Tumgik
#...because it is likely that you are educating somebody who is going to see the world VERY differently...
uncanny-tranny · 8 months
Text
I think another aspect of conservative thought people need to understand is the idea that it's all about dominance.
The reason why sayings like "we don't want to trans your kids, we want trans kids to live" is because, in the conservative mind, you are replacing their dominance with your own. It can never be about what is best for others, it is always about expressing absolute power and control.
Natural selection, at its ideal, will weed out the people who "shouldn't live." If their existence is a threat to the already-established hierarchy, then it's obvious that they shouldn't exist in order to challenge hierarchy.
While this certainly isn't a "conservative-only" mindset, it's a trend I have noticed more in conservative spaces. This is why I don't always think it's helpful to go on about how, "Oh, we don't want to threaten your worldview. We just want people to live 😊". You will fundamentally be threatening their power in their minds. Therefore, nothing you say can truly take away from the anxiety, fear, and anger at losing control that may be instilled.
#politics#transphobia#transphobia tw#used the whole 'we want trans kids to live' because i personally think it's a good example..#...but isn't the sole example of such...#...take for instance the gay marriage debates from the early 2010s...#...'if we legalize gay marriage it's ONE STEP CLOSER to them taking OVER america and legalizing [horrible thing]!'...#...that is the anxiety of Losing Control and Losing The Divine Hierarchical Power Bestowed To You Personally By Gd Himself...#...i'm not saying all of this to dissuade people from educating people. but i want people to be aware of this dynamic...#...and to decide if they can (or should) personally go up to bat for others to educate people...#...i don't think you will go very far if you try to educate people without understanding on SOME level how their thought process will be...#...because it is likely that you are educating somebody who is going to see the world VERY differently...#...and they will often interpret what you are saying VERY differently than how you intended it to be interpreted...#...again while this isn't solely a conservative issue (believe me i KNOW) i notice it much more in those spaces...#...and since i am in spaces that WANT to educate people about this i think it is apt...#...it isn't a bad thing to want to educate. but again it's not helpful to just assume others are going to interpret you the way you want...#...it's definitely why i stopped making so many posts about educating others. i just don't think i can do it well...#...or at least in a way that doesn't Feel Threatening (even if it Isn't A Threat)
95 notes · View notes
andthebeanstalk · 1 year
Text
My first time watching Glass Onion it was obvious that Miles' speeches were bullshit, but I still searched for any hidden meaning there might be.
The second time is a different experience though because every time my brain starts to search for meaning, I feel like Benoit Blanc discovering that no, there is absolutely no hidden meaning.
It's bullshit it's all nothing nothing nothing! It is just how you end up talking when everyone reacts to your self-aggrandizing word vomit like it is actually wisdom.
Also, legit, when Miles gave his stupid bullshit speech about what the word 'disruptor' means to him, I shit you not I was like holy shit am I back in business school right now?!
Miles must have given speeches like that at 100 business school graduations, goddamn.
Like, the motherfuckers really do sound like this. We didn't have any billionaires come, but we had a lot of millionaire guest speakers in my classes, and they fucking talk like that.
They all think they're rugged capitalists, but they're just glass onions!
#original#glass onion#it's just. business school prepared me really well to succeed in the business world as a straight white neurotypical#able-bodied cis man with a large network of very wealthy friends and family#I really would have killed it if I wasn't a queer autistic cripple!#even the best teachers seemed incredibly unaware of the enormous privilege that they were assuming in their students when they taught#but they basically presupposed you had infinite energy and savings and a disturbingly large number of my classes were just#lectures about pushing as hard as you can no matter what#they used Starbucks as an example of an admirable case of somebody who persisted in going to 150 investor pitches before being approved#and like. how many people do you know who have enough savings to schedule plan and attend 150 investor pitches?#how many people do you know who could set up even 12 through their connections?#where are those savings coming from? where are those investor pitch meetings coming from? those aren't easy to get!!#but none of this was ever mentioned it was just awesome that the guy kept trying I guess.#I have a sneaking suspicion that if I were to have dug deeper into some of the examples we were given that a lot of those#real life businesses probably started with a big big loan from somebody's parents#I was listening to the show you're wrong about which is a really good podcast and Michael Hobbs was like#anytime you see an article glorifying someone's financial success especially at a young age you should control F for 'parents'#because chances are you will probably see the word 'parents' somewhere next to the words 'million dollar loan'#anyway college is a scam. the community aspect was incredibly cool but I don't see why we as a culture need to only be able to access that#kind of community when we are paying a scam Institution a shitload of money for Educations that aren't helpful for the majority of us#if College was free then people could actually study things that are useful or fun for them#I took most of my courses just to fill out my major too. the point wasn't to learn it was to graduate.#and then it turned out that if you're disabled in the way i am it doesn't matter if you have a college degree!#but I'm sure miles would say I just need to pull myself up by my bootstraps. and that's why I'm glad his life got exploded 😌#andi kept him around for his money - why else would he be there when no one even liked him??#he was the bankroll#one time I swear to god we just had the guy from American Psycho just a real ass Patrick Bateman#it was wild watching that movie later and being like ???? I know this guy!#outside of the actual murder scenes everything in that movie is not exaggerated in the slightest those bitches really are like that#like my parents are not 1% level rich so there'd be no giant loans but they are rich. it'd be stupid to act like i didn't benefit from that
96 notes · View notes
poetessinthepit · 3 months
Text
It's amazing how many people are incredibly uncharitable towards Palestinians and Arabs in general. I can recall this one video on YouTube where an Israeli guy is asking a handful of Palestinians what they think of Hitler; it's hardly scientific. The majority of Palestinians interviewed in the video have an unfavorable view of Hitler. One guy specifically says Hitler was evil because he burned jews. There are a few of them who say positive things, but then the translator makes it clear that they are joking or being sarcastic. Only 1 or 2 people in this video say good things about Hitler in seriousness.
While that is alarming and no one should be praising Hitler, I think you'd sadly find similar answers in any area of the world where people do not get a decent education on WW2, the holocaust, Hitler, etc. For example, when I was in India, I saw a pack of cigarettes at a truck stop called Hitler cigarettes. My assumption was not India is full of nazis but that there is ignorance about who Hitler was in India ( hindu nationalists/modi supporters are actually comparable to nazis, but that's another convo).
Even with this minute sample size, the video hardly confirms the popular Israeli narrative that Palestinians are nazified people. Yet, if you only read the comments in the video and you didn't watch it, you'd think the opposite was true.
Many of the comments say the video is terrifying and chilling and proof that Palestinians don't want peace/hate jews/are nazis. Some say that even the Palestinians who called Hitler "bad" or "evil" or a "tyrant" are just lying for the camera, and you can tell by their body language. Commenters who don't speak a lick of Arabic insist that in the cases where the translator says the interviewee is not being serious, the translator is whitewashing the answers. Apparently, arabs incapable of joking. If somebody randomly came up to me on the street and asked me, "Do you think Hitler was good?",I can imagine easily laughing and sarcastically saying,"No, he was a good guy. " Maybe not if someone shoved a camera in my face, but I have an awareness of how things could be misconstrued that these people most likely do not.
And I'm not saying there is no antisemitism in Palestine,that would be ridiculous, but it's interesting to me that Israelis can say the most explicitly anti-arab racist shit and people will go out of their way to not see it for what it is, but a Palestinian can clearly state say Hitler was evil man because he burned jews and people will insist that their body language reveals they are a secret nazi.
I might remember some of the details wrong, but I'm just spitballing about something I vaguely remember.
405 notes · View notes
sungbeam · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
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 :'))
Tumblr media
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."
Tumblr media
a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @hibernatinghamster @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @kflixnet
666 notes · View notes
theemporium · 10 months
Note
hi!
I was thinking about remus lupin with secret relationship? Not potter reader but I wanna know how and why he'd go about that.
P.s did you happen to get my last ask? I'm not sure it was recieved
i don't think i did, sorry, i know its been a while since you've sent this too😭thank you for requesting!🖤
.
It was actually your decision to keep the relationship a secret. 
