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#im probably missing something uhh

hoekyeom · 4 months

Text

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@gyusinning | thank you for reading!

#svt smut #svt x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you

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sungbeam · 9 months

Text

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

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

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

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

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

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

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

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

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

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

"How bad?" He asked.

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

"I'm—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

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

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

A guy could dream though, right?

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

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo?”

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

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

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

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

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

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

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

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

A guy could dream, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

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

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

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

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

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

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

“But!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

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

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

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

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

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

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

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

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

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

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

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

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

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

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

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Us.

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” Sunwoo said, without even waiting for you to finish your rambling.

You paused, and he rejoiced in the pure delight on your face. “Really? That’s—this is great. Wait, I’m so excited! We’ll need to find a private place to listen, but—”

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

Coming in from the front lobby doors was none other than Han Jisung, a fellow second-year whom Sunwoo was familiar with. He was bundled in a massive, puffy cream jacket with his head shoved into a beanie, and his nose was reddened from the cold. Jisung tucked the earbuds in his ears away into their case, waddling over to you both with the joy of a baby penguin. “And Sunwoo! Woah, it’s so cool to see you, man. What’s up?”

Sunwoo clasped his hand in his. “S’cool to see you, too, dude. Yn and I were just on our way out.”

Jisung moved over to you and pulled you in for an affectionate side hug. “Oh, well, that’s nice to hear,” he snickered, wagging his eyebrows at you while you sent him a pointed look.

Wonder what that was all about…

“Anyways,” continued Jisung, “I just came by to bother Channie-hyung. Is he in the box?”

You bobbed your head in affirmation. “Yup. There isn’t anyone else with him right now, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty of space for you to bug him.”

“Nice,” he grinned. As he walked away in the direction from which you and Sunwoo came, he sent a wave. “See you both around!”

“Bye!” Both you and Sunwoo called back before resuming your walk out the front entrance.

“So how do you—” The two of you laughed when you both started talking at the same time, saying the same thing. Sunwoo gestured toward you, insisting that you ask the question first. You did: “So how do you know Jisung?”

Sunwoo snorted at the memory. “I, uh, saw him in the hall once and smacked his ass, then asked for his number.”

You had to stop to double over in laughter, clutching your stomach while Sunwoo looked on in flustered amusement. Your face had heated up considerably, and you barely managed to follow him down the steps toward the bus stop. “You what?” You asked, once you could get out anything other than wheezes.

He chuckled, shrugging. “Okay, well, I actually know him from this music summer camp we both went to in high school. I didn’t realize he came to this uni until I saw him last year and… well, made my presence known to him.”

You clapped your hands together and collapsed onto the bus bench. “I was gonna say—that’s one hell of a hello.”

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

The two of you shared a laugh for a moment and Sunwoo took a seat beside you, his knee bouncing up and down as you waited for the bus to come by. He nudged your shoulder with his. “So what about you then? How do you know Han?”

“Hm? Ah, I just know him ‘cause we share the same major-ish. I’m sound and music production, and he’s just a general music major,” you explained. “We also share a composition class, as well as a writing course. Did you know the guy is a fantastic poet?”

Sunwoo’s eyebrows arched upward. “I would not be surprised; the guy’s an ace.”

“Totally agree.” You fidgeted with your phone between your hands. “He was also one of my first friends here after I transferred. He’s kind of shy, but he’s one of the good eggs you can meet.”

A nod. He glanced over at you, his eyes breathing in the far away look on your face. “Yeah, he is. But hey, at least you got to befriend him then, hm? Maybe some things are just meant to be.”

You met his gaze and Sunwoo felt his heart stutter into a gallop. “Yeah,” you murmured, “I think so, too.”

— ✶

You and Sunwoo ended up in one of the booths of the restaurants on the Avenue. It was a cozy, little hole in the wall with soup that tasted like home and made your belly feel warm and content. You had set up shop at your table, your laptop with the audio file pulled up and your wired earbuds plugged in. You had to power all of your will into not showing Sunwoo how nervous you were for him to listen to this—your fingers shook slightly even as you passed him both of your earbuds.

In an attempt to pass off as cool, calm and totally collected, you brought your glass of water to your mouth to sip on. You'd thought to order food first, then let Sunwoo listen to the file.

"Let me know if you can't hear anything," you blurted out just before he put the buds in.

He paused, then smiled. "I got it," he assured you warmly.

Once the buds were fitted and the song started playing, you could only wait and watch to gauge his reaction.

At first, his eyes widened a smidge. Then he slowly began nodding to the beat, eyes falling closed as he soaked in the electric guitar chords mixed in that Jisung helped you out with. You watched him lean back in his seat… saw the smile bloom on his face, wide like a flower opening its petals to greet the brilliant sun.

And that beautiful smile… oh, he was so pretty when he smiled.

It was a couple minutes later that his eyelids finally fluttered open, and yet that smile on his face remained ingrained there. He passed you your earbuds as you awaited the verdict. "Girl, you've got pipes," he said with emphasis, his face screwed up in an expression one could only describe as appreciative. "Like—oh my god, I want that bridge tattooed on my forehead," he groaned and leaned forward to bury his face in his palms.

Your heart could fly, soar, literally ascend to fucking space! You smiled, big and wide, as you wrapped up the wire chords around three fingers. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Liked it?" He perked up, then melted to the table as he mumbled into his hoodie sleeve, "I could kis…" You didn't catch the end bit of his sentence as his voice dissipated into the fabric of his shirt.

"What'd you say?"

When he lifted his head, his cheekbones had flushed a shade of rose gold. He cupped the back of his neck with a nervous laugh, "Nothing! It was nothing. I just—I just love it, Yn. Really, I mean it. I'm not just saying that because we're friends—"

"Ah, so we're friends?" You jested, even as your heart skipped like a pebble across the surface of a lake.

Sunwoo blinked, lips pursed. "We're not friends?"

"No, I'm only kidding!" You said and leaned your cheek against your fist. "Your reaction was cute though."

You swore something shuddered across his face, but you didn't have much time to analyze it when you felt a presence make himself clear at the head of the table.

Yangyang appeared in a warm-looking jacket and scarf, his eyes flickering curiously between you and Sunwoo. You suddenly felt an anxious spike in your chest at the thought of what this might have looked like to him. That was, until he saw the laptop, of course. You saw the relief in his shoulders, the ease in which he smiled now. "Hey Yn-ie, didn't know you'd be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo scratch his jawline, then scoot forward and offer his hand to Yangyang. "Hey, I'm Sunwoo. You're Yangyang, aren't you?"

Yangyang clasped Sunwoo's hand good naturedly with a typical gummy smile. "Yeah, that's me. It's nice to meet you."

"I was just showing him the project," you said next, drawing both of the boys' attention to you.

"Ah," your friend nodded. "How'd you like it, Sunwoo?"

Sunwoo lit up. "It was—incredible. I don't even know how to describe it, y'know? If it was on my Spotify, it'd probably be on my Wrapped."

There went your heart, goodness. You and Sunwoo locked eyes across the table, and you wished you could convey how much his words meant to you by just a look.

"Totally agree," Yangyang nodded. "My Yn-ie's got a gift and she knows how to use it." He gave your head a gentle pat, and heat rose to your cheeks from the bombardment of attention. It hit you subtly, an epiphany—

Yangyang cleared his throat then and returned his hand to his side. "Anyways, I'll leave you two to it. I'll talk to you later?" He asked you as he was already taking a step backward.

—the heat wasn't for him. It simply wasn't.

"Yeah! I'll shoot you a text later," you promised. You realized then that you had barely even spoken to Yangyang since your Valentine's Day date ended several weeks ago. There had just been a lot of mixed feelings churning around in your head that needed time to be sorted out. (And it was currently being resolved.) With a slight inward grimace, you turned your focus back to the guy you'd brought here in the first place.

Sunwoo slid your laptop over to your side of the table. "Soooo… you and Yangyang, huh?" He laughed, and you weren't certain, but it sounded a bit unsteady.

You played with the hem of your sweater sleeve. "I mean, kind of? Not really? We went on that date a while back, if you remember, but that's about it."

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, and we also haven't had time to really properly talk since?" You winced. "I guess it's not really as bad as I make it sound. It's just that, we've pretty much known each other since primary school. He had just moved from Taiwan, and we were pretty good friends. And he would move back and forth between here and this one town in Germany, but we would always—" you made a vague gesture, "—find each other? Is that the word?"

You let out a breathy sort of laugh. "I'm sorry, I dunno why I'm telling you my history with this guy. It's stupid."

Sunwoo frowned and shook his head. "It's not stupid, Yn."

You inhaled, then chewed on your cheek. "It's just that I always feel like people don't really stick around, at least for me. But Yangyang… he's been one of the few constants in my life, and I'm really grateful for that."

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' with this."

You indulged him. "But I'm starting to think that maybe I can't really see him as that kind of constant, if that makes sense." Your brows furrowed in thought. The boat you were on rocked roughly with the waves, the water turbulent and unsteady, as if at any moment it could throw you off. But you were used to the rocking, and you weren't sure why you should be so used to it. Settling for Yangyang even though you were beginning to realize that he probably wasn't The One? That was like staying docked in a home port you'd grown used to when you yearned for the horizon.

You heard Sunwoo crack his knuckles, and perhaps there really was a certain sheen to his eyes then. "I don't want to put words in your mouth," he drawled carefully, "and I can't imagine how exactly you feel and I don't know your whole story. But it has to be hard when it feels like, I don't know, like people are moving on without you." The earnestness in his eyes made his dark brown eyes deeper and richer. "And maybe it's comfortable with Yangyang and you want to try with him because you know that you two will always somehow find each other again."

"You kind of put what I was thinking into coherent sentences there," you mused, the corners of your lips curling upward.

Sunwoo reflected your expression. "That's good to hear, because I was pretty sure I sounded arrogant."

You laughed then, shaking your head. "No, I appreciated that. And you got it right." Breathing a sigh, you saw a waiter coming by to drop off the food the two of you had ordered. "I think it's just taken me some time with myself and with—with other people to make me realize it."

He glanced up with thanks as the waiter passed you your meals, and you swore you saw his hand make a move to reach for yours across the table. But he stopped short, and instead, helped move your hot bowl of soup over to you. "You never know," he said sheepishly, "The One could be right under your nose."

— ✶

eric 🤨: dude where did u go??? cobie hyung and i looked up and u disappeared into thin air

eric 🤨: omg jisung said u went somewhere w a GIRL??? IS THIS THE GIRL U WERE GETTING ALL DRUNK AND SAD ABT 👀

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

Sunwoo made a face around his toothbrush as he spat the frothy white into the sink bowl. “For the millionth time, yes.” Through the mirror, Sunwoo watched Eric’s face as his roommate perched himself atop the kitchen counter and went quiet, his face pensive. After coming home to Eric’s confrontation, Sunwoo promised to explain it all in the morning to him.

It was unfortunately the morning, meaning Sunwoo had spent the past hour bringing Eric up to speed on his nonexistent love life. Fortunately, it was also a Wednesday morning, which meant you had just posted your newest episode of the podcast, and Sunwoo could force Eric to listen to it with him. A part of him was tense at the thought of no longer “gatekeeping” his little secret that he had kept for the past several months, but this was Eric, one of his best friends. Maybe this would lift a weight off of Sunwoo’s chest by finally telling someone.

“...I’m still in the thrall of dead week,” your voice blasted from the speaker of Sunwoo’s phone at high volume, “and it’s come to my attention that next quarter will probably be a lot for me. I guess this is me forewarning you all that I might be late with some episodes because I’ve got this new internship thing.”

