The feeling of Supervillain's dagger as it slid into her side.

I... I should be dead. Why am I not dead?

Her mind, grasping for purchase in the endless black abyss, seized upon a new, powerful memory, and reality came crashing back all at once. She remembered staring up into Hero's lovely tear-streaked face as he held her close, remembered trying to comfort him even through her own pain, before all the lights went out. But everything after that was just... darkness. Silence. Nothingness. Until now. Because now, miraculously, she could feel again -- and she knew she wasn't dreaming.

She took several deep, slow breaths to steady herself and gather her bearings before focusing her effort on opening her eyes to get a look at her surroundings.

The first thing she saw was a white ceiling. And then Hero's face appeared over her, his expression shocked and surprised and devastatingly relieved all at once, a look so open and vulnerable it made her chest ache.

He stared at her, and Villain stared back, eyes wide, locked in sacred silence. Like both of them were coming to terms with the new reality.

Then, Hero's eyes grew watery, and without a word he leaned down and kissed her, awkwardly throwing his arms around her on the medical bed in an intense hug, the fiercest one Villain had ever received.

It took a second for Villain to react, to feel the realness of Hero's lips on her, but after that she melted into him and kissed him back with equal desperation, lifting a weak hand up to comb shaky fingers through his soft hair, like she needed even more proof that he was here with her.

They were panting when they broke apart, and Hero rested his forehead on Villain's shoulder -- and suddenly started sobbing. Out of gratitude and relief this time, instead of anguish and grief. The moment felt too good to be true. All the guilt-ridden tension he'd been holding onto bled out of him in a flood. Because Villain was alive – and to him, that meant everything would be okay.

“...H-Hero?” Villain whispered hoarsely, her voice scratchy and rough from disuse. Thanks to the obvious painkillers it didn't hurt to speak – it was mildly uncomfortable at most. “How… we're… what happened…? Supervillain…?”

“You killed him,” Hero choked out, “but he killed you too. You bled out in my arms, and – and–”

He couldn't get the rest out, the breath sawing in and out of his lungs. But he cleared his throat and tried again.

“You died, Vil,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I thought you weren't coming back.”

Villain offered him a wobbly smirk. “You know me – I'm hard to get rid of. My good karma points keep me alive.”

Hero snorted a startled laugh. “You? A notoriously evil villain? Your name and ‘good karma’ have no business being in the same sentence. You've screwed too many people over in your life.”

Villain chuckled quietly. “I did help you stop Supervillain, though,” she pointed out. “I think the karma earned from that noble feat alone overrides my past crimes.”

Hero pulled back to look at her, biting his lip nervously. “Did you… mean what you said, at… at the end?” He stumbled over the words. “That…”

“I love you too,” Villain echoed faintly. She remembered.

Hero was watching her closely, his expression openly hopeful yet prepared for rejection, and Villain felt the weight of her next decision weighing heavily on her conscience.

She could take it back. Should take it back. Hero had betrayed her once – he could do it again. But…

Villain let out a shaky breath, and drew in another, making her choice.

“I do,” she whispered. “I love you too. I meant it. I can tell you've… changed. I'm not yet sure how much you have, but… I want us to try again. If you'll allow it.”

“Yes. I would like that. I'd like it very much.” Hero's eyes watered, and he leaned over to hug her again, but Villain put a weak hand on his chest, stopping him.

Her eyes hardened. “I want to give you a second chance. I really do. But if I'm going to let you into my life again… you can't go behind my back. Because if you betray me a second time–”

“--I won't,” Hero answered instantaneously, and she could tell he meant it. “I swear I will always, always be loyal to you, above all else, for the rest of our lives. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Villain's eyes softened, and her guard cracked and crumbled into dust, Hero stealing her heart all over again. She let herself be vulnerable again for the first time in the three years she'd been on the run, risked opening herself up to being hurt again – with the hope that things would be different this time around. Because she loved Hero, fiercely. And the walls she'd built to keep the world out had kept her from him for far too long.

Her expression tightened with emotion, and she took her hand away from Hero's chest to run it through his hair again, pulling him close and kissing him passionately.

They were both crying by the end of it, in relief and love all the same. Two hearts broken, and mending, united by pain and passion. Two healing souls. Two lovers who had found each other again.

And it was beautiful.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

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