You weren’t ashamed of him nor were you embarrassed to be seen with him. You loved Remus Lupin in a way you didn’t think was possible to love somebody. You hid your relationship because of your family. 
You were from a pureblood family with a very cold and strict upbringing. You were taught how to walk, talk and act like a lady. You were taught to achieve your education with the highest marks. You were taught that by the time you left school, the arrangement for your marriage would be sorted and that would be your life. You were taught how to run a household, how to plan dinner parties and be the perfect, docile, pureblood wife. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the charming werewolf who swept you off your feet. 
You fought your feelings for a very long time, determined that they were a simple phase or distraction that would pass in all due time. But Remus Lupin had stolen your heart and you didn’t ever want it back. 
However, not even a few days after you had come to realise your feelings for the Gryffindor, you had watched an older student—a fellow Slytherin you remembered from dinner parties with other families—be ostracised and shunned from her family over the love she shared with a Ravenclaw boy. 
It terrified you. 
You knew, deep down, that the traditions and beliefs of your family were no longer the norm, and maybe not totally right either. But they were all you knew, they were all you have and the idea of losing them scared you. But you loved Remus—you really did and you weren’t ready to let him go. 
Remus respected it. He knew you needed time and he knew how you felt about him. He didn’t mind sneaking around and late night rendezvous if it meant he was with you.
“What’s wrong?” 
He had noticed all day that you had been acting off and it killed him inside knowing that he couldn’t approach you, that he couldn’t give you the comfort you needed as soon as he picked up on your mood. He had been itching to see you but he knew he had to wait until after curfew. 
Now, here you were, sitting on the couch of the small room that had formed (thanks to the Room of Requirements for you both) with glossy eyes and a letter in your hand. 
“My parents wrote to me,” was all you had to say and Remus was by your side, pulling your body against his until you curled into his side. Your hands gripped his sweater in tight fists, scared that he would disappear and you’d be left alone. 
“Shhh, honey, I’ve got you,” he whispered against the top of your head when he felt you fighting back your sobs. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and you broke as you shoved the letter in his hands, nuzzling your gaze against his chest as your body racked with sobs. 
Remus’ eyes glazed over the letter but it was more than enough. And one word stood out the most.
Betrothal. 
Your parents had settled the arrangement of your marriage. They had found you a husband and hadn’t even bothered consulting you on it. Your wedding was set to be after you graduated from Hogwarts this June. 
There were a million different thoughts racing through his head but one was louder than the others: he was going to lose you, he was going to lose the love of his life. 
“Remus, I—” you let out a shaky breath, staring up at him with tears streaming down your face. “I can’t…I can’t—”
He was so used to seeing you so composed and proper. He was so used to seeing you clamp down any feelings until you knew you were in a safe place to show them, usually when you were alone and able to sort through them. He had never once seen you so distressed or distraught. 
“You’re not going to,” Remus whispered to you. 
But you shook your head. “There’s nothing we can do—”
“There’s always something, darling,” he told you as his warm palm engulfed your cheek, guiding your head up so you were looking at him. His thumb gently swiped away your tears, his lips twitching as you leaned into his touch. “You’re not gonna marry him, I promise.” 
“What are we gonna do?” you whispered, sounding so small and broken. It sounded nothing like you and he hated it. He hated that they made you feel like this.
“I don’t know yet,” he murmured honestly, but the determination was evident in his voice. “But I’ll marry you the day before myself if it means they can’t force you into marrying some snobby bastard. I’m not gonna let them take you away from me, love.” 
Your eyes softened as you turned your head to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’d marry you in a heartbeat, Remus Lupin.”
His chest tightened. “Don’t go making me propose, darling. I’m a man with little self-control.” 
But you just smiled at him, resting your head back down on his chest and tightening your arms around his torso. “Fine by me, Lupin.”
.
527 notes · View notes
Text
Garden of Secrets [1] - Thorns
A.N: Let’s start my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤ And thanks to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the story! ❤
Summary: First impressions can go either way.
Warnings: Mentions of unhappy family life and fighting, Regency era society and social rules.
Word Count: 3400
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
You had never been to a circus before, but as much as you’d heard, you were quite certain it was similar to being introduced to the high society of London.
Extravagant clothes, announcements and performing tricks with a dash of danger.
If endless chatter and gossip and constant criticism fell under the category of danger, at least.
“Oh how I’m glad it’s over,” you murmured as the carriage slowed down, then came to a stop in front of your house. “It’s almost a blessing one only debuts once if you ask me.”
“My dearest, come on now,” your aunt said with a small smile. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“Not for me, no,” you admitted. “If anything it was dull, but I saw multiple ladies with tears in their eyes.”
The door of the carriage opened and you stepped out of it, then looked behind you to see the coachman helping your aunt out of the carriage as well. She linked her arm with yours before you both started walking towards the house down the stone road.
“Tears in their eyes?” she repeated. “Surely not. Who?”
“One of the Featherington sisters.”
“The one who tripped and fell in front of the queen?” she asked. “You could hardly blame her.”
“And um…what’s the name of the girl with those huge earrings?”
“Miss Grant?”
You snapped your fingers, “Yes, her,” you said as you slowly climbed up the stairs with her and entered the house. “You’d think being named the diamond is a matter of life or death, with the way people are acting.”
“I’m glad you brought it up actually,” she said as she gave her coat to the maid by the door. “Because I’ve heard—”
“Oh the glorious warriors are back from the battlefield it seems!” your uncle’s voice boomed through the hallway and you couldn’t help but smile slightly at his theatrics. Your aunt shook her head fondly, and looked up at the mezzanine where your uncle was leaning to the stair rails. He gave you a big smile and you and your aunt went up the marble stairs to reach him.
“My Clover,” he hugged you. “Was it terrible?”
You heaved a dramatic sigh. “More than you could imagine, uncle.”
He hummed, that playful glimmer shining in his eyes. “Was there blood?”
Your aunt gasped. “Howard!”
“What? I know how vicious ladies can be when they want to have more suitors than others dear,” he kissed your aunt’s cheek and she patted his arm.
“There wasn’t any blood but some tears,” you pointed out. “Much to my disappointment. I’d love to see people claw each other’s eyes out.”
“Oh you two…” your aunt said and entered the drawing room with you two following her. You took out the multiple feathers from your hair and tossed them on the coffee table.
“Where’s Teddy?”
“With his tutor,” your uncle said. “So? Am I in the presence of the diamond of the season?”
You scoffed. “Thankfully no.”
“That’s what I was saying though!” your aunt said. “I’ve heard some ladies say they were convinced you would be the diamond when they saw you. And her majesty took her time inspecting you, did she not? Y/N, if only you smiled a little in the ballroom …”
You made a face and shook your head.
“No no,” you said. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Daphne Bridgerton being the diamond makes sense. She’s more beautiful and talented and educated and all that, she was basically born and raised to be the diamond. I learned how to play the piano about two years ago, and the only time I would do it willingly is if I ever wanted to torment somebody. Besides, I’m not—” you paused for a moment, then cleared your throat.
“I’m really not interested in being the diamond,” you managed to say. “More trouble than it’s worth.”
They exchanged glances and your uncle nodded.
“We’re happy if you’re happy, Clover.”
You offered him a tiny smile and stood up.
“Well I’ll change and go to the garden,” you said. “Send for me if you need anything?”
“Will do!”
You made your way upstairs to quickly change your gown and went downstairs again. Grabbing your gardening apron and tools from the small closet by the door, you stepped out of the house and made your way to the flower gardens. You put on the apron and put down the basket, then got on your knees to inspect a rose, frowning slightly before grabbing the pruning shears and getting to work.
You had always loved tending to gardens. Ever since you were a child, it had given you more joy than anything else, planting flowers and watching them grow, it was in fact the only happy memory you had of your childhood. Perhaps it was because it gave you an excuse to stay out of the house, but whatever the reason was, you had always stayed outside, spending hours in the tiny garden you could call your own back home.
More often than not, your older sister would join you. It wasn’t as if she was interested in gardening, at least not like you were, but perhaps she too sought for some peace and quiet, and it was impossible to find it in the house where your parents were. Almost every moment consisted of a fight, things thrown around, and sooner or later either you or her would get involved in it, and be subjected to the fury of your mother or your father, whoever was the closest.