Sunwoo dunked his face into the sink bowl as he splashed water over his lathered foam cleanser. “She’s talking about her internship at the performing arts center.”

“How do you—never mind, forget I asked.”

Sunwoo patted his face dry, then opened the medicine cabinet for all of the skincare products he used to start off the day.

“...It’s been awhile since I’ve recommended something myself, so today, do enjoy ‘gone too long’ by lullaboy with me.” The song began a few seconds after you queued it up, and the apartment was then filled with muted vocals and strings.

Sunwoo straightened. He and Eric went quiet for a while as they both let the song sink in. Sunwoo continued to slather sunscreen on his face and neck, and Eric had started up the stove to make a batch of ramen for the both of them.

A peculiar sensation draped itself over Sunwoo’s shoulders, a blanket of something that wasn’t quite calm and wasn’t quite jittery. He didn’t know how to pinpoint or label the weird tightness in his chest. The song was strangely intimate, as almost all the music Sunwoo listened to was, but when it came from another person, it was always a whole new level of intimate. Whenever someone recommended a song, it was a way to view a piece of them—perhaps not a large piece, but a piece nonetheless. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then music was the viewfinder.

Maybe he missed you. But that didn’t make sense—it… it couldn’t make sense. He saw you yesterday, and he was listening to you now. How could he miss you?

“She has good taste,” Eric murmured as the song faded out.

Sunwoo nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah. She does.”

“...Hopefully when you miss me you’ll play that song,” he heard you say in a lighthearted tone, even though he felt almost like the complete opposite. “On that note, Rhaps sent in a message asking about the dance showcase coming up! ‘Are you planning on going, and if so, any acts you’re looking forward to? Isn’t it crazy that we could be sitting next to each other and never even know?’ —”

Eric perked up, his head peering over his shoulder to look at Sunwoo as he came out of the bathroom to join Eric in the kitchen. “That’s you? Rhaps?”

“Rhapsody Anonymous,” Sunwoo corrected. “And don’t judge me!” He added with a pointed look, finger jabbing in Eric’s direction.

Eric shook his head with a giddy sort of grin. “I didn’t say anything.”

For a moment, the two boys went quiet with only your voice and the sounds of the stove keeping them company.

A thought occurred to Eric though, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Does it ever feel like lying?” He asked and gestured for Sunwoo to grab a couple of bowls from the cabinet.

Sunwoo walked over with the soup bowls, then leaned his hip against the counter next to Eric. “Does what feel like lying?”

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

Well… Sunwoo idly scratched his jaw. “I guess I never thought about it like that,” he said. All this time, he’d figured it was probably better that he didn’t bring it up to you. After all, you used a pseudonym for a reason and didn’t show your face. Maybe this was just supposed to be your secret passion project that you used as a safe space. He didn’t want to burst your bubble by confronting you with that information. How would he even go about doing it? Oh hey, by the way, I’ve known that you’re this podcast host DJ Dove for a very long time? That probably had ‘awkward’ written all over it.

Eric passed him a pointed glance. “Something to think about then.”

— ✶

Finals week had come and gone, a hurricane of destruction in its own right. But when the storm passed, it gave way to the beautiful cherry blossoms blooming in the quad. As per university tradition, the quad was filled to the brim with students, staff, and tourists alike gathering to pose in the falling pink petals that marked the coming of Spring Break. This was no different for Sunwoo’s friend group who was dragged out to the event by none other than Choi Chanhee. In an effort to appease his friend in some aspect, Sunwoo had come dressed in something decently presentable: black cargo pants, blue denim jacket, and his face fitted in a pair of dark frames (that were definitely not just frames or missing the lenses…).

He shoved his hands into his pockets after taking a peak at the time on his watch. The group had been here for about ten minutes thus far, and half of them had already split off with their significant others to take their own rounds about the quad. They weren't the only ones—in fact, there were probably as many couples as there were people taking grad photos and cosplay photos.

And wait, someone had come in their wedding dress—nothing spelled out Sunwoo's singleness more potently than a couple getting married.

He took a panoramic glance and accidentally watched another couple go in for a kiss. He looked away with a slight frown, blowing a curl out of his eyes. "I hate this more than Valentine's Day," he grumbled.

From beside him, Kevin Moon sighed as he tested a shot with his camera and had to adjust the settings for the right exposure. "You're telling me." When he raised his camera up again, he immediately had to bring it back down with a deadpan expression, "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."

As the group's self-proclaimed Dad, Lee Sangyeon, summoned the attention of the boys who were present for a partial group photo. Sunwoo smiled for it, then returned to his frown. Chanhee had his camera held up as he attempted to take a selfie shot since he had been staking out this one tree trunk that a group of people had just left. Sunwoo had to admire the way Chanhee wordlessly swooped in like a vulture over a dead carcass.

"Aye, Kim Sunwoo," Chanhee exclaimed and beckoned Sunwoo over with a curl of his two fingers. Chanhee's head scanned the immediate area and his nose wrinkled when he realized he was missing someone. "Where did Changmin go? He was literally right… ah."

Chanhee's voice trailed off and a sly, little grin when he located the man in question. "Look."

Sunwoo followed Chanhee's gaze across the field to where he was sneaking up behind a familiar person. Sunwoo had met this girl twice, once when he and Changmin had gone looking for Jacob and the other when he went with Changmin to go see her for moral support. Both times, strangely, had been at the lab. Huh, did she even go home…?

But then Sunwoo observed the way Changmin and CM!Yn looked at each other. Though Sunwoo had seen Changmin's eyes light up before, this was a different sort of twinkle, something softer. There had always been a cloud hanging over Changmin when it came to this girl, always some kind of bittersweetness that held him back. It made a smile crawl onto his lips at the sight of Changmin so happy.

"Wah," Chanhee murmured in awe. "They really mended their relationship well, don't you think?"

Sunwoo pursed his lips with an indulgent nod. "Yeah, I'd think so."

His friend sighed. "Oh, well. Looks like it's just us two then."

Sunwoo stepped forward and took Chanhee's phone from him, swiftly changing it to the forward facing camera. Chanhee struck a few poses beneath the blush pink trees as he soaked in the golden hour sunlight streaking across the lawn. Eventually, Sunwoo turned the camera back around to take shots of both himself and Chanhee.

He adjusted the phone so that the selfie mode could capture both of them when he spotted Chanhee scuttling back over toward him with a pile of pink petals collected in his palms.

Sunwoo's eyes went wide and he leapt backward away from his grinning friend. "Hyung, come on, let's talk about this."

Chanhee cackled and inched forward still. His hair was the exact same color as the flowers cupped in his palms. "Sunwoo-ah," he sang, "I think your hair needs a bit of color."

"I just did my hair this morning!" He whined and pleaded desperately. The last thing he needed was to be plucking stray petals from his curls later tonight. When Chanhee still wouldn't quit, adrenaline began to pump through Sunwoo's veins in anticipation for what he needed to do next. "Chanhee hyung! We can be civil about this."

"Civility is overrated!"

Just as Chanhee pounced, Sunwoo swerved on the ball of his foot and made a mad dash toward the other side of the quad. Chanhee's giggles filled the late afternoon air like the twinkling of bells, and though it was probably an amusing sight for onlookers, Sunwoo was running for his life.

Sunwoo pumped his legs furiously as he weaved in between people standing and taking their pictures, screaming out apologies for photobombing them as he went. And when he nearly tripped over someone's dog, he managed to lock eyes with yours.

You. Oh my god, you were here.

He had little time to fully comprehend what he was about to do, but he made a beeline for you.

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

Sunwoo grabbed your shoulders and careened himself behind you, his face partially hidden behind yours. "I'm sorry, but—" he screeched, "—he's threatening to ruin my hair!"

Chanhee laughed as he stopped in front of you and Sunwoo. His pale cheeks were dusted with the color of the flowers in the air. "Ah, well, hello. This isn't very gentlemanly of you, Sunwoo. Who's this?" He threw Sunwoo a look over your shoulder.

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

Sunwoo laughed sheepishly and let go of your shoulders to clasp the back of his neck. It was only then he realized you were wearing a delicate, pastel sundress with cherry blossoms littered in your own hair. A gentle breeze wafted by and through your skirt and brushed back a few strands of your hair too.

Pretty…

"This is," he stammered, snapping out of his daze, "Yn. Yn-ie, this is one of my close friends, Chanhee."

"It's nice to meet you," Chanhee said with a warm smile and slight bow of his head.

You gave a little wave. "Nice to meet you, too, despite the circumstances."

"I would wave back," Chanhee gestured with his hand of flowers, "but this is a nice pile, don't you think?"

To your credit, you played along. You laughed, "I totally agree. It definitely should not be wasted on giving me a wave. Though, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to get back at Sunwoo." You turned your head and cocked a brow at him, to which he smiled back boyishly.

Chanhee considered you again for a moment. "I like your style. I guess I'll just… leave you to it then," he drawled and sent Sunwoo very pointed glances with his eyes toward you. Something about the way Chanhee's eyes narrowed minutely made Sunwoo want to hide behind you again.

Chanhee whistled a merry tune as he went on his way, leaving you and Sunwoo to your own devices as he probably went to go find his next victim.

"I'm so sorry about that," Sunwoo lamented as soon as Chanhee was out of ear shot. "I did not mean to make you a human shield."

You chuckled. "It's okay, dude, really. Definitely didn't think I'd find anyone I knew in this mess, so it's nice seeing you out here."

Sunwoo gave you yet another once over and felt heat crawl up the column of his neck. "I—you look really pretty," he said, gesturing to your outfit.

"Oh, thank you," you chirped. "You clean up quite well yourself."

The two of you shared a smile then and for a second, Sunwoo's mouth went dry and no words leapt from his tongue. They all remained lodged in his throat where his heartbeat went pitter-patter.

He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with you for a moment.

You made a vague nod toward one of the open benches lining the perimeter of the quad, an invitation. "Wanna come sit with me?"

"Do I?" Yes. The answer was yes.

When you and Sunwoo were seated side by side, centimeters separating your arms and legs from touching the other, his heart still had not settled. The adrenaline, in fact, also had her to dissipate. With wide eyes, he soaked everything in.

"Did you go to the winter showcase on Friday night?" He blurted, turning to you.

You met his gaze. "I did. It was such a cool experience, especially since it was my first time. Did you?"

He nodded, locking his lips. "I did, yeah," he murmured. "I had a couple friends performing, so we all went to cheer them on. It's always a really great time though; I'm glad you got to go."

"Oh, that's nice. I always find dancers so impressive," you said with a wistful gleam in your eyes. "Do you dance?"

He found himself fidgeting with Chanhee's phone that he still held onto in his lap. "A little," he admitted bashfully. "I took an intro to hip-hop class last year, and I sometimes dance with my friends. Just—not in public," he said.

For a second, something flickered across your face. But he must have been dreaming because it was gone as quickly as it came.

"So music and dance? You're a multi-talented threat, Sunwoo."

"Aw, not really," he giggled. He wanted to hide his burning face in the collar of his jacket, but there was something about you that also made him unafraid to show you this side of him. Actually, you made this side of him come out. He wasn't usually so terribly shy, always tumbling over his words and doing diction cartwheels… communications major, his ass. "What about you? You're literally a musical genius. You should be on my Spotify Wrapped, Yn."

This time, he could relish in making you flustered. "Aye, you can't say that and expect me not to wanna…" You lost your own words, biting your tongue.

He didn't know what got into him, but he leaned forward closer to you. "Expect you not to what?" He asked lowly, teasingly.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and he swore his own rapidly-beating organ was going to come flying out of his chest.