So, staying outside was safer.
In a way, you and your sister had both found a way to stay safe later on in life. She had eloped three years ago with your help, and only a couple of months later your aunt and uncle had visited your parents’ house and had a long talk with your father about letting you and your little brother Teddy stay with them. They had no kids, and since it would mean that your mother and father would have two less mouths to feed, they had agreed quite fast.
Especially when your uncle had mentioned money.
You were quite certain you would always be in your uncle and aunt’s debt. Even though both of them claimed otherwise, it would have made more sense for them to take Teddy, since he was a boy and could be their heir and easily leave you behind in that hell, but they had done no such a thing and made sure to treat you and Teddy like their own.
They were the only parents Teddy could remember.
And you?
As far as you were concerned, your birth parents were dead.
“Y/N!” A gleeful scream made you turn your head and you dropped the shears before Teddy threw himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck, and thankfully you’d had enough practice at catching him mid-air in the last couple of years so even though your whole body tilted back for a moment, you quickly regained your balance.
“Hello there!” you said, a big smile warming your face as you hugged him back. “What did we talk about sudden movements and sharp objects little man?”
He pulled back, giving you a huge grin.
“Did you trip in front of the Queen?”
You let out a small laugh. “Who told you that? Uncle?”
“He said someone always trips,” he said, excitement laced in his tone. “Did you?”
You shook your head and dropped your voice as if giving him a secret.
“Not me but someone tripped and fell down.”
He gasped. “Really?”
“Mm hm.”
“Then what happened?” he asked. “Is she in prison now?”
You bit back a smile. “No Teddy, no one goes to prison for that.”
“Even if it happened in front of the Queen?”
“Even then,” you said and wrapped your arms around him as he sat down to look at the flowers better.
“How was your day?”
“Boring,” he pouted. “Mr. Langdon says I must study harder.”
You hummed. “You know the rules,” you told him. “You want to be the smartest boy in Eton, do you not? When it’s time for you to go there—”
“I don’t want to go to Eton,” he cut you off and you pulled back to look at him better.
“Why not?”
“I’d miss you,” he mumbled, reaching you to touch the flowers and you felt your heart drop to your stomach at the idea of him going away all on his own. You heaved a sigh and opened your mouth to disagree, but then a tiny four leaf clover caught your sight, making you tilt your head.
This was also one of the reasons why your sister used to call you her lucky clover. Somehow, you managed to find those more than any other gardener.
You reached out to rip it, then held it up for Teddy to see, making him gasp.
“It has four leaves!”
“It does,” you said and put the tiny clover into the pocket on the lapel of his jacket. “See? It’ll bring you luck, in here or in Eton.”
He grinned at you and looked down at the clover.
“And,” you said, making him lift his head. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter where you are. Nothing could ever change that, alright?”
He paused for a moment and nodded fervently.
“Wonderful,” you said and reached inside the basket to pull out another pair of gloves. “Now, what do you say you help me with this?”
                                             *
Of course everything that had happened in the Queen’s presence had found its way to Whistledown’s gossip columns, and the whole ton was buzzing with the expectation of the balls and social gatherings to come. You would be lying if you said you shared the sentiment, you’d much rather stay at home and deal with your garden, but this was the issue with having debuted, considering how your uncle and aunt were prominent members of the ton, you now had to join any and every social outing within the season, formal or not so formal.
Hence where you were now.
Lady Bridgerton had invited some of the new debutantes and their families for tea, probably to celebrate Daphne’s new status but to socialize as well.
In your opinion, this was nothing but an attempt to make horses become familiar with each other before putting them on the race tracks but your aunt was very excited about it, so of course you said you would go but now that you were here, you couldn’t wait to go back home. The Bridgerton house was beautiful, and Lady Bridgerton was quite nice but the rest of the guests?
Dear God, this was almost as much of a torment as listening to your own tune on the piano.
You made your way to the huge table to grab a glass of lemonade, ignoring the whispers coming from the circle of ladies on the other side of table but when one of them giggled, you turned your head to look at them. The girl stopped whispering with her friends and shot you a slight grin.
“So which one of them are you here for?”
You furrowed your brows and looked down at the lemonade in your hand.
“There are different types?”
“No, silly!” she said. “Which of the Bridgerton brothers are you here for?”
Your frown deepened. “What?”
“Oh none of them of course!” the other girl said. “Kitty, stop getting her hopes up.”
You tilted your head. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m Irene,” the girl introduced herself. “You’ve probably heard about me. Anyway, don’t get me wrong of course but I’ve heard some things about you, that you grew up quite poor until your uncle took you and your brother in so it’s better not to get your hopes up.”
You arched a brow, keeping your gaze on her.
“They say the Viscount won’t get married so if you’re hoping to get him, I’d forget about that plan right now.”
The Vis—
Ah.
Right, you had seen him talking to Daphne when you were leaving the court and quite frankly, you weren’t impressed.
Not that you thought you could be impressed by anyone’s looks.
“Not to worry, you can have him,” you said. “I’m not interested.”
Kitty and Irene exchanged glances and Irene let out a scoff.
“Oh you’re after Benedict Bridgerton?” she asked. “The second son? That’s hopeless as well. Don’t even make any plans for it, the competition is too high and some say his attention has already been claimed.”
“Devastating,” you said with a completely straight face but it seemed to have gone over her head.
“And if you want to get Colin—”
“Are you planning on listing their whole family tree?” you cut her off. “Did you memorize it in your free time?”
Irene’s jaw dropped and you shrugged your shoulders.
“I’m not jesting by the way, everyone needs a past time activity, yours just happens to be a strange one.”
A small chuckle reached your ears and you turned your glances to the two other girls standing close to you, one with red hair and one brunette.
“Eloise,” Irene said. “And Penelope. How are you on this fine day?”
The brunette grinned.
“I’ve been better,” she said. “So have you, I suppose.”
Irene gritted her teeth and Kitty turned to you.
“Is it true you’re unable to smile?” she asked and you frowned.
“What?”
“Everyone says so,” she said. “That you have an illness of the sort. You can’t smile even if you want to.”
You stared at her for a moment, then took a deep breath and nodded.
“Yes,” you said. “It’s true.”
Irene pulled back slightly. “Really?”
“I don’t like to talk about it,” you said. “It was so unexpected. The tragedy struck when I was six years old, the doctors haven’t been able to find a cure or a cause since then. I don’t even remember how it feels to be able to smile to be honest with you.”
Kitty’s mouth opened agape in shock.
“And the worst part is,” you said. “The doctors fear it might be contagious.”
Kitty gasped and grabbed Irene’s arm, then pulled her to walk away from you to the other side of the room. You rolled your eyes and one of the girls let out a small chuckle.
“That was good,” she commented and the redhead repressed a laugh.
“Kitty will tell everyone you were not nice to her though, just so you know.”
“I’m not interested in being nice,” you muttered and the brunette smiled.
“I respect that,” she said. “I’m Eloise Bridgerton and this is Penelope Featherington.”
“Lovely to meet you,” you said after introducing yourself and out of the corner of your eye you saw Daphne approaching the table.
“Hello,” she smiled at you brightly before turning to Eloise. “Eloise, where is Benedict?”
“With Lottie I’m guessing. They both disappeared.”
“How shocking,” Daphne said. “Mama wants to see you.”
Eloise heaved a sigh and nodded at you, then she and Penelope walked away. Daphne turned to you.
“Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” you said. “And congratulations by the way, for being the diamond of the season.”
“Thank you!” she said, that bright smile lighting up her face again. “Some people say the Queen also considered you, I hope you do not resent me.”
You waved a hand in the air.
“Ah no I could never be the diamond, there’s nothing to resent,” you said. “Besides that’s just a rumor. The Queen was probably thinking about something else, I just happened to be there. You deserve that title much more than me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Oh it is,” you said. “I assure you.”
She tilted her head.
“We’re all going to take turns to play tunes on the piano in a moment,” she said. “Would you like to play as well?”
“Depends,” you deadpanned. “Do you want to make sure everyone leaves in a hurry? Because that’s my musical talent.”
Daphne stared at you, then covered her mouth to hide her laugh.
“It is a talent nonetheless.”
“One that would prove to be useful against unwanted guests if you have any in here.”
“You have no idea,” she whispered but before she could say anything else, you both heard her name being called. She heaved a sigh.
“I must go,” she said. “But thank you for the conversation.”
“Anytime,” you said and watched her leave, then downed your lemonade. You had to leave before somehow your aunt came up with the bright idea of you sitting in front of that piano, and in your humble opinion this was enough socializing to last you for a day. You made your way to your aunt and touched her arm.
“I’m going back home auntie.”
“Oh?” she asked. “Already?”
“I drank too much lemonade I think, my stomach feels strange.”
“Oh I can—”
“You don’t have to come with me, Paula can chaperone me back home,” you cut her off. “She was with the other maids in the garden the last I saw her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” you said, “I will see you home?”
“Yes my dear,” she said and you kissed her cheek, then thanked Lady Bridgerton on your way out of the drawing room and stepped out to the hallway. You let out a relieved breath and stretched out, all your muscles sore from you being so tense since the moment you had arrived. You rubbed at your eyes, wondering whether your maid was still in the garden but before you could lower your hands a door opened and you crashed into a hard body with a gasp and the person grabbed you by the arm, making your head snapped up.
The man in front of you was tall, much taller than you. His waistcoat fit him perfectly, and you had a chance to glimpse at his muscular arms as he pulled you upright to help you regain your balance allowing you to see his face better. He was very handsome, there was no denying that, with bright blue eyes and black hair, along with a faint smile adorning his lips—
Alright.
Perhaps you could be impressed by someone’s looks then.
You paused only for a moment before you snapped out of your haze and your anger at yourself burned through you for even letting such a nonsense thought catch you off guard. He stared at you, his mouth slightly agape as if he was in the same haze as you were but you narrowed your eyes, glaring at him.
“Watch your step,” you nearly growled and a look of confusion crossed his handsome face, making him blink in silence a couple of times.
“…It’s—it’s my house?” he said slowly as if trying to see whether you were jesting. “I live here.”
You shrugged your shoulders, still glaring at him and he took a deep breath as if deciding to clear out any misunderstanding.
“I’m Benedict Bridgerton.”
Ah.
Well, that made sense. No wonder the competition was high—
From an objective stance, that was.
“Congratulations,” you deadpanned and a small giggle reached your ears, making Benedict turn to glare at the closed door behind him.
And that was probably the girl who had ‘claimed his attention’ as they put it. Not that you would be troubling yourself with it.
“Um— what about you?” he asked as he turned to you again. “What’s your name?”
You raised your brows. “Why?”
“To repeat, because you are in my house.”
“So are a lot of other ladies,” you said and pointed back with your thumb. “They are waiting for you in the drawing room.”
He grimaced as if the mere thought caused him pain. “Are they really?”
“My heartfelt sorrows for the hardships waiting for you, may you find a solace of some sort.”
“You don’t sound to be in sorrow.”
“This is how I sound in sorrow,” you pointed out drily and he seemed almost amused as he tilted his head.
“Will you really refuse to tell me your name?”
“That’s not important information,” you said and walked past him, the faint scent of his cologne mixing into your breath and you bit down on your lip, then started making your way downstairs.
“Why not?” he called out and you scoffed.
“I doubt we will ever talk to each other again Mr. Bridgerton,” you called back, your heels echoing on the marble of the foyer before you walked out of the house, not even looking back.
Chapter 2
1K notes · View notes
another-goblin · 20 days
Text
How Aventurine would process their relationship. Just some fun options to explore. I do ship them, but it will work with them being just friends. (I wrote "just friends" and realized that it would probably be the first time for both of them to have an actual friend, so there is no "just" here.)
1. I can see him possessing enough emotional intelligence to realize what's going on and allow himself to accept Ratio's care and reciprocate his feelings. It's quite a nice and comforting option to explore. It can happen immediately after 2.1 or slowly, with them continuing to work together or hanging out from time to time. It's nice to see that like 95% of all the post-2.1 arts of them are examples of this (it doesn't mean that I don't love the remaining 5% btw).
He might also see it as a giant gamble. ("For the first time in my adult life I allow myself to be so emotionally vulnerable, opening myself to get really hurt, but the risk is worth it.")
2. He said something about only seeing friends as tools. I think he often uses his charm and wits to win people over, to make them act in his interests, to make them think that they actually like him. As a kind of subconscious self-defense mechanism, he would convince himself that Ratio only acts this way according to his own cunning manipulations and should be discarded after he'd outlived his usefulness. (cue angst)
3. Psychological problems. There is a whole sad collection to choose from, all deep-seated and subconcious. Mistaking Ratio's care for pity and getting offended by it. Feeling like he's not worthy of love. "I suffered alone my whole life, where have you been all this time, now it's too late, I don't need you anymore". And countless others. There's no way he's ever going to therapy, so they'll have to sort it out by themselves.
4. The most delicious option (and by that I mean SUFFERING *looks at two previous options* that is, MORE SUFFERING). A big part of his survivor's guilt is the supersticious idea that he owes his luck to his family's death. The only people he ever cared about and who ever cared about him died because of it. Being close to somebody means danger to them.
He knows that Ratio wouldn't accept his superstition based concerns. So the only way to save him is to hurt him emotionally to drive him away. 
But. What if Aventurine overcomes it and discards all these supersticious concerns (as he should). They get closer. And then Ratio does get hurt. It's serious, like, he's in the hospital, he lost an arm, something like that.
Imagine Aventurine's panic: "I brought it on him, I couldn't protect him, the only way to save him from worse is to leave him forever, immediately." And Ratio, recovering from a devastating injury, the first time in his life when he needs (and expects) support - he's abandoned.
It would probably crush his underlying philosophy of doing big good things for humanity (the way he cured that terrible disease, resolved the universal energy crisis, and is currently spreading education because he thinks that humanity is worthy of it). I mean, it's easy to care about humanity from afar, detached from it. It's much harder when your first attempt at a personal relationship ends in devatating pain.
101 notes · View notes
inqilabi · 20 days
Text
Surprises me the number of men that believe that they can have a marriage with just about any woman. Once they are ready to get married - they think any number of women with the 3-4 criteria (beautiful, educated, 1 specific physical feature they desire, 1 personality trait they desire) will work.
I believe that everyone has an internal character. And not everyone is going to be compatible even with someone who "checks all the boxes" initially. Some people have too much of an ego and just constantly invalidate or externalize every story you tell about yourself, to something other than your character - your tenacity, your smart. And with their ownselves, they'll internalize every story to their own tenacity and their smarts. For someone this might be hurtful but for someone else, this might be sexy & confident. Some people have no ego and are sweet and validating constantly. But someone might find this to be too cloying, too nice. Some people might want that fiestyness of the former.
And if your internal characters don't really match, you will have to do a lot of work - ie have *a LOT* of conversations teaching each other how to communicate so that you don't get butthurt. I actually see this as a fundamental incompatibility because to be constantly told to change your character, which you have a tendency to revert to, is going to be annoying - you'll view it as nagging. And it's exhausting for the other partner to have to communicate and teach all of this, and constantly remind.
Could it work and result in the long-term relationship? Yes. But this is what I think people refer to when they mean, "relationships are work". These people are fundamentally incompatible in terms of this "internal character". Thaat's why it requires a lot of work. And I think it's very rare to run into somebody that has an internal character that works with yours. And perhaps that's what soulmates are - someone with a disposition and internal character that soothes yours. Note that I didn't say character and disposition that's exactly like yours. Because it's possible that a complement is actually better.
119 notes · View notes
fastlikealambo · 6 months
Text
(spoilers below for killers of the flower moon)
just got home from seeing killers of the flower moon and here are thoughts no one asked for
leonardo dicaprio looks like a sweaty thumb this entire film and is easily out acted by just about everyone around him
robert de niro gives the best portrayal of satan on the big screen I've ever seen
the trailer did a great job of misdirecting you into thinking leonardo dicaprio's character is this man with torn loyalties and love in his heart when really ernest bukhart is an eroding popeye's biscuit who deserved the electric chair.
this movie should have been completely from the perspective of mollie burkhart and the osage people, every time the focus was not on the osage I checked out, too much time was devoted playing ' I got somebody for you to murder" telephone.
despite the fact that she is imo severely underutilized, this is lily gladstone's film, you can't take your eyes off her and as I said before, this movie dips when she is not on camera.