"Expect me not to—steal your glasses!" With a high-pitched squeal, you snatched the lensless frames from right off his nose.

Sunwoo gasped in scandal, diving to grab them back, but you had already stood up from the bench. "Yah! Those were expensive frames!"

Your face lit up as you donned them. "You'll have to take it off my face then!"

"Bet!" And he lurched after you as you took off into the setting sun.

Your voices echoed across the quad: "Jisuuuuuung! Jisung, save me!"

"Jisung can't save you when he's scared of me!"

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

"It's not a date!" Sunwoo stopped abruptly in the middle of his living room where he had been wearing a hole in the wood floors from pacing. He whirled on his sock-clad heels to face his sofa of judges, Changmin and Chanhee. Eric was out with his girlfriend watching the newest action movie that had come out over Spring Break. "She would say if it was a date, right?"

Chanhee smacked his palm against his forehead with a puff of air. Changmin, however, leaned back on the couch with a ponderous look on his face and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "She probably would. She seems like she has more balls than you."

"Hey!"

Changmin grinned. "Just saying." He then leaned down to pick up his duffle bag sitting at his feet. "I've gotta run now, but let me know how it goes."

Sunwoo leveled a scowl at him as he passed by to go to the door. "I hope CM!Yn trips you in the practice room."

"Into her arms!" He hollered back, which was swiftly followed by the front door slamming shut.

While Changmin was headed out to meet CM!Yn at the practice room for her first time returning to dance after three years, Sunwoo and Chanhee were left to prepare Sunwoo for today's agenda. Yesterday, you and he had traded numbers, to which you had immediately asked if he'd wanted to hang out with you some more over Spring Break. The answer had been as easy as counting to three.

Now the only problem was to not freak out over it.

"You're picking up lunch, aren't you?" Chanhee asked as he shoved Sunwoo into the bathroom.

Sunwoo nodded shallowly and picked up his round brush and blow-dryer. "Mhm. I'm meeting her at the performing arts building, and we're gonna take the metro up to Lake Anchor. Ever been up there?"

Chanhee fixed the collar of Sunwoo's white button-up, then snatched the brush and blowdryer out of his hands to do it for him. "Nope. Heard it's nice up there though."

"Yeah," Sunwoo muttered, nearly dropping the serum bottle in his hands. "She said her friend Sieun recommended it."

"Ah."

It wouldn't have felt like a date as much if Sunwoo hadn't searched up Lake Anchor when you'd texted him about it last night. The place was gorgeous, a certified calendar-worthy landscape with purple mountain majesties in the back and shores lined with emerald green hills and willow trees. It didn't help that the Reddit pages all deemed it a "couple's picnic spot you can't miss." Oh, he wasn't going to miss it, all right.

Thirty minutes later, he found himself outside the doors to the performing arts center where you said you were currently taking a tech lesson from Bang Chan. He had a paper bag of snacks and sandwiches from the local convenience store in one hand and the other tucked away into his pocket.

He wondered if he could go in and see you, but he'd already texted you he was waiting outside, and you'd replied you were on your way out.

Just as he was about to go sit on one of the benches, one of the doors at the entrance opened. You emerged out into the late spring morning with the breeze in your hair, a tote bag slung over one shoulder, and a ukulele case hanging from the other. You smiled wide at him and waved.

Sunwoo's lips parted into a grin. "Hi. I got us snacks," he said and lifted the brown bag in his hand.

"Sunwoo, you didn't have to," you pursed your lips fondly, adjusting your bag straps.

"I wanted to." The two of you fell into step in the direction of the closest metro station. It would be a short walk from here into the university Avenue, and down a block to the station. Everything was conveniently placed in the name of accessibility. "Plus, I didn't really eat breakfast," he admitted.

"Me neither." You cupped half your face with your palm. "Aish. I always forget I have, like, yogurt in the fridge, y'know?"

Sunwoo chuckled. "Yeah, I get that. My roommate and I always forget that we have groceries in the fridge because we always see the ramen packets on the counter instead. How was the lesson with Chan?"

The two of you stopped at the intersection to wait for the light. You hugged your ukulele to your chest. "It was good! He's always really helpful and knowledgeable—and patient," you mused. "I hope you don't mind me bringing my uke along though. I thought it would be a nice form of entertainment once we got up to the lake."

"I'm not entertaining enough for you," he gasped melodramatically, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.

You laughed, and the sound made him break his pout and smile. "I thought I would be the entertaining one for once. D'you know how to play?"

The crosswalk sign turned on for you, and you both made your way across.

"I know some guitar," Sunwoo answered, "but just the basics. They teach you a bit at summer music camp." As he walked by your side, he felt his hand brush against the back of yours. "My hyung—Jacob—he plays guitar pretty well. He's good at singing, too, like you."

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

"He did it to woo his girlfriend," he jested, sticking his tongue in his cheek when he remembered how JC!Yn brought him and Haknyeon up to speed last quarter about her love life antics.

You chuckled. "That's a shame you know the trick," you said with an impish twinkle in your eyes, "because that was exactly my plan."

Sunwoo came to a screeching halt in the middle of the walkway, and when you realized he was still staring wide-eyed at the sidewalk, you let out a laugh and went back to drag him along to the station.

— ✶

The view was something out of a magazine, the kind that took one's breath away. You and Sunwoo had claimed the shade beneath a willow tree and settled down across from each other with the brown paper bag flattened out to display the feast he had purchased. There were other small groups of people around, as well, all of whom seemed to have the same ideas as you two as they soaked up sun, read books and napped in the shade, and picnicked along the grassy shoreline. There was even a small booth a mile down the bank that rented out swan-shaped paddle boats and canoes for people to take out onto the water.

You and Sunwoo had pretty much demolished all of the goodies he brought with him. The conversation had been flowing, simple and organic, and you felt at peace—that was the best way to describe it. Maybe it was the location, the circumstance, the company, or all three.

You picked up your ukulele from where it laid in its case by your side. "Any suggestions?" You queried, taking the instrument out and checking that it was in tune.

Sunwoo brushed his hands of crumbs and braced his palms on the grass behind him. It was the visual of him in that white shirt, his sleeves rolled up and collarbone exposed, jawline clean and sharp as he gazed out at the view that made your heart race again. "Hmm," he hummed, "what did you first learn on it?"

"I think I taught myself Lemonade by Jeremy Passion," you said to him and scoured your brain for the right chords. You strummed a G-flat minor, and when it sounded about right, you shifted to B, until you managed to jog your memory of all four chords.

He watched you with softened eyes, his knees pulled up to his chest now as he leaned his cheek onto the tops of his knees. "That's a good song," he murmured.

"Do you know the lyrics?"

He chuckled, shaking his head and flicking his wrist. "Oh, no, no. I don't sing."

"Doesn't sound like you can't," you quipped back with a teasing tilt in your smile. You swayed a little as you played the tune over and over again. "A little shy, are we?"

You could see the smile peeking from his lips even when he tried to hide it in his arms. "I don't sing a lot."

"If I sang the first verse, would you join me in the chorus?" You offered as a compromise. You wouldn't push after this if he still refused, but there was a part of you that felt like you needed to hear this beautiful man sing for you.

He balked for a second, toeing at the dirt. Then, "Okay. I'll join in at the chorus."

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

You were a little shaky going in yourself. Though you had definitely practiced this song more times than you could count, performing it for someone else was always like playing it for the first time. And you wanted Sunwoo to enjoy it, and to be impressed by you. You wanted to do well for him and to be able to encourage him.

As he said he would, you heard him join in at the chorus—softly, at first, until he was the main vocal and you could bolster him with the harmony.

His eyes met yours, all smiles, as the song continued on. The ending verse… dear god, you could fall over from pure giddiness at the way he nailed the runs and you could do a little showing off with your strumming. Shivers, just plain shivers.

"She's exactly what… I need," he crooned, fingers playing absentmindedly with a strand of grass.

You let the vibrations of the strings linger in the spring air for a moment. It was like the two of you were encased in this bubble all by yourselves; and it was beautiful. It was perfect.

"I knew you could sing," you said to him. "I just had a feeling."

He hung his head, but the smile on his face could not be suppressed. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For encouraging me," he shook his head. "Believing in me."

You pursed your lips together thoughtfully and you wished you could pick his brain without risking total invasion. "Do people not believe in you often?" You asked quietly, shifting to move yourself around the pile of rolled-up trash and to sit next to him.

He followed your lead, scooting himself next to you until you were no longer opposite, but adjacent. "Not people, just me, I think."

"Ah." You could empathize.

He gave a shallow nod. "Do you ever get scared of making a mistake so you don't—I dunno—go for it? And then you end up thinking that maybe not taking that risk was the mistake?"

You set your ukulele down in the case beside you and mirrored his position, arms looped around your legs. "I do. All the time actually, and it's a scary feeling."

"Yeah," he exhaled. "Sometimes I wish I had just gone into music, full-on. I mean, a communication major is useful and all, but there are times when I wonder where I would have been if I had nurtured that passion."

His words resonated within you. There was a reason why you transferred to this university and decided to leave your original plan behind. You had gone into college with an intent to major in Computer Science, but less than a year in, it had become abundantly clear to you how unhappy you were. Leaving wasn't just a choice, it had been a need.

You turned to look at Sunwoo and you felt your chest tug toward him. You bumped his leg with your knee. "You still have time," you said. "It's not too late to still see where that goes."

But you knew the conflict that warred in his head; you knew it all too well because you had experienced it firsthand. It was much more complicated than simply chasing after one's dreams. There was obligations, expectations, fears, and physical obstacles that made the situation more complex than it seemed at first glance. You didn't know his family situation, didn't know the whole story of why he hadn't taken his summer music camp experiences and translated it into his current college career.

You didn't know it all… but you wanted to. You wanted to know everything about him.

"You said you don't have a minor figured out yet, right?" You asked suddenly, an idea coming to you.

He hummed. "Yeah."

"Well, why don't you choose music as your minor?" When he didn't answer right away, you added, "You obviously don't have to decide right this second—it's just something to think about."

(It seemed he had a lot he needed to think about lately.)

Sunwoo rose up and leaned back onto his palms again. When he turned to look at you, a sense of calm had come over him this time. "I really appreciate you."

You broke into a smile. "I appreciate you, too."

"No, really," he laughed, then bit his lip. "I'm sorry for screwing the mood—"

"You're not! Really," you insisted. "I don't mind. I like having meaningful conversations with people who mean a lot to me."

He didn't even have to say anything, because there was this look, one you simply could not ignore. It made your stomach feel like it was swarmed with butterflies and that you were walking on air. It was like watching him smile while listening to the song you wrote, like walking out of the performing arts center to see him waiting for you. He didn't have to say anything because you knew—you had to. There simply could not be any other explanation, right?

EPISODE SEVEN: WHAT IF SOULS FEEL FAMILIAR FOR A REASON?

YOU had been keeping a secret.

"So what you're saying is that you know that he knows, but he doesn't know that you know that he knows?"

You nodded, arms crossed. "Yeah, pretty much."

Jisung made a face and rested his temple against his palm. "My brain hurts."

From where she was perched on a stool, Park Sieun reached over and patted Jisung's nest of hair. "It is a little confusing. Why don't you just confront him about it?"

"I don't know," you huffed and fell back against the wall. The three of you were holed up in one of the private studios on campus. There weren't many buildings opened since it was still Spring Break, but many of the performing arts facilities were. Jisung had offered for you and Sieun to meet him in the room he had snagged and had been currently occupying in order to bust out as much creative energy as possible. (Newsflash, it was not going well, hence, yours and Sieun's invitations.) Studio rooms were pretty much soundproof, so they were good for those in the music programs who wanted a private space to practice or record things.

You had just brought them up to speed on your latest outing with a certain Kim Sunwoo up to Lake Anchor, as Sieun had so graciously suggested to you the other day. After your outing, however, you'd come to one very solid conclusion.

Well, and there was the matter of The Anonymous Situation.

Just this morning, you had opened your inbox to find another submission from one of your regular anonymous listeners whom you affectionately nicknamed Rhaps. Rhapsody Anonymous had begun to pop up in your inbox just last quarter, and it wasn't until recently that you figured out who it was. At first, it seemed completely implausible for Sunwoo to be the face behind the name, because there was no way out of a whole internet of people that he had managed to stumble across your podcast.

To make matters more complex, you had an inkling that he also knew that you were the host of Songbird Station. He had sent you something along the lines of: "Hey Dovey! I stumbled across this song recently that I haven't heard in awhile. It's called Lemonade, and I realize that I've only actually heard the ukulele vers. LOL anyways, I hope you're not too busy this Spring Break and that you've had time to relax. I've always wondered though… have you ever met someone who feels familiar to you? Not like in a 'I've reunited with you after five years' kind of familiar, but like… something more like kindred spirits……"

The whole message had the same amount of sweetness he always used to contact and interact with you, but the recommendation of the song Lemonade simply could not be a mere coincidence. You just couldn't accept that.

You had pondered this for a long time—the possibility of confronting him about his anonymous persona. And of course, there were several things that held you back from doing so. "I mean," you began, pushing off from the wall to slowly pace the little room available, "I don't want to scare him, y'know? Like I'm sure there's a reason why he goes by a pseudonym like I do, and I don't want to burst that bubble.

"Plus," you continued, "what if I'm just thinking about this all wrong? What if I've read the signs completely out of proportion and he's not actually Rhapsody Anonymous? That would just be embarrassing."

You stopped in front of your friends with your hands positioned on your hips and your head quirked to the side in thought.

"Would it really be so bad if you brought it up, like, even subtly?" Sieun asked you, her pink-tinted lips pursed slightly.

Jisung piped up, too, "Yeah, Sunwoo's a pretty cool guy. And based on what I've seen between the two of you and what you've told us, I don't think he would laugh at you or anything."

"I don't think he would laugh at me either," you confessed. "It's just kinda scary."

The two murmured their agreement. Though Sieun was your trio's only extrovert, you actually had no idea how you'd come to be decently close friends with these two. You chalked it up to all frequenting similar social circles. The music program was always a good way to make friends, and you were glad that it had yet to fail you, even in college.

Sieun made a vague gesture with her hand. "I think you should try, though. I'm sure you'll find a way to slide it in," she chuckled.

Jisung snorted. "I have never seen that man so flustered in his life."

"Yeah, he has to be whipped for you, Yn-ie."

A cough from the boy in the room. "Not like you're any more whipped than he is."

"Han Jisung!" You reprimanded, heat swarming to your cheeks.

He broke into a boyish grin, eyes wide and alight like a chipmunk. "What? Don't give me the government name; you know it's true!"

Even Sieun was laughing behind her oh-so delicately placed hand. "He's got a point."

You sighed, wrinkling your nose. "I came for support, not a call out."

"Are those not the same things—AH, I'M SORRY DON'T WHACK ME—!"

— ✶

There was a place on the Avenue with the best lime soda, as Sunwoo had claimed, when the two of you coordinated to get lunch together. Because you had chosen the place of your last hangout, you'd insisted that he chose a place this time. By his texts, he had seemed pleasantly surprised to be hanging out again so soon, and while your nerves were high in anticipation for the coming conversation, you also couldn't wait to spend time with him some more.

You met outside the storefront of a Vietnamese restaurant that you'd only seen in passing, and had yet to try. You glanced up from your phone just as Sunwoo came up from down the road toward you, dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket.

"Hey, sorry to keep you waiting," he said as he swung the door open for you.

You and he ducked inside. "It's no worries," you assured him. "Hope you're not sick of me just yet."

You saw that boyish grin of his as he caught your eyes and signaled the waiter for a table for two. "Never."

When the two of you were seated, your eyes greedily took in the options laid out on the menu. There were just far too many appetizing items—maybe you should have scouted out the menu beforehand.

"Any favorites?" You queried from over the rim of your menu.

Sunwoo was slinging his shoulder bag over his head as you asked this. "Oh, uh, I've been hooked on their shrimp banh xeo ever since my friend Haknyeon introduced me to it. It's like a Vietnamese crepe with stir fried vegetables and a protein. But I think in general, everything is pretty good here."

You hummed. "Mmh, sounds good. And you said the lime soda is really good, too?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, for sure. That stuff is addicting."

You took his word for it, and soon, the two of you had finished ordering your lunch for the day. A part of you wished you didn't have to disturb the pleasantness of this one-on-one lunch date (was this a date?) with Sunwoo by bringing up the podcast, but what if by clearing the air, it would make your relationship stronger? (Or, it could end in a fiery, hot pile of shit!)

Either way, you would try to get to it as organically as possible.

"So I wanted to talk to you about something." Yes, because this is totally organic, Yn… You grabbed your cup of lime soda and played absentmindedly with the straw.

You gauged his reaction carefully. He perked up. "You—you wanted to talk to me about something?" He parroted, pointing his finger back at himself. "That's not usually good."

"Sorry, no, it's not bad!" You promised. On the way here, you had come up with about a dozen ways to go about this, but at the end of the day, there would only be a yes or no answer. "Do you, by chance, happen to listen to podcasts?"

There was that flicker of recognition over his face, and for a second, he reminded you of something like a puppy with how wide his eyes were. "Uhh," he drawled, scratching his head and feigning nonchalance, "I mean, sometimes. Like casually."

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

If sweat could be animated, that was what you imagined to be dripping down the side of Sunwoo’s face at this moment. He seemed to be figuring out a way to reply. “Would you believe me if I asked you what a Rhapsody Anonymous is?”

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

“Okay,” he relented, slumping over slightly. He seemed nervous, in a way, eyes looking anywhere but you, twirling his straw between his thumb and index finger, his foot tapping furiously against the linoleum floor. “I’m sorry! I didn’t really want to bring up the podcast to you because I thought that you enjoyed the anonymity, y’know?” He told you with an apologetic wince. “And I really liked listening to the show, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to interact with you anonymously, as well, and over time, I thought we’d kinda become friends.”

He peered up at you nervously, and guilt wormed its way into the trenches of your gut. From what it seemed, he must have really thought that you would react negatively to him knowing your podcast-hosting side show.

“We are friends,” you finally said and scooped a lock of hair out of your face. “I’m not like, mad, or anything; it was more of me trying to figure out why you felt so familiar to me. And I’m really honored that you liked my podcast enough to want to interact with me there. It means a lot.”

With your small smile, Sunwoo’s posture flooded with relief. “So you’re not mad that I figured out your identity?”

“Definitely not,” you shook your head. “If anything, I’m relieved. I’ve been wondering about your identity for a while now.”

The corners of Sunwoo’s mouth lifted. “That’s… that’s cool. This is really cool,” he said. He let out a sigh, leaning back to slump in his chair with a dramatic expression of anguish on his face. “You have no idea how much it’s been eating me up inside, Dovey! Like how do you balance your two identities? It takes so much energy for me to make sure I keep them separate.”

“I can tell; you weren’t exactly the most inconspicuous,” you teased.

He sat up. “What do you—”

“Well, you kind of told me things in person that you’ve told to me on anonymous, and vice versa.” You recalled to him the two main instances that gave him away to you. It was amusing to see the way he grew increasingly more flustered as you kept talking about it, but you realized that this was probably incredibly painful for him to hear.

Sunwoo had his head in his hands by the time you were done. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

He shifted slightly so that his cheek rested against one palm. “And to think that I was being all slick and secretive,” he pouted, scrunching up his nose. “You know, I always thought about being friends with you in real life. That one time that I told you about that one Taylor Swift song that reminded me of you?”

“Superstar?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” He meditated on that thought while sipping his drink. “It just felt right. Like you were far away but also right there in my ear. Does that make sense?”

You knew what the song was about; you could recite the lyrics by heart, and the fact that he associated that song with you… It sent your heart a-flutter. “It does.”

He jolted up so suddenly you nearly fell out of your seat with him. “Not that I’m desperately in love with you or anything,” he added quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as fast as he mentally skimmed through the lyrics again and again. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and you were sure that your neck looked as hot as it felt.

You pretended your heart didn’t drop to the pit of your stomach when he said that. You laughed along with him, though you weren’t sure why it sounded like it did. “Oh, right, right. I didn’t think that; don’t worry.” All the butterflies in your stomach drooped.

Sunwoo scrambled to find the right words. “I just mean that I always felt like some average Joe, and you were…” He gestured to you helplessly, “you.”

Your heart couldn’t help but give a sharp pang at that.

“And how could I ever be anything more to you than just another listener in your stats, y’know?”

You never thought that you would have ever given off that kind of vibe toward listeners, or come to mean that much to any members of your audience. It had seemed simply impossible for you to ever become large enough to evoke that kind of feeling in people—a popstar to their fans. You folded your arms over the table and leaned toward him. “Sunwoo, you were never just another listener. You made yourself known to me and you made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

He slowly met your eyes, and you sat up straighter, reaching toward the paper straw wrapper to fidget with. “I originally started this podcast because I needed a place to talk. After feeling like people were always moving on without me, I was trying to search for validation, and I found that in podcasting. I figured that maybe… if I was feeling these things, then there had to be someone out there who was feeling them, too.

“And the song recommendation and music talk was always a nice bonus,” you added. “I had people send in anonymous submissions, but never as frequently as you did, and it made me feel like I was reaching somebody. Not just a random hit every so often, but somebody.”

Sunwoo’s eyes shone in the artificial lighting inside the restaurant, and outside your little bubble, you barely registered the noises around you. It was just you and Sunwoo in this moment in time and space. He swallowed. “You’re really cool, you know that?”

You grabbed your cup of lime soda and softly knocked it against his. “That’s all you, superstar.”

— ✶

Lunch had progressed much smoother after you had confronted Sunwoo, to say the least. You were convinced, however, that you had to meet this Haknyeon character he kept telling you about. He was the one to recommend the Vietnamese restaurant, and he was going to be your new favorite person. (Sorry, Sunwoo.)

When both you and Sunwoo had finished up with lunch, you didn’t want to cut your time with him short and asked him if he’d ever been up to the Farmer’s Market north of the Ave.

“There’s a Farmer’s Market over there?” His mouth gaped as he let you lead him a couple blocks north.

You grinned, tipping your head up to the sky to soak in the last bits of sunlight before it was about to be blanketed over by gray clouds. “Yeah! It’s really neat. They’ve got one going every week, I think.”

The walk up was an easy one as it was a straight shot from the restaurant to the intersection where white picket fences were set up to barricade the street for vendors to set up in. Pop-up tents of different colors and sizes lined either side of the street as people milled about going from vendor to vendor. This had been one of the few gems you’d found when you transferred here, and though you didn’t often visit, you tried to buy at least a couple things to support the local businesses. The fruit here tasted much better than the ones in-stores, anyway.

You and Sunwoo slipped past the fences and into the throng of people, and you watched his face light up in awe as he took in the sights and smells. There were people selling beaded bracelets and art, farmers tossing blueberries into kids’ mouths… it was a lively slice of community here.

“Wow, this is incredible,” he said, but suddenly stopped short. “Oh my god, they’re selling melon pops, Yn-ie!” He pointed out a stand a little further down the way that he had peered over a few heads for. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. “Come on! I’ll treat you to one.”