I understand it would not have been authentic to the story but I think they should have included a seven to ten minute scene of mollie throat punching ernest because again, FUCK YOU ERNEST YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID
go see this film, it is long but it is very good and in times like these where every single historical event that doesn't show certain people as the victors is up for erasure and distortion these films are not just art to provide entertainment, education, and discourse, they are evidence.
194 notes · View notes
sosuigeneris · 26 days
Text
Socialite series: Manufacturing your Personality
Tumblr media
So you want to get into high society. I can give you a guideline as to how you can do that. 
I was born in high society, in India. I know how these systems work. Even across cultures, they’re quite similar. I know some German, Asian, American high society people. Certain things are very similar across continents. 
You can permanently secure your position by two ways: marriage, or by becoming somebody. 
In Indian high society, there’s two kinds of people: those who have lineage, and those who are rich. 
Those who have lineage are those (mostly bankrupt) Maharajas, artists, singers, musicians, poets for generations - it’s an art form or royalty handed down to their children. They have ✨culture, a legacy✨ that can only be obtained by birth. They want to mingle with the business rich so that they get access to the opportunities they need for their livelihoods. 
The business rich can be new or old money. It doesn’t matter. Their businesses are family businesses. They have money, but may lack class. Don’t be mistaken that only new money can be “tacky” - I know plenty of influential, old money families who are equally classless and tacky. 
They want to mingle with the lineage crowd because they need that ✨culture✨ to be seen as someone. They want to be associated with them, to improve their reputations. By connecting to the artistic and musical world, it shows that they have class and persona. 
Both groups, as you see, need each other. You may ask - can’t there be families where there’s both?
Yes there can. But that is not common. 
Let’s say you take the route of dating someone who is of high society, and are hoping to convert that into marriage. I’ll be very honest with you - you have to seriously stand out for Asian and Middle Eastern high society families to accept you if you lack both lineage and money. 
You need to have a strong educational background - you need to go to a great college or masters, or whatever - otherwise this is really not going to happen. This is requirement number 1. If you don’t have this, don’t even bother reading the rest. 
And in Asian and ME families, remember one thing. Marriages are between families, NOT individuals. You have to impress the family, the family’s friends, their maids and barbers and god knows who else. 
And here are Cherry’s insider tips, just for you, to fit right in. If you fit in comfortably, it makes your life and everyone else’s life easier. 
Extrovert tendencies 
don’t be intimidated by people, don’t be shy or awkward 
It’s better to mix in being a combination of “social + slightly bored” like “it’s nice to meet you, but I wouldn’t die to be here.” 
Be open without jumping around like a Disney kid. Being “overexcited” or jumpy, smiling and laughing at just about everything comes across as weird in some cultures, IF that’s not how you genuinely are. That might work in the US, but not everywhere else. 
If I had to very simply define an extrovert - approach new people with ease, learn the art of small talk and be a good listener. 
Confident 
have a sense of self: career, hobbies, likes or dislikes, experiences
Be a multi faceted person. Do things that YOU like. If you like reading Japanese literature and collecting quartz, great! That’s your thing! 
Good communication skills
articulate, small talk abilities, good listener, curious, engaging
be able to tell little stories about yourself without giving everything away 
Well dressed 
do an image consultation for your colours, understand your body shape type and find a style that works for you
Create a capsule wardrobe that is timeless 
Remember - modesty is ALWAYS the best idea for any event. 
Posture - stand up straight, be able to walk in heels, sit without slouching
if you don’t know how to walk in heels, learn to. Practice it. 
Sit up straight, do some yoga or something for good posture 
Maintenance- good skin, hair, fit body, skin, nails, teeth; good hygiene; smell good 
hygiene comes first. Shower regularly, wash your hair as often as needed. 
Put on perfume. 
Find a make up style that works for you. Again, this takes practice. It took me years to figure out what kind of eyeliner works on my eyes and that bronzer doesn’t suit me at all. Crazy make up, unnatural hair colours, visible tattoos or piercings will not sit well in these societies. 
Etiquette 
dining etiquette- learn how to eat properly. This is not just for white culture but for other cultures as well. Understand broadly how popular cultures etiquettes work - Japanese eating etiquettes, European fork and knife etiquette, Korean drinking etiquette, Indian and Middle Eastern etiquette, etc. 
giving appropriate gifts to the host - bottle of wine or flowers 
Learn thank you etiquette- shoot a text message to the host thanking them for the event 
Intelligence
Show that you have some sort of a personality. 
Stay updated with current affairs
know your line of work and the relevant people (top companies, CEOs, etc), trends happening in your industry 
Be open to learning new things  
Put together
have a routine, show some form of discipline. 
This can be done by committing to something long term, such as healthy habits - exercise, reading, waking up early. 
Keep a watch on what you say 
people, especially women, who come across as bratty are seen as a big no no and can come across as exhausting and blood sucking. Zip it. 
Don’t talk about your failures, vulnerabilities, mistakes or mishaps. That’s confidential. 
Don’t complain or be snotty or a potty mouth. 
Do not put other people down in front of people who are not your absolute close friends. 
Poise (this is for your mental health and wellbeing)
Don’t be over eager. Being overly friendly can be seen as submissiveness. 
You’re overly friendly with someone because you want to be accepted by them. Acceptance only happens when you’re familiar with one another. When you become too familiar, it becomes a breeding ground for disrespect. Boundaries get crossed easily. 
Body language
practice practice and practice. 
Video yourself and have a fake conversation with someone. Or maybe FaceTime a friend and record yourself and see how you react to things. 
I used to watch those “try not to laugh/ get angry/ cry” videos to maintain a strong facial expression at all times. Not everyone deserves to see you vulnerable. 
Social media 
Take. Shit. Down. 
Go private if you don’t make money of social media. You’re perceived as more mysterious if you’re a private account. 
Remember, even if you’re private, it doesn’t mean that your pictures aren’t being shared. Someone’s taken a screenshot at some point for SURE or shown your account to someone else. Don’t give anyone anything to talk about. 
Don’t upload every second of every day. 
Don’t upload anything questionable- your break ups, your new boyfriend, girls nights, clubbing, your latest shopping spree etc etc. Keep things halal. Think of it this way - if your boss were to see those photos, how would you feel?
Overexposing yourself on social media comes across as desperate for attention. Limit that.
Cherry 🍒
121 notes · View notes
suzukiblu · 7 months
Note
For the guessing game: Kent 👀👀
Just, like, of course Kon's not Clark's . . . family, or whatever. Of course he's just like that one weird kid from down the street that somebody occasionally invites over out of pity who only learns the family secrets by accident or through osmosis and isn't actually kept in the loop or anything. Kon knows that.
But watching Jon beam up at his dad and Clark smile down at his son is still making him want to curl up and die right here and now.
Kon does kind of wonder what it's like to be, like . . . loved, or whatever.
Everybody always makes it sound really nice.
"Dinner's about ready," Clark says. "You two mind setting the table?"
"Sorry, I gotta get going," Kon says instead of admitting he has no idea how to set a fucking table, especially not to whatever Martha Kent's standards are. Cadmus did not actually see fit to educate him on typical household chores and he has very rarely ever sat down at any semblance of a normal family dinner. Like, in Hawaii they all just ate wherever and not even all together half the time, and Cadmus has a cafeteria, and Young Justice just dumps a pile of junk food or takeout on the nearest unoccupied surface and they all just go to town on it like the weird gaggle of semi-superpowered and usually-ravenous teenagers that they are.
He could look it up on his phone, and he probably will later, but there's no way he's gonna run the risk of getting caught looking it up on his phone. Like–no. Never, thanks. Miss him with that particular little bit of "further proof of being a fake person" humiliation.
So it's . . . whatever, he guesses.