It wasn’t like you were going to refuse him.

Within another few minutes, you and Sunwoo had both acquired one melon popsicle each. It was adorable to see him bouncing along on the balls of his feet like a kid on Christmas morning as he lapped up the light green juice dripping down the side of the frozen treat.

“—look how pretty those sunflowers are!” He gasped at one of the stands to your left selling bundles of different flowers.

An idea popped into your head, and you scurried over to the booth and traded a two dollar bill for one of the baby sunflowers. You whirled around to where Sunwoo stood and waited for you. “Stand still,” you said while reaching up to tuck the flower behind his ear.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick picture of him.

Sunwoo’s eyes had gone wide, his cheekbones the same color as the roses in the bundles behind you. “What… just happened,” he asked, blinking, then came over to poke your shoulder to get your attention. He peered over at your phone screen to see that you were setting the photo you took as his new contact photo. He let out a hum, “Wow.”

“It’s cute.” You let him see the picture.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen before finally giving it a nod of approval. “Okay, good enough.”

You scoffed, lightly hitting his arm with the back of your hand. “Good enough? I think it’s perfect.” You finished off the rest of your melon pop and tossed the stick in a nearby trash bin.

(If you’d looked up from your phone at that moment, you would have seen the utter bliss on Sunwoo’s face after hearing you compliment a picture of him and calling it “perfect.” To him, absolutely nothing could ruin this day, this moment, this year for him—!)

One raindrop fell onto your phone screen, followed by another, and another, and ano--

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

“It’s raining,” you observed dumbly, reaching a palm out to feel the pitter-patter of the sky’s tears on your skin. Others around you were beginning to notice, too, either huddling under their nearest tent or the overhangs of establishments lined on the sidewalk.

You figured somebody must have pissed the weather off because the rain only began to drum harder against the world.

"Well, shit," you laughed and patted Sunwoo on the back of his shoulder to move him toward the side of the road. "Let's find shelter!"

The two of you joined the crowd as you scrambled past the tents and up onto the sidewalks. Some people simply went into the shops themselves, but you and Sunwoo took a moment to stare out at the once-clear sky. Strange how springtime weather worked.

Sunwoo finished off his popsicle and found a trash bin to toss the stick into. He ran a hand through his dampened locks, then dragged that same palm down his face. "D'you like a little rain, dove?"

The nickname caught you off-guard for a second, but not as badly as seeing the soft-cornered smile on his face.

You cleared your throat. "I don't mind it. How about you?"

He made a frown at the sky as if he could reprimand nature for crashing the date—wait, this wasn't a date, was it? "It would have been nice if the weather report was accurate for once, but a little walk in the rain never hurt anybody."

You voiced your agreement. The next course of action you both decided on was making the long trek home in the rain together. You tried to stay out of the shower as best as you could, but there definitely weren't enough overhangs to get you home completely dry.

At one of the intersections, Sunwoo looked over at you through his dripping wet bangs. "You don't have a jacket."

On instinct, you glanced down at your bare arms, only clad in a T-shirt. "Oh, I guess I don't," you mused.

"Here—" he shouldered off the black bomber jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

"Yes, you can," he laughed and shook his head out. The light turned green to cross, and he wrapped an arm around you to keep you steady along the rain-slicked street.

The jacket and arm around you were both warm, but you had a feeling that even without the jacket, his arm would have been more than enough.

When you'd made it to your apartment complex and bursted into the front lobby, you and Sunwoo practically stood in your own self-made puddles. You took the jacket off from around your shoulders and shook it out; it was a shoddy attempt to get the water out, but at least the material was semi-waterproof on the outside.

"Here you…" Your throat went dry as you made to hand his jacket back to him and zeroed in on the way his wet, white T-shirt stuck flush against his skin. There was no other way to describe it but as see through, and there was no way in hell you were going to be able to erase that defined stomach from your mind. "...Go."

You coughed as you looked away, and he accepted his jacket back with a low "Thanks."

When he zipped his jacket up, you nodded toward the elevator. "Do you wanna come up and dry off before you go out? You can totally borrow my umbrella if you want, too."

He shook his head. "No, it's okay. My apartment's not far, I swear."

"Ah, alright. Get home safe then." You paused, then added, "Text me once you get back?"

Sunwoo flashed you a smile, and man, if you could engrave that smile, the wet hair, into your brain… "Promise. I'll see you soon, superstar."

He reached over and ruffled your hair, then ducked out of your apartment into the rain. Just before he was out of your sight, he turned back and waved at you through the front windows.

You let out an exhale once he had disappeared. A fuzzy feeling lingered in your chest, your smile never leaving your face. You were so far gone.

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

ALTHOUGH Spring Break had swept through the university faster than it came, Sunwoo could still say he felt like he was riding on Cloud 9. The beginning of the quarter was easily a more relaxed part of the term, but Spring quarter itself was a whole other nightmare in itself. Everyone around him was beginning to wake up from their break-dazed slumbers to clamber their asses back into uncomfortable lecture chairs and study rooms.

It was the first Tuesday back from Spring Break when he found out you were going to be in a practice room alone for a while, working on a new project. This intel had been courtesy of one Han Jisung, who had been texting Sunwoo off and on about a track he had been mixing with Chan.

han !!: yeah just left cuz my brain was feelin super fried 🤣 dunno how ynies still there

sunwoo's phone: oh fr?? she's still over there?

han !!: yuh bro that's what i just said

han !!: r u gonna do anything abt it 👀😳

sunwoo's phone: i have no clue what ur talking abt

han !!: okay bye chicken

sunwoo's phone: u did not just call me chicken.

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

Sunwoo walked out of his room and stood in the middle of the apartment, staring blankly at the back of Eric's head. His roommate was seated on the couch setting up a movie, and when he sensed someone was staring at him, he began to say, "Baby!—wait a minute."

Eric made a face. "Never mind, it's just you."

Sunwoo scoffed and flopped onto the opposite end of the couch. "Rude! Before EC!Yn, I used to be your one and only."

"That's actually so incorrect—"

"Do you boys ever not cat-fight?" EC!Yn mused as she came out from the bathroom and found a seat between Eric and Sunwoo. Eric instantly curled an arm around her and pulled her into his side.

Sunwoo considered this with a frown. Why was he so single? "You're lucky I tolerate your boyfriend, EC!Yn," said Sunwoo as he folded his arms over his chest and sunk into the shadows of his hoodie.

"I'm glad you've come to like me more than your own best friend," she drawled in jest. "What's got you in the dumps, my friend?"

Eric perked up, pressing the play button on the TV remote to start the movie. "Oh yeah! You were in such a good mood this morning."

A grumble from the lump of hoodie. "It's nothing."

A moment of silence passed. Then, "He misses Yn."

"I think so, too."

"Do you think if we texted her to text him, he would at least smile?"

"Oh, I think I found her Instagram the other day—"

Sunwoo peered out of his hoodie with narrowed eyes. "I can hear you guys, you know that, right?"

Both Eric and his partner shot him impish grins, delighted that their very obvious conversation brought him out of silence. The thought forced a smile onto Sunwoo's face anyway. Eric's baseball game had been canceled today because the team who they were going up against this week had internal problems (something about an affair between coaches and players—it was complicated). Thus, Eric had decided to fill his afternoon with an impromptu movie session with his girlfriend. Sunwoo was invited by roommate obligation.

There were definitely more productive things that Sunwoo could have been doing (finding a minor, finding a job, finding the answers to his cognitive psych homework, etcetera), but watching… Wait, what were they even watching?

EC!Yn reached over and nudged his shoulder with her knuckles. "Hey, Earth to Kim Sunwoo."

He shook out of his daze. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He sighed, pulling out his phone. "Jisung just told me that Yn's at the practice room working still."

"Still?"

"Yeah," he bobbed his head. "They've been there ever since they finished their composition class this morning."

Eric lowered the volume on the TV. "Dude, you should go keep her company."

Sunwoo's eyes shot open as he began mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. "I don’t wanna bother her; she probably doesn’t wanna be bothered if she’s been working for so long.” The thought had crossed his mind to head over to the practice rooms right now and sit in for a session, but he had shut his own idea down almost immediately. Would you appreciate him going to bug you or would you mind him just going to sit with you and enjoy your presence?

“I was thinking the exact opposite,” said EC!Yn, “I mean, whenever Eric comes over unannounced to come sit with me at the dorm, I appreciate it all the time.”

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

Sunwoo blinked and was suddenly glad he was staring down at his phone and not the couple on the couch next to him. But he glanced up to catch EC!Yn’s eyes. “Do you really think she wouldn’t mind?”

When Eric tucked his face into her neck, she idly scratched his head. “Oh, definitely. I think it’ll be a nice surprise, considering she probably feels the same about you, based on what you’ve already told us.”

“You’re right!” Sunwoo shot up off the couch, but halted. “Wait, she what?”

Eric snorted. “She said that Yn probably feels the same about you, which, if I’m being honest, I can’t believe—”

Sunwoo dashed into his room to grab his wallet and keys. “Nobody asked you!”

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

Sunwoo couldn't quite think straight with the giddy anticipation bubbling in his stomach and up his chest as he balanced twin cups of iced americano in his hands. Taking the bus to the School of Music would have been less effort on his legs, but waiting for it simply did not sit with the amount of energy currently carrying him down the street and up the stairs and across the quad like a madman.

People were probably eyeing him weirdly, but he was trying to come up with things to say to you. Preferably, these things were smooth and not strange fragments that weren't properly strung together. He wanted to look put together, to sound put together.

He was probably going to look frazzled, though, from half-running a mile uphill, but that was okay—he was excited to see you.

The School of Music stood right across from the School of Art building, the twin towers looming above the quad stairs. With school back in session, there were plenty of people milling about the entrance, and somebody graciously opened the door for Sunwoo so he didn't have to awkwardly balance his coffees and risk spilling them to get inside. He hadn't often visited this building, but he had been in here before to visit friends and upperclassmen. Though the architecture was grander, it still had the homey feeling of a high school band room, some place music students could call home.

Sunwoo navigated himself toward the practice rooms in the back hallways, murmuring "excuse me"s and apologies as he sidestepped string bassists and bassoons and snare drums. (He could've sworn there was a whole drum kit in one of these; it was strange seeing someone carrying around a single snare… huh.)

He reached the corridor to turn right into the practice hall when he froze, diving back behind the wall.

"—wait, Yangyang—"

Something in him sunk deep into the pit of his stomach, an anchor to the sea floor. He watched you launch out of your practice room and into Yangyang's arms, both of you hugging each other closely. He had his arms wrapped around you and his cheek against the crown of your head.

Sunwoo couldn't hear what you were saying to each other—if you were saying anything at all.

And you didn't let go. Not yet, at least.

When you did finally let go, the two of you were beaming at each other. It was near impossible to make out what kind of emotion was there from so far away, but Sunwoo couldn't look anymore when Yangyang leaned in towards you—

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

He struggled to swallow; there was a large lump sitting in his throat that he had to wrestle down.

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

Before you or Yangyang could come down this way, Sunwoo retraced his steps from where he came until he was back outside. He sucked in a breath, mind abuzz.

He set down the cups of iced coffee, now perspiring, on a ledge nearby, so he could pull out his phone.

It rang twice. "Yo."

"Are you practicing right now?" Sunwoo asked, leaning his body against the railing. His free hand held his face as his brain replayed the events he had just witnessed. Did that mean what he thought he meant? You were totally allowed to see other people—the two of you weren't exclusive—but goddamn, did that hurt to think about.

Was he too late? Had he chickened out so long that you decided to move on, or was he never in the running in the first place?

He heard a bit of shuffling from the other side, then a sigh from Changmin. "Now I'm not. What's up?"

"I'm coming over."

A pause. "...Okay, see you soon."

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

THERE was something different in the air and you could taste it. Not literally, of course, but you figured your paranoia had manifested strong enough within you to be able to sniff these kinds of things out. "These things" referred to the slight difference in the way you interacted with Sunwoo, or rather, how Sunwoo interacted with you.

You turned your phone off again, having checked it for what felt like the fifth time in the past two minutes. Usually, he replied relatively fast, but for the past week or so, he'd been a little more delayed. He didn't text dry, which was a relief, but there was something off about it. You couldn't articulate it too well—it was just a gut feeling.

"Oy, phone away, Yn," Sieun ordered, snapping her fingers and holding her hand out across the table.

You sent her a look, but reluctantly handed your phone over to her. "But—"

"No buts!" She tutted. She hid your phone within the confines of her purse before promptly returning to the warm bowl of biang biang noodles in front of her. "The more you check your phone, the sadder of a sap you look."

"Thanks," you deadpanned, but followed her lead and picked up your chopsticks to eat your food.

The two of you were seated in, arguably, the best Chinese restaurant on the Avenue. It had become a fast favorite of yours when you first transferred, saved for the long days and weeks when you needed something like spice to make you feel anything other than sad. Sieun had suggested coming down here for dinner rather than staying in and eating another round of instant ramen. It was something she knew would cheer you up easily, and so far, it was only half working.

You reached for your water, only to realize it was practically empty.

As if she could read your mind, the waitress taking care of your table appeared at your side and filled your water up for you.

"Oh, thank you!" Your eyes glanced over at her name tag—HN!Yn—and met her kind eyes.

"Of course. Anything else I can get you two?" She asked cheerily, swiftly filling up Sieun's cup, as well, with practiced grace. "Food's good?"

Both you and Sieun nodded your heads vigorously, especially since both of your mouths were now full and you couldn't speak. She seemed to get the idea and hustled over to a nearby table to tend to them. How waiters and waitresses always knew when you had food in your mouth, you could never figure out. It was always absolutely awful timing, but you supposed the skill was akin to Starbucks workers butchering name spellings.

When you finally swallowed your bite, you chased it with a gulp of water. "I don't think I did anything wrong," you said to your friend, pushing around the saucy rice in your bowl with the tips of your chopsticks.

Sieun covered her mouth. "I don't think so either," she replied, eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe he's just busy? It could be that he got a job or something, or school work is piling up."

You frowned. You thought he would have let you know he was going to be a bit busier, but at the same time, he didn't owe you anything. You just worried about him and hoped he wasn't overworking himself. It didn't help that you missed hanging out with him; it didn't feel like it used to between you just last week.

From behind you, you heard the door to the restaurant open and close with a loud smack! The door to the restaurant was awfully loud when it closed, unless it was carefully done. Something about the angle at which it was constructed, or something like that.

Sieun's brows flew up. "Speak of the devil," she muttered with her food pushed into her cheek.

"Hm?" You hummed and twisted around in your seat to see who she was referring to.

Oh. Well, she definitely wasn't wrong, per se.

Coming in through the door himself was Kim Sunwoo, as well as a few of his own friends, you guessed. You recognized one of them as Ji Changmin, one of the dancers from the winter showcase. Besides those two, there were four others, too—three other boys and a girl. You didn't recognize any of them, but you saw the way your waitress greeted them and squeezed one of the boys' hands.

You and Sunwoo made eye contact, and you shot him a small smile, lifting your fingers in a wave.

He seemed surprised to see you, and you didn't fault him for that. His wave was slight and smile shy, but you couldn't figure out why he ducked his head and didn't come by and say hi.

They're being seated for dinner, Yn. It's okay. Chill a little.

You turned back in your seat to face Sieun and your food again.

"Hey, cheer up, girl." Sieun's smile was sympathetic as she caught your attention. You hadn't even noticed how your posture noticeably slumped after that interaction—if one could even call it that. "Don't let this ruin your dinner, okay?"

You sighed out of your nose, testing your chopsticks over the rim of your bowl. "You're right. I don't know, Eun. It feels like we regressed? Is he avoiding me? Am I overthinking this?"

"I'm not sure, hon," she told you. "It'll be okay, though. I promise. Are you ready for the check?"

You nodded, reaching for your napkin to wipe your mouth.

Sieun lifted her hand and caught your waitress's attention, then made a motion for the bill. HN!Yn was quick to bring it over and set the little black tray with the receipt onto the edge of your table. In her hands she held a small device to input your method of payment.

"Are we splitting the bill today, ladies?" She asked you, eyes flickering between you both.

"Yeah, evenly split would be great, please," you told her.

Sieun leaned over to peer at the receipt as you reached into your bag to grab your card. Her face contorted into confusion, and she ran her finger over a line as if reading over it again carefully. "Oh, uhm, excuse me. It says we get a discount—not that I'm complaining! But…"

HN!Yn smiled. "Ah, you're friends with Sunwoo, right? That's what he told me, at least. I always give my partner and his friends my Friends & Family discount, so don't worry about it. I appreciate your integrity though."

You and Sieun exchanged wide-eyed glances, blinking, then turned to peer over at where Sunwoo's friend group sat. One of the boys sitting next to him whacked his arm to get his attention, nodding toward your table.

Sunwoo looked up.

Your head tilted to the side and you mouthed a "thank you?" to him, unsure of why he went out of his way to help you out.

He only nodded before ducking his head again. Huh. You'd have to thank him properly later.

HN!Yn was quick to help you and Sieun box your meals and finish paying. Before long, you tucked your arm around Sieun's to push out into the cool evening—not without glancing back at Sunwoo's table first.

— ✶

"She looks sad. Why is she sad?" Sunwoo sulked, lying atop his folded arms on the table and staring at you through the space between Haknyeon and JC!Yn.

You were the last person he thought he'd see when he and his friends walked into Haknyeon's favorite Chinese restaurant. You and your friend were pretty much wrapping up dinner when they'd come in, and he was quite literally startled by your presence. He'd been walking around on eggshells, he felt, all because of this stupid situation he'd forced himself into.

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

Changmin delivered a light whack to the back of Sunwoo's head. "You're dumb."

Sunwoo sat up and cupped the back of his head, leveling a glare at his friend. "Hello?"

"He's not exactly wrong," said Chanhee from the other side of him as he texted someone on his phone.

Sunwoo pressed his lips together and looked across the table from him at JC!Yn in a silent cry for help. The woman could only lift her shoulders half-heartedly. That meant that she agreed with them… great.

Eric snapped his wooden chopsticks apart and began using either stick to smooth the other for splinters. "We're saying you're dumb because you're doing this to yourself and to her unnecessarily."

Sunwoo huffed. "That's because you guys weren't there to see it happen! They're totally together—or at least, close." It still felt awful to think about. It felt like there was a hole in his chest left empty after considering the possibility that he was too late. He didn't want to get hurt.

"You can still talk to her like you used to, Sunwoo-ah," Haknyeon chimed in. "Even if they were—and I'm not saying they are—together, there's still a healthy amount of space where you can dwell as her friend."

HN!Yn appeared at the head of the table with a tray of water, and everyone pitched in to pass the cups down. "Thanks, guys," she said, tucking the tray under her arm. "Are you guys ready to order?" The question was directed towards the rest of the table, but Sunwoo saw the way her eyes lingered on Haknyeon and how Haknyeon's smile shifted to something that Sunwoo was sure was only for her.

It made him feel strange again.

The group, as usual, trusted Haknyeon's choices in dishes and let him take the reins in deciding what they ate tonight. Once HN!Yn had headed off into the kitchen to deliver their order, conversation resumed swiftly.

"I think you're just scared, Sunwoo," JC!Yn said to him over the rim of her glass of water.

Murmurs of agreement resounded from all around the table. Sunwoo's jaw fell open. "I—I am not scared. What would I be scared of?"

"The truth! Oooh," Eric pursed his lips and wiggled his fingers in Sunwoo's direction.

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

"If you weren't scared of the truth," said Haknyeon, as he propped his elbows onto the table, "you would have gone up to her in that hallway."

"Didn't she tell you that she didn't see Yangyang that way anyways?" Chanhee chimed in. He was still going at it texting whoever it was on his phone.

"But she also said she wanted to give it a second chance," Sunwoo corrected.

Changmin scratched behind his ear and grabbed sauce trays from the end of the table to pass down to everyone else. "That was before she started hanging out with you some more. What is your point?"

They all made excellent points, he thought. That afternoon he'd seen you and Yangyang, he'd gone to meet Changmin in one of the dance practice rooms. After that, he'd gone home to yell into his pillow until his throat burned. Eric had muttered something about Sunwoo being dramatic and summoned JC!Yn over to the apartment to deal with him.

Sunwoo had just been bummed. He didn't even know if bummed was a strong enough word.

"I'm just scared of getting hurt, I guess," he finally admitted, meekly.

The table quieted to allow him room to speak his mind, and even Chanhee put his phone away to give him his full attention now. It wasn't often Sunwoo wore his heart on his sleeve like this, and it wasn't easy either. For anyone. Admitting to his fears in the middle of a Chinese restaurant while five of one's friends listened in was intimidating, but it was comforting to know that these friends he kept would find a way to support him. Even if he was being stupid, their tough love was out of desire to look out for him.

When he was done, Changmin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder and his dimple pressed into his cheek. "Sunwoo-yah, I think that you second guess yourself too much and you know that. You're self aware enough to know that you make the mistake of not going for what or who you want."

Sunwoo stared at an impurity in the table. What Changmin was saying hit the nail on the head—it was what happened with the dance showcase, too, and now he was about to let it ruin a friendship he had with a person he cared very much about.

"My advice," Changmin continued, "is to talk to her about what you saw and clarify it. I know it's… I know it's scary thinking you're gonna get hurt again, but I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

your phone: hey thanks for the fnf discount last night! sorry i didn't thank u properly before, but yeah, really appreciate it :')

sunshine (sunwoo): it was no problem, dw abt it!

your phone: btw is everything okay? u seem a bit distant lately and i wanted to make sure u were doing alright

sunshine (sunwoo): ah yeah, im sorry :( there's just been some things on my mind

You shot Sunwoo a quick text back to let him know you were here if he wanted anyone to talk to. His text had just come in after you'd sent him a reply in the early evening.

"Yn-ah. Still on your phone, I see?"

You jolted and shoved your device into the pocket of your jeans, smiling sheepishly as Lee Jihoon power-walked into the backstage area with a pen behind his ear and a clipboard in hand. "Hi, Jihoon!" You squeaked.

He lifted his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to come follow him. Since everyone was back from Spring Break, the work for the play being performed was kicked into high gear. Jihoon was a graduate student at the university and a director of the stage here; adding the fact that he majored in the same thing you did also made him one of your favorite mentors ever. The back hallways were bustling with costumes, props and other assorted technicians while most of the actors were either in the main backstage area or onstage proper with the play director, HJ!Yn.

You followed swiftly after him and weaved through the people littered about the corridors. "I finished synching the panel back here with the projector in the box," you told him, "though, it's weird that it was ever undone in the first place." You frowned. There had been a lot of strange things happening in the theater lately.

Jihoon gave you a curt nod and set you up in front of one of the house lights panels located in the hallway leading right out to the audience. He pointed at it with the back of his pen. "Yeah, some funky shit's been happening around here," he sighed. "You were here the other night when the speakers were acting weird, right?"

You nodded and let him guide you through navigating this backup panel. "I was. You and Chan seemed really stressed."