"Well, that's alright, we'll just have to catch you another time," Clark says with a polite smile that looks nothing like the one he was just wearing for Jon, and doesn't even fake like he's disappointed or like he's gonna miss him. Because like . . . why would he, after all?
Kon misses him all the time, but . . .
164 notes · View notes
Hiii! Could you write full headcanon for the M6 with an MC who is the embodiment of the “cute but intimidating” trope please? They’ll smile, wearing cutesy stuff, one second and will annihilate (verbally or physically) someone to defend themselves/their loved ones. I mainly thought of this because I think some of them (Ilya) would be head over heels for someone like that lol
The Arcana HCs: M6 with a cute but intimidating MC
~ I hope you don't mind, anon, but the mental image I keep getting is of a lolita with insane martial arts skills so that's the path I'm taking with these XD - brainrot ~
Julian
As suggested, he is head over heels for you
He loves it when you take the lead. And when that means standing up for him and absolutely annihilating whoever was trying to make him feel small or insignificant all while looking like a snack?
He's proposing. He's proposing today.
He also enjoys indulging any and all of your cutesy habits. He has plenty of (fake) pirate's gold to grab that cute top you were looking at, or keep you well stocked with flowers for your shop/apartment
Will play along with however cutely you act or accesorize
The whole south end knows that their dear Dr Devorak has found The One when they seem him out with you, shamelessly sporting a frilly bow with his usual goth aesthetic and practicing "uwu" speech
(you didn't ask him to do either of those things, he's just whipped)
Somebody did, at some point, mention that you and Portia are very similar in your "looks sweet but can easily destroy you" vibes
It sent Julian into a downward spiral that took a week to get him out of
Asra
They are living for the duality
He's all about free expression, so seeing you be so unashamedly yourself is one of his favorite things in the world
Not to mention that they quite like your fashion sense. They have a bad habit of borrowing some of your clothing items without asking
He meant to ask, he just forgot, and that's why you can't find that Hello Kitty bucket hat. Or those sparkly purple hair clips. Or the tie dye crop top. Or the -
You know what, forget it, they will more than make it up to you by picking up whatever cutesy thing they find on their trips for you
He loves it when people underestimate you because it means he gets to watch you prove them wrong
Exactly the kind of person to hint at a troublemaker's imminent downfall, so that once they confront them about it, they can pull the classic "Oh, I can't hurt you. But they can!" with a shit-eating grin
Likes to make frilly collars/sweaters for Faust to wear so she can be an added intimidating fashion accessory for you
Nadia
She is respectfully intrigued
People at her station tend to gravitate towards aesthetics that suggest power, influence, wealth, or education
It's not that she thinks a cute person can't be any of those things (you are clear proof otherwise), but she's just never seen it done before and she's absolutely fascinated by your design choices
The way you portray one trait while consistently exhibiting another is inspiring and she would like to see more of that please
She is going to challenge herself to design a full combat/training outfit for you, in the cutest design she can come up with
Your sword has flowers carved in the hilt and sparkly gemstones in your favorite colors
She gets flustered every time she remembers you prettying up your sword by tying a hair ribbon on it, only to challenge a noble with it two minutes later for being snobby towards you
You're going to need multiple walk-in closets for all of the cutesy clothes and hidden weapons she's about to gift you
Muriel
He's really not sure what to do with you
He appreciates the softness of your aesthetic, and as much as he likes to grumble, your sweet smiles really brighten up his day
But that kind of shiny can be a little intimidating
And then Morga decided to show you some tough love and teach you how to fight, and oh boy. You're terrifying and it's attractive.
To say that he likes you against his will is an understatement but he will be the first to admit that he's glad it happened anyways
He did like seeing how easily you stood up to Morga, though. He's not used to the feeling of being protected
But as much healthy fear and total fondness he has for you, there is one area of his life that he shares with you which he refuses to budge on
And that is his choice in decor for the hut
You want frilly curtains. Muriel doesn't even want windows
He does find that your embroidered pillow is very comfortable, though, so the bed is yours to decorate as you see fit
Portia
Well aren't you just two peas in a pod
You like cute things? She likes cute things! You like to be friendly to everyone? She likes to be friendly to everyone! You like to put the fear of the unholy into people you don't like? OMG, her too!
The whole world is terrified of you, especially after Nadia saw fit to give you two a ship and significant governmental power with the purpose of establishing Vesuvia as a relevant nation
You also only serve to intensify each other's love of aesthetic cuteness
Portia's cottage has reached a whole new level of "cottage core." You have crocheted napkin rings and matching frilly aprons now
You made cookies shaped like cat butts together and Pepi was so offended that she sulked for a whole 20 minutes
The ambassador ship has sunset sails with flowers painted on them (courtesy of Asra)
Oh, and you've started a fight club in the ship's hold for any sailors interested in testing their mettle against the two of you after the day's duties are finished. You and Portia have an unbroken tie
Lucio
You are a person after his own heart
What, you think he doesn't support being extra and scary at the same time? Please, just look at his golden arm. It does not need to have that much detailing but here he is and he's fabulous
And so are you! Between his mother's tribe, being part of an army, and then being a count, he hasn't spent much time around people who are "cutesy" but he finds that he really likes it
Do not take him to look at accessories with you. This man is a magpie and you are 87% of his impulse control. It is a Bad Idea
If it sparkles and it matches you he will wear it (even if it clashes)
He is also very, very attracted to powerful people. He discovered a whole new level of simping the first time you defended his honor against someone who kept mentioning the "ex-count of Vesuvia"
He will now try to lean into any situation that could potentially end with him getting insulted so he can watch you do that again
He will let you put bows in Mercedes and Melchior's fur
224 notes · View notes
chronicbeans · 11 months
Text
Human Illustrator Wally x Reader (Part 9) (End)
Sleepover time!!!
TW: Hallucinations, Depression/Anxiety
🐻 The weekend comes quicker than you expected. Wally brought Barnaby and Julie brought Sally Starlet. THE Sally Starlet. You quickly introduce yourself to them, showing them around the house. You mainly just show them simple things, like where the restrooms are, the kitchen, what's available in the fridge and such.
🐻 Sitting in the living room, you all talk about what to do. Julie excitedly says "WW SHOULD DO MAKEOVERS! That is like... NUMBER ONE on ANY sleepover list!" That doesn't really surprise you. What DOES surprise you, however, is Barnaby agreeing. "Yeah! That does sound pretty fun! I've never had a makeover. Most I've gotten was my nails done."
🐻 Next thing you know, you are having your makeup done by Sally Starlet. She excitedly talks to you, saying "It is so lovely to meet you! Oh! Just call me Sally or Sal, by the way. I am not one for formalities. You are going to look even more gorgeous than you already do, by the end of this!"
🐻 You have a lot of fun getting your makeup done. You do notice, however, that Wally looks rather... upset? Anxious? You don't know what he is feeling exactly, but it is clearly not happy... Then, noticing his quick and slightly frantic way of looking around, you grow even more concerned. Barnaby must've noticed it, too, as he gently pulls Wally aside and into another room.
🐻 For the rest of the night, you don't see the two of them, much. It's mostly just you, Julie, and Sally talking about whatever and doing whatever. Not that "whatever" isn't fun. It really is! From pillow fights, singing contests, to board games... You enjoy your first "real" sleepover a lot, actually! It is just that you are a bit worried about Wally.
🐻 "Sal, did you see Eddie and Frank the other day? They were so cute! They were in Howdy's little cafe area on a date. I saw them chattering away through the window in the most cute display of... CUTENESS!" You look over, a bit shocked. "You know Eddie Dear?" Sal gasps, nodding "Of course! He is actually pretty big in our little circle. Julie met him during... what was it? Middle school or high school?" "High school. He was a fish out of water! I helped him out when it came to socialization. He is so nice! Just a bit awkward."
🐻 Somehow, the conversation quickly moves through each member of the friend group. Of course, nobody is spoken badly of. The most is a polite little tease, followed by a barrage of compliments. When it comes to Wally, though, the whole mood shifts.