"We were," he said, adjusting his cap. "We really do need some more funding to update our equipment—careful, that knob is really sensitive. Good, nice work."

Once you and Jihoon had successfully finished with this panel, you lingered in the hallway for a moment. Normally, you would switch back and forth between shadowing either Chan or Jihoon, and tonight was with the latter. He was going through a couple forms on his clipboard—he must have been reading through them while working tonight.

"You seem distracted tonight, Yn-ie," he said. "Is everything okay?"

Despite being one of the busiest and hardest workers here, Jihoon was also one of the most observant, still. You leaned against the wall next to him, toeing at the floor. "Boys are stupid, right?"

Without hesitation or looking up from his clipboard, he replied, "As a boy, I can confirm."

That made you sputter out a laugh, and you saw him glance up and flash you a smile. When you couldn't find something else to say, he went forth. "I don't know the whole situation, and you don't have to tell me anything. But we guys are a little—" he made a gesture with his hands and wrinkled his nose, "—blind. You probably know that already, but dudes are dumbasses, and sometimes when feelings get in the way, they want to run for the hills.

"But if you think he's worth it, then reach out and be forward with him. And if he cares about you, he'll reach out and be honest," he finished. He let you settle with that thought, let it marinate in your brain to give you something to think about. (As if you didn't have a lot to think about already.)

You pressed your lips together with a slow nod. "Thanks Jihoon."

"Anytime, Yn-ie." He nodded back toward the direction you both had come from. "Let's go back that way, yeah? We've got some more housekeeping to take care of."

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

"...I thought I'd recommend a song that's been on my mind. I've actually been listening to quite a few Taylor Swift songs recently, especially since she's re-recording all her albums! So here's 'Superstar' from Fearless, Taylor's Version."

He had put your most recent podcast episode on full volume while he made himself dinner. It had been a long day today, and so his automatic thought was to listen to you. But now that he was getting into the meat of the episode, he was quickly coming to realize how much trouble he was in. You were playing the song, and it was a direct call out to him to wake the fuck up.

As the song faded to a close, your voice came back on.

"Actually, I was recommended the song by someone I know," you said in the mellow tone you'd been in for the entire episode so far. "I guess I'm just confused and I was wondering if they really meant what they said."

Sunwoo nearly dropped the egg in his hand onto the kitchen floor. Guilt swirled around in the bubbles of the soup in the pot and he frowned down at the rich, creamy liquid.

He sighed, tapping the egg against the counter and cracking its innards into the pot. "Of course, I really meant it," he said as if you could hear him. He wished he had the guts to tell you everything that was going on in his head… As his soup boiled away, he leaned against the empty counter to wait, cradling his head in his hands, groaning. "You're being unfair, Sunwoo."

"...This one's from Peony! They say: almost didn't realize Rhaps Anon wasn't in the last episode until the very end when we hadn't gotten a rec from them. Hope they're doing okay!" Ah, so you weren't the only one who noticed his brief absence. Your sigh filled the apartment, though, he heard the way you tried to force some kind of cheeriness into it. "Yeah, I hope they're doing okay too. But Rhaps'll be back! Let's all wish them well. Fighting!—"

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

He really needed to talk to you. Oh god, he really needed to talk to you. If not to confess, then to clear the air and assure you that all was okay on his end. He was just being a coward, and he knew that well enough now.

When his dinner had finished, Sunwoo turned the flame off and headed for his phone on the opposite counter. He lowered the volume as he went in and pulled up his text thread with you.

sunwoo's phone: hey,, i know ur probs busy w the play this week, but is there a possibility for me to see you sometime soon? i wanted to talk to u abt something

He gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer, until he realized you were probably working. That made him drop his phone and return to his dinner—maybe he just needed to not look, so his anxiety wasn't so high—

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

superstar 💫: i think i'll prob have some time saturday morning

EPISODE ELEVEN: [SOMEONE'S LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, LOSERS.]

YOU asked Sunwoo if he'd like to tag along with you as you did some grocery shopping before rehearsal on Saturday morning. His answer had been automatic, and you both agreed to meet each other at the bus stop to ride down to the larger supermarket down the hill together. Even as you stood at the corner of your street waiting for him beneath the overhang, you were trying to come up with possible things he was going to say to you. You had figured, when he’d texted you Wednesday night, that perhaps the best way to go about this would be to make this casual. Hence, why you were forcing yourself to go grocery shopping a day earlier than you usually did.

Casual, in this case, called for “you don’t have stare me in the eyes the entire time,” and to be frank, you were a little too nervous for that kind of setting anyway.

You tugged the edges of your cardigan over you as you heard your name being called from the opposing street. Sunwoo was bounding his way over to you with his arm raised in greeting. You returned the gesture with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He stopped by you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray jacket. “Hi,” he said, licking his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

The bus slowed to a halt in front of your stop, and the two of you retrieved your transportation cards to board. “You say that like I wouldn’t have agreed,” you chuckled and tapped your card, Sunwoo following suit.

The two of you managed to find a pair of empty seats near the second half of the vehicle where the exit was for an easy departure when you reached the foot of the hill. But for now, you tucked your bag onto your lap and settled into the window seat, while Sunwoo occupied the one next to you.

You turned your head to gaze out the window and watch the world blur by as you did. The Avenue streets were a tad narrower than most around the university, so the bus traveled as efficiently as it could from stop to stop before turning the block to make its descent. It was technically still morning, and though it was spring, the sky had decided to blanket the sunshine with gray clouds to form an atmosphere that reminded you distinctly of the past winter quarter. Except, instead of thin, empty branches, the streets and walkways were encased in darkening green leaves and falling pink petals, a nod to the short-lived cherry blossom season. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo’s foot start to tap against the ground like Thumper the Rabbit, and you wondered for the millionth time what was going on in that pretty head of his.

“I don’t really understand,” you found yourself saying—his head swiveled—and you turned to look at him, “did I do something wrong?”

Sunwoo stammered, "What? No, it wasn't you! It wasn't your fault at all—I was just—" he sighed, grimacing to himself. "I was just being stupid. And I know that sounds super vague, but the short answer is that I was being stupid and scared and insecure."

Your brows furrowed and you felt the bus come to a gentle stop at the foot of the hill. "Scared and insecure? What's going on; is everything okay?"

You both got up to make a quick exit off the bus and began making the short walk from the bus station into the outdoor shopping center.

There was a jittery bounce to Sunwoo's steps as well as a tension in his shoulders. "Last week," he began, "Jisung told me that he'd just left you at the practice room and that you were probably going to be there awhile."

You nodded, grabbing a basket at the front of the grocery store. That rang a bell for sure. It had been a very long day in the practice room, so you weren't quite sure what direction this was going in yet.

"Well, I wanted to go surprise you and come hang out with you. You know, like, to keep you company." He started scouring the opposite shelf to you in the dried foods aisle, his eyes nervously darting from the BUY ONE, GET ONE pasta noodles deal signs, to your person. "And when I got there, I saw you and Yangyang."

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

It was like a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped pretending to look at the overpriced vermicelli noodles on the shelf behind you.

"And you guys were hugging and close and stuff—and by all means! I—I have no problem with that, of course," he added quickly, "I mean, you guys are really close… friends? And I just saw him lean toward you and left because I… I got the message." The latter portion was delivered in a defeated tone as he looked on toward you helplessly and sorrowfully. It was how Sieun described you Tuesday night when you'd seen Sunwoo at the restaurant: a sad sap.

You both stopped moving down the aisle to face each other. In the white, fluorescent supermarket lights, his hair hung in his eyes like his head in embarrassment. You were going to let him finish.

He cupped the back of his head, suddenly feeling so bare before you despite not being physically naked at all. "I thought some space might distinguish or extinguish my feelings for you," he continued, nose wrinkling and lip curling in a wince. "Clearly it didn't help, and I think overall, I realized I wasn't being fair to you—as a friend. And that I was also being the biggest fucking loser ever."

Wait, you were still reeling from the mentions about feelings—

Before you could even address the aforementioned, you had to make something clear first. You felt the corners of your lips lift. "Sunwoo, me and Yangyang really are just friends." At the confused, puppy-dog look in his eyes, you explained further, "That day, Yangyang came by and I made it clear to him that I just saw him as a friend. I felt really awful for feeling like I'd led him on and was going to lose his friendship."

Sunwoo's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and he struggled to come up with the response he wanted. "So… so when he was leaning in toward you…"

"He leaned in and flicked my nose, then almost gave me a nosebleed," you chuckled. You'd given him a very appropriate flick to the forehead after that.

His eyes widened at that. "Well shit. Are you okay?" He asked, and you saw his smile slowly begin to make its appearance, the sun peeking through an overcast sky.

"Yeah, perfectly fine," you dismissed with a flick of your hand. "Especially now. But yeah, we're just friends."

There was a surge of relief in his tense shoulders. "Oh, okay."

He trailed after you as you continued to make your way down this aisle in particular to pick up the things that were on your shopping list.

At one point, he coughed, handing you the jar of red peppers you were reaching for. "So no hard feelings, right? I promise it will be totally back to normal!"

"Normal, as in back to before?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! To be honest, Dovey, I was just kind of scared that I had lost my chance after waiting so long. I don't know. And I realized that I was just scared to face that fact."

You gauged his reaction and your own heart thundered in your chest. "Scared to face the fact that you'd lost your chance with me?"

"Well, yeah. I—" He stopped and froze like a deer in headlights. And in any other circumstance, you would have been laughing, but he seemed so distraught by what he just admitted to that you tried hard to suppress your amusement. Tried. "I just said that aloud, huh."

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

He smiled, cute and flustered, cheeks tinted pink. "You're always too easy a person to talk to," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I would've said something sooner…" He began.

Something jumped to attention in your brain. Oh no. "Was I giving you mixed signals?" You pursed your lips like you'd just gotten into something sour. "'Cause I swore I thought my attraction to you was clear. And, like, the thing where I totally began rethinking my thoughts about Yangyang when you came into the picture—"

"Wow, so Changmin was right?" Sunwoo made a face, holding his hand against his forehead. "That's crazy."

"Crazy good or…?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but admire the twinkle in his eyes as he did. "Crazy so good."

"I don't think people actually say that."

He whined, "Yah, you can't already be clowning me. Not when I just confessed that I like you."

That made you sober up, but you couldn't say the same for your heart rate. Man, your BPM alone could probably power a bullet train… "I like you, too. I hope that's clear."

There you two stood in the middle of the dried foods aisle with twin smiles glowing on your faces, soft and shared. You didn't know what the BOGO pasta was doing, but it was definitely adding to the atmosphere. You had intended for running errands to distract you from whatever Sunwoo had wanted to talk to you about, but clearly that was not the case—it would have never worked like that. You would be damned to have missed something like this. Not with him.

Perhaps he had made a mistake—he was now apologizing and clarifying and trying. You could hear Jihoon's words of wisdom ring loud and clear in your head. There was something perfectly fine about how this turned out.

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

The remainder of your errand run with Sunwoo had gone smoothly, and soon, you were both seated side by side once more on the bus up to the University District. Sunwoo had gotten a couple things for his fridge, too, and so you both sat with your grocery bags by each other and your fingers grazing the other. Ever since you had clarified your position with Sunwoo a little over an hour ago, you had been feeling much lighter, your heart skipping for a different reason. You were back to feeling the giddy excitement you always had around him, and especially since you knew he saw you in exactly the same way.

The two of you shared a laugh as you stepped off the bus and onto your block, grocery bags in hand.