🐻 "(Y/N)... You know about Wally's... his hallucinations, right?" Sally asks, clearly treading carefully in case you didn't know about them. Julie tenses, as well, most likely having not thought about the possibility of you not knowing about them. "Yeah, he told me about them. I've been supporting him when it comes to that. I work with some kids who hallucinate, too. It isn't a problem." "Oh, thank goodness! He finally got the courage to let someone know early on... None of us see them as a problem... It's just frustrating to see him set himself up for failure in certain ways, especially regarding that."
🐻 Julie laughs "Exactly. In a more perfect world, he probably wouldn't need to tell somebody about them... but with how widely it can change his mood and such, it is good to know early on. Plus, if somebody doesn't like him because of it, like... SOME people... then they don't deserve him. Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" You nod, shrugging your shoulders "Yeah. Plus, people just gotta be prepared. I'm lucky to be rather educated on such topics. Others may not be, so they need that time to get caught up and figure out how best to help when needed..." You then look around "Have any of you seen Wa- I mean... Mr. Darling?"
🐻 They both shake their heads. You decide to go and search for him. Stepping through each room, you look around for either him or Barnaby. It is a lot quicker than you thought, because you find Barnaby sitting outside your room. You smile, asking "Hey, Mr. Beagle, have you seen Mr. Darling?" He looks up to you, nodding. "Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but he felt a bit overwhelmed. So, we found a random room and chatted for a bit. He went to bed early, putting a sleeping bag on the floor. I only really realized that it was your room after he already fell asleep. You can go check on him, if you want."
🐻 You smile "Oh, it's no problem. I was mostly worried that he might be upset or something. I'll go check on him. Sally and Ms. Joyful are in the living room if you want to go join them." After that, you enter your room to check on Wally.
🐻 He's lying in a sleeping bag on the floor, in front of your bed. The room is dark, except for your little night lamp, which projects small stars on the ceiling. Unlike what Barnaby said, though, he clearly isn't asleep. Instead, he is lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes are wide, full of fright, which clues you in that he might be seeing something that isn't there. You don't want to assume, however, so you sit next to him and begin talking.
🐻 "Hey, are you okay? Barnaby told me you were asleep, but I just wanted to check to be sure." He keeps his eyes trained upwards, but speaks slowly in response. "Home followed me here... Up there." He points to the ceiling directly above his face, continuing "Home is watching me. It's so rare that I see it... but it decided to show itself tonight, of all nights... I'm sorry to be a party pooper... Hahaha."
🐻 You look up to where he is pointing, seeing nothing but the pretty blue, yellow, and red stars above. You ask "You have no reason to be sorry. Can you tell me what Home looks like? I want to understand a bit better, so I can help better. You deserve help." "It's a large window, with a large eye behind it. It is just watching, tonight, not saying a word. The space around is is dark." "Okay."
🐻 You thing for a moment, before lying down on the floor next to him. "You deserve to be happy, you know that... right?" you ask, waiting for him to respond. He doesn't, causing a small pit to grow in your stomach. You continue talking, hoping to distract him and bring up his morale.
🐻 "You deserve to be happy. Actually, you deserve so much more than that. You deserve happiness, peace of mind, to be loved, and to live. Everybody deserves that, which means that you deserve it, too. No matter what Home or anyone or anything else says, you deserve that. No matter what you believe, you deserve that. I don't know if you believe that at the moment, but if you don't, I hope there is a time in your life when you realize that it is true. It took me a while, but I eventually did, and now my life is a little bit better."
🐻 You look back over to him, seeing that he has closed his eyes. You hear him take a deep breath, in and out, before he opens them, again. He turns his head towards you, a small, weak smile on his face.
🐻 "You'll stay by my side through this, right, (Y/N)?" You won't leave, right?" "I would never dream of it, Mr. Darling." "Call me Wally." "Okay. I would never dream of it, Wally." ... "Thank you."
203 notes · View notes
carefulfears · 1 year
Note
“i owe you everything. scully, you owe me nothing” is one of the most insane pieces of dialogue ever written. It drives me out of my mind. It’s such a glimpse into mulders character and his idea of love
GODDD it really is, isn’t it?? she’s given her entire life to him, to following him. she’s lost time and health and family members. she's been pulled away, and clawed right back.
and the thing about it is, that she dedicated herself to him before she had skin in the game. before it was personal to her. she leaned against him in the rain and asked "where are we going?" and she followed, because she joined the FBI to help people, and she realized quickly that trying to help in the federal government, gets you to the basement.
she asked him where they were going and she followed to wherever the answer was because he saw her vulnerable and scared in that motel room and he wrapped her up and sat below her on the floor. she spends so much of season one wide-eyed looking up at him, asking him questions, watching him, taking in that wild goodness that she wants to be a part of.
and five years in, he stands in the hallway, and he tells her that she saved him. that she made him a whole person. that she owes him NOTHING. and all she can do is cry. like, literally all there is for her to do is look up at him with tears streaming down her face, and hold onto him. there's such grief in that moment. there’s such grief in being needed. in being absolved.
rob bowman directed that scene and he talked about the moment when scully comes to tell mulder that she's leaving, and she just turns around and runs for the elevator, and "she never makes it. this was her first mistake."
they may not owe each other anything, depending on who you ask, but they will give each other everything.
bowman continued, "she has made him feel not like an outcast, not like discarded FBI trash, but actually somebody that's worthy of her friendship. that, as he says, she's made him a whole person."
it's amazing that someone who has moved an educated doctor to give over her entire life to hunting aliens she doesn’t believe in, can see the world this way.
are we whole when alone? when down in the basement, when we’re not believed or listened to, when everyone is spooked?
is he whole when his last evidence of capability for connection and being loved, disappeared at 8 years old?
love, to mulder, is an empty room. it’s walking through fire, not because you have to, but because someone wants to see you burn. it’s stepping onto a porch in new england with open arms and being cut off with a sharp hand.
love, to mulder, is a responsibility. and spending the rest of your life atoning for the failure.
he owes her everything, even when she has one foot out the door. he asks for nothing in return.
she cries at the weight of it all, and she gets back up and follows.
244 notes · View notes
Colin Morgan has an exclusive brand new in-depth interview with Radio Times
Tumblr media
In brand new thriller Dead Shot – which arrived on Sky Cinema and NOW last week – former Merlin star Colin Morgan stars as Irish paramilitary Michael, who is on the verge of retirement when his pregnant wife is brutally murdered by a British army soldier.
Based on an original screenplay by Top Boy creator Ronan Bennett and directed by brothers Tom and Charles Guard, it's a harrowing film that takes place during the height of the Troubles in 1975, following Michael as he embarks on a revenge mission that sends him to the heart of IRA operations in London.
When Morgan first got his hands on the "page-turning" script, he was struck by a number of things, not least the contradictions inherent in his character, and he was especially won over by a certain ambiguity regarding who the audience should be rooting for.
"As a Northern Irish guy, you think I'd be biased to one side, but it's absolutely seeing both sides of this tale and this drama," he tells RadioTimes.com in an exclusive interview. "And so it says quite a lot that I was kind of on both camps, I think that's quite an achievement.
"Contradictions are the main thing I look for," he adds. "You see somebody in a cause that some men were drawn into in the late '60s and early '70s in Northern Ireland, particularly in the border counties. And I'm wondering, if I was born around that time would I have been any different? Might the times have dictated what I needed to do to survive as a man?
"Those are the things that are compelling to me... he wants to be a dad, he wants to survive his future. At the very beginning of the film it feels like he's just about to begin the rest of his life, he's left the cause behind, and it just gets taken away from him in a second."
In preparing for the film, it helped a great deal that Morgan himself grew up in Armagh, the same town that Michael is from. Despite growing up in a different era, the star was very much able to draw on his own personal experiences when it came to getting a handle on the character.
"One thing I said to the Guard brothers before I started was I'm gonna bring everything I bring to the character from my point of view, but also the stuff of just being someone who grew up in Armagh," he says.
"You get that for free, because that's the complication of living in a place like that, even though I grew up in the tail end of things – it is just part of your culture and in your blood. You see all those things growing up, and they're just in my own kind of memory bank. So while I didn't go through the times, I was certainly surrounded by adults who did."
Dead Shot isn't Morgan's first project in recent years to be set against the backdrop of the Troubles. In 2021, he had a key role in Sir Kenneth Branagh's Oscar-winning coming-of-age film Belfast, and the actor has clearly found it an immensely rewarding experience to see audiences drawn in by these stories. 
"Particularly with Belfast, there's something kind of amazing about seeing something that's such a part of you reach the world and resonate with people in a universal way," he says. "When you see your story, or you hear your accent, there's just something about you that connects with that.
"And then when you hear other people the world over do that as well, you can't help but feel a sense of pride that your identity is being recognised."
In addition to the knowledge of the conflict he had accumulated while growing up in Northern Ireland, Morgan did plenty of research into the Troubles to prepare for his role in Belfast. He says this came in handy once again for the new film, but stresses that Dead Shot itself is not necessarily "concerned about trying to educate people about the times in Northern Ireland".
"Not every film that deals with the Northern Irish issue has to go into all those details," he says. "That's what I thought was refreshing about this. But it's important as an actor just to be familiar with those things, whatever period that – it's always worth doing, and I always do it."
One of the most intriguing aspects of the film is the complexity regarding Michael's adversary Tempest, played by Aml Ameen. Although by no means portrayed in a straight-forwardly sympathetic light, the character is not presented as an out-and-out villain either – but rather a vulnerable person who has been thrown into a horrible circumstance by odious bosses. Meanwhile, the fact that Tempest is a Black man living in a time when racism was commonplace undoubtedly adds to this complexity.
"One of the things I said to the directors right from the start was that there was a lot more that bound these two guys than divided them," Morgan says of the relationship between Michael and Tempest. "They're both in London, which was a place at the time that had [signs saying], 'No dogs, no Blacks, no Irish'.
"So these are actually both very outsider characters who were treated differently – when an Irish man went to London in those times there was complete shunning of them as well. So they're guys who know what it is to be shunned, rejected, and treated as the other. And the fact that they find themselves caught in this tragedy against each other, it's a shame in a way.
"The sad thing about that particular time in Northern Ireland was that so much division between religions and nationality prevented so much integration," he adds. "And it's still unfortunately very present in Northern Ireland to this day – it's getting less so, but it's hard to think it'll ever go away.
"It's terrible to think that people connecting on a human level is prevented by something like a label or identity or nationality, whatever it is. Your best friend could have been the one that was serving in the army except you were just on the other end of the lines."
Although the film is set primarily in London, the shoot itself actually took place in Glasgow – with a number of London buses and other identifying features brought in to help transform the Scottish city into something resembling the UK capital. This was an interesting experience for Morgan, especially considering he has his own history with the city.
"I actually went to drama school in Glasgow, I went to the Royal Scottish [Conservatoire]," he says. "And the odd thing was that I hadn't really been there since I graduated and I found myself staying in an apartment that was right opposite the apartment I stayed in in my second year at drama school.
"It was this weird kind of full circle moment of suddenly there I was, like 15/20 years later. I could practically still see through the window of that apartment and see the 20-year-old me wondering, 'Oh, I wonder if this whole acting thing will ever work?'"
Of course, it wasn't long after graduating before Morgan's acting career very much did work. Following a number of early roles on stage and screen, including the Doctor Who episode Midnight, his big breakthrough came in 2008 when he was cast as the title character of BBC One's fantasy series Merlin – a show that went on to run for five highly successful seasons.
The series has retained a cult following since it ended in 2012, and some fans have long clamoured for some sort of reunion or reboot. But although Morgan thinks back fondly on his time on the show, returning to the role doesn't appear to be something he's considering any time soon.
"I think most actors are more about progression and moving forward and don't often look back," he explains. "Even on stage, sometimes plays I've done have wanted to remount and come back again, and I often found I don't take up those opportunities because I've wrung the towel dry and I've rinsed what I could out of it.
"That's certainly what I've tried to do with every project, it's like I invest every 110% into it so hopefully by the end of it, I feel like I've done all I could. And certainly on projects like Merlin, I felt like yeah, we definitely did that together as a team and it's certainly [something I] look back on and feel very proud of the work that I and everyone did."
Tumblr media
On the subject of moving forward, Morgan has a number of other imminent projects in the pipeline. He has a key role alongside Jessica Lange, Ed Harris and Ben Foster in a new film adaptation of Eugene O'Neill's classic play Long Day’s Journey Into Night; he will star opposite Emma Appleton in the upcoming Paramount Plus legal thriller The Killing Kind; and he is currently filming a project which he can't yet disclose. The keys to the roles he's been looking for in recent times, he says, are variety and collaboration.
"I look for things I haven't done before, I look for challenges, I look for versatility, I look for passionate people," he explains. "I think more so than anything, what seems to be top of my list now is collaborators – people who have this kind of notion of bringing you into the fold and wanting to work with you not just to deliver the acting goods, but to know what you feel about the scripts and the story and have your input.
"And that's my background. My first jobs were all new writing in theatre and working with writers and developing and progressing and shaping things together. And that's what I thrive on more than anything in the world.
"That seems to be what people are wanting these days, I think the landscape has changed. People are really wanting multidisciplinary actors, and that's worth knowing for anybody wanting to come into the business: don't just be thinking about the acting, think about 360 degrees of everything."
189 notes · View notes
orangepanic · 18 days
Text
I'm probably going to regret this later.
I had a good friend say to me recently that she's not reading any more books by white men. Clearly she was looking for congratulations. Instead, all I could feel was sadness.
To me, the point of pushing for diversity and representation in media is exactly that. Diversity, and not just to put points on a scoreboard or get kudos from your socially-minded friends but because you actually care about broadening your mind. For too long, too few people's perspectives and experiences have been overrepresented in history and popular culture, which limits our thinking and perpetuates the kinds of marginalization and discrimination that hurt society as a whole. We need to actively, aggressively correct that. But to me that means a process that is additive, not subtractive.
Add books to your reading list by people from different backgrounds and cultures, or that center characters who aren't like you. And "aren't like you" should be broad. Read a different genre than you'd normally pick up. Read about somebody older or younger than you, someone whose brain works differently, or someone who grew up in a different part of the country, even if they might look like you on the outside. Do this, but don't only do this to the point that reading becomes a chore or a performative action, or to the point where you're now cutting out other perspectives entirely. I hear so many sad stories these days about how little people read, and I think part of that is because there's been a push for reading as a requirement, as education, and that only certain kinds of books are okay to read because they contribute to this goal. That's such crap. Read what you want because it is fun! But then also add to that experience with new, different books. You never know what else you might like (looking at you, native Hawaiian vampire story). Growing your reading pie isn't about "no more of this" but "yes, more of that."
And the same can be said for fandom. Fandom has always been as space for people to explore different kinds of characterizations and relationships that aren't heavily reflected in popular culture. That's largely why we have transformative works. But lately I see this almost puritanical push in fandom for everything to check certain boxes when the whole point of fandom and fan creations is to make shit up. Don't see enough hairy-chested mlm werewolves on screen? Draw your favs as hairy gay werewolves who kiss! And if you've never thought about your OTP as werewolves, be open-minded enough to explore it, or to read someone else exploring it just to see how it is and stretch your brain a bit. Maybe you'll like it, or learn about werewolves. Maybe you'll hate it. Either way, support each other.
And like the books, this process should be additive. Push yourself to be open to more ships and interpretations of characters and canon. Also, curate your fandom experience, and if you explore something and it isn't for you, that's okay. It's for somebody else. And the fact that it contains no werewolves doesn't make it wrong, or boring, or toxic, or anti-werewolf, or something you need to tell the creator not to make anymore because you want to be seen in online spaces as coming out against what is unpopular so that you, by reflection, will look popular. If you do this you're looking for the fandom equivalent of kudos for saying you'll never read a book by a white man, leaving everything from Neil Gaiman to Tolkien on the table and thinking that makes you look progressive instead of sad and small and like you're trying desperately to sit at the right table in middle school. In short, fandom isn't a zero sum game any more than reading is. And real diversity in fandom means adding in the content and perspectives and characters we're missing, both on and off-screen, (and not just the ones you like, but the ones you might not) as well as not weeding out the ones that we already have. We can have more together, not less.
46 notes · View notes