“—I’m being completely serious! Apparently I was just snot-nosed wailing into her shirt about being single and forever alone,” Sunwoo guffawed, grinning wide at you as you both stopped to the side of the walkway. “And Eric was pissed, oh my god.”

“I mean, you just kiss-blocked him; kind of understandable,” you mused.

Sunwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aye, I know. He’s a good guy though. Total loser, but a good loser. He made me hangover soup the next day.”

You let out a laugh, walking slowly with him down toward the entrance of your apartment complex. "That was sweet of him."

He snorted, "A little out of character, but yeah."

"You know," you piped up, "when I was applying and eventually interviewing for the position with Chan and Jihoon, I had no idea what either of them looked like. So I accidentally—woah, shi—"

Somebody coming down the sidewalk toward you crashed into your shoulder and sent you careening toward the sidewalk. Sunwoo swore as you let out a squeak—his arm looping around your waist and hauling you against him to steady you.

He lifted his head in the direction of the person with a glower on his face. "Hey! Dude, watch where you're going!"

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

He turned to fix you with a smile, and you saw the moment he realized the position you were both in: you pressed firmly up against the side of his body, his arm wrapped around you, your faces so close to one another… He released his hold on you, neck burning as he cupped the back of it. "Heh, yeah. It's no problem. People should just really watch where they're going."

You coughed and nodded your head. "Yeah, for sure."

The pair of you were now in front of your apartment complex once more, reluctant to say goodbye. You wondered if he would ask to spend more time with you, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't want to intrude on your time any longer. It wasn't like he was intruding to you, but it was just a feeling you had about him. He wanted to respect your time.

And, well, you both had groceries to put away.

"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.

He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."

"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."

You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."

That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."

You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."

"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.

You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.

When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"

EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—

SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.

"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."

With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.

Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"

"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"

Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."

Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"

Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."

He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.

Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?

But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?

Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.

Then it clicked.

Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."

A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."

Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"

JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."

Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.

He sulked and didn't say anything.

"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.

"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"

Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."

"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"

Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"

"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.

"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."

"Shut up!"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.

Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?

Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.

"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"

Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."

Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."

Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"

"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"

"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.

She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?

The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"

The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.

— ✶

You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.

As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.

"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.

After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.

In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—

He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.

"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.

"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"

You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"

His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."

Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."

You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.

He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."

He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."

You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"

You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.

"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.

The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.

"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.

You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."

He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."

"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."

With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."

a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!

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

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house-of-daena · 8 months

Note

im, im so normal I, male lactation, i need, more. need to get my grimy little boy hands on a guys boobs right now.

uhh male lactation with Dottore if you’d be up for it, preferably male reader but could be gn! Imagine he does an experiment that goes wrong.

Not sure if your requests are full or you wouldn’t want to write something like this, haha. Feel free if delete this if you’re not up for it, thank you in advance, I hope you have a good day!! Sorry if this is so ramble-y or hard to read.

[📺 tv guy from a while ago, you probably know who i am, i’ve been in ur notifs quite a bit haha]

lab experiment gone wrong [dottore x gn.reader]

contents: no pronouns specified, dom reader/sub dottore, nsfw, dubcon(?), dottore is strapped on a bed, lactation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, slight feminization, spanking (only once), degradation (in a sense where you're talking to him as if he's just a test subject), humiliation, some graphic descriptions, syringes, tell me if i miss anything.

꒰ im pretty sure ik who u r and ive sent u a rq so consider this as an equal trade for that 😉 ik i said imma write succubus baizhu first but yeah, my love for dottore won... it was planned to be shorter but idk what happened,, tell me if this one got boring im in tears 😰 rqs r still open btw꒱

everything quickly went by as a blur.

one moment he was in his laboratory, concocting something with chemicals he doesn't remember anymore, before he accidentally dropped the vial, and it splashed right onto his shirt. it seeped through his clothes, the cool liquid touching his chest—then he woke up, strapped on a bed.

alarmed at his state, he thrashed his body against the leather straps, squinting at the operating light that hung directly above his head. he recognizes the room he is currently in; an operating room where he has done most of his experiments. his jaw clenched as his hands closed into fists. who ever dared to try to capture him in his own—

"good, you're awake." dottore's eyes immediately landed on you, his body frozen. your voice echoing at the empty expanse of the room as you walked toward the bed, footsteps loud against the tiled floor, accompanying the silent buzz of machinery. "sleep well? how do you feel?"

now that his initial shock has subsided at the mere sight of you, dottore began to notice a couple of things.

for starters, he was stark naked.

no wonder why his body continued to shudder, no matter how hard he tried to stop it, his skin crawled against the cool metal he lay on. the bed was covered with a thin, white sheet—it was sterile, for once. the leather straps were soft where they met his skin, cyan colored silk that matched his hair was meticulously stitched onto the belt to make sure it didn't irritate the sensitive scars that littered his body. compared to the test subjects that entered this room, he was being treated carefully, while others were tied up with rusting chains instead.

and while he could understand why you've cleaned up the usually dirty room, caked with blood and filth (he was your lover, after all), he doesn't get why he has a gag on his mouth. will your procedure make him scream? his heart skips a beat at the thought.

and you? you were completely covered, compared to his naked self. it made his cheeks burn at the realization, especially when you were dressed as if you were about to perform surgery on him. you wore a lab coat, his in particular, and underneath, you wore your regular fatui clothing. a surgical mask covered half of your face, though he could tell by the wrinkles that formed at the corners of your eyes, and a twinkle that only spoke of mischief that you were grinning widely as you wore gloves, latex slapping against skin.

your fingers card through his hair, caressing his cheek, cooing whilst you looked down on him, both loving and condescending. he felt a chill run down his spine when you looked at him like that—as if he was just a test subject, awaiting whatever you had prepared to do to his body. his adam's apple bobbed as he gulped when you leaned down, lips ghosting over his teasingly. "you gave me quite the scare there," you whispered, and though the contrast of power between you was evident, the enjoyment, the thrill coursing through your veins seeing him so powerless, your voice was laced with worry over him. "imagine my surprise to see you all sprawled out on the floor with shattered glass all over you..."

at this point, dottore can safely assume his experiment, though still in development, was an utter failure. it served a purpose far from his vision, and that is why he was here, strapped on a bed with you overseeing his wellbeing. "though, you are completely safe from harm, i still want to run some tests. just to make sure." your hot breath, through the material of the mask and into his ear, made his skin tingle, and he nodded in agreement. your smile returned and your eyes brightened. "good,"

it was when the pad of your palms pressed against his pectorals that he finally realized his little accident had interesting side effects on his body. his jolted at the sudden touch, eliciting a muffled moan from his lips, and his chest burned with a familiar heat that was slowly spreading all over his body. his teeth dug into the gag in his mouth, squirming against the straps all over his body as you kept squeezing his pecs.

he felt something wet on his chest, and upon raising his head to see what it was, his face visibly reddened when he saw his nipples oozing out a peculiar white liquid that he could guess was milk.

he was lactating. how humiliating.

you hummed as you observed his body, paying no heed to his muffled protests when you kept touching him, tweaking and pinching his hardened nipples that endlessly leaked out milk, trickling down the curves of his puffy chest and sliding down to his quivering stomach. he failed to realize how hard he was until he saw his throbbing cock twitching and drooling almost as much as his breasts were.

normally, he could handle simple touches on his body whenever you were about to fuck him. he had to, lest you'll have to cut the foreplay short. but it was nearly unbearable how his body reacted to your touch, he couldn't imagine if you were to remove your gloves. perhaps it was because of the serum, or he was strapped onto a bed, unable to move or grab onto something, that he felt a lot more than usual.

your fingers were searing hot against his body, especially his chest. it tingled so deliciously when your blunt nails grazed his skin through the gloves. and when you flicked his tip, his cockhead spurted out more of his pre onto your gloves, playing with the sticky substance. it made you chuckle mockingly at him. his chest felt heavy, and it ached so fucking bad. it was so painful yet so good. gods, he wanted more, he needed more. he needs you to keep touching him, to milk him until he's emptied out.

if only he didn't have the gag on his mouth, he would've already begged for you, eyes full of hazy lust, chest heaving erratically at each breath.

all the while your eyes observed his body, wide and watching akin to a hawk's. it examined each reaction his body makes—each time he bucks his hips up in the air, thrusting at nothing as he grew desperate for friction, his nipples oozing copious amounts of glistening milk, each deep breath he had to take to breathe, his unfocused eyes, the drool that dribbled down his chin—everything.

it made him feel so weak before you. so small and vulnerable, like prey ready to be eaten by a beastly predator.

but you pull your hands away before he can even reach the brink of his high, his head falling back onto the pillow you've put just for him, and you take a step back. you grabbed something from the table beside you. you put it near his head, and pressed a button, the grin behind your mask grew.

"audio log #42,"

there was a brief pause in the air, dottore's muffled pants reverberating across the room. before outraged thrashing and kicking made the bed shake, almost making your recording device drop onto the floor. your eyes darkened, and your hand harshly struck his inner thigh, the slap so loud it made his ears ring. dottore's body twitched at the slap, his skin stung at the impact and thighs trembling but it easily reduced him to just squirm and whimper, though sharp eyes glared at you.

"it seems like the high and mighty il dottore has made a mistake inside his laboratory, ultimately inflicting him along with it." the tone of your voice was nothing short of mocking, a silent laugh slipping past your lips with your poor attempt to conceal it, "there isn't something to be ashamed upon making mistakes. however, the doctor has put himself in a rather... shameful predicament." you eye him for a moment, before you laugh once more.

dottore grits his teeth against the gag, his body beyond thrilled at how you spoke to him as if he was nothing more than a test subject ready to be experimented on. he kept squirming against the straps, his cock smearing precum all over his abdomen, mixing with the milk that had pooled on his tummy.

you had barely done anything, and he was already so riled up. you tilted your head at the pathetic display, and all dottore wanted to do was to shrivel up and hide from your degrading gaze. your eyes had a sadistic gleam in them when you grabbed a clipboard and began to read, proceeding with your 'documentation'. "it is a good thing the doctor has left notes and files about his recent research, it seems that..." you rambled onto the recorder, pacing back and forth as you recount all the ingredients he has added into the serum, explaining each of its composition and insight of his procedure.

dottore, try as he might, can't bring himself to focus hard enough to listen to your words as you try to find a solution. your words were nothing but pleasant background noise, his mind slowly fading in and out into a soft buzz. he tugs at the straps around his chest, tighter than the rest of his body. how cruel of you to take advantage of his weakness.

his body yearned for your touch, growing restless at your negligence, his nails clawing at the thin sheet beneath him, swallowing the spit that gathered in his mouth. his glare hardened when you only glanced at him, eyes full of mirth. you were enjoying every single second of this, and dottore swears you will pay for this utter humiliation you're making him go through.

finally, you put down the clipboard and moved close to him again. the entertained spark had vanished in your eyes and was replaced with something more serious, analytical, and cold. his face flushes at how his cock jumps just by your calculating gaze, cursing at himself.

your hands applied pressure on spots that you knew he was sensitive to, and heavy milk just oozed out of his swollen nipples. and when you intentionally pinched them hard, it squirted out milk onto your face and to your clothes. a bewildered chuckle leaves your lips when you see him look away, his face completely red.

"his pectorals have become engorged, effects akin to pregnancy, and it has been excessively leaking with breast milk without a rest." he whimpers helplessly as you continue to play with his nipples, squeezing and rubbing his poor sensitive buds, his body shaking the more you tease them. he keens when you press them hard, and you watch his body shudder as he throws his head back. you longed to hear him make those obscene sounds you adore, but you weren't done recording such an important documentation.

"his nipples have become oversensitive to simple touch. perhaps the serum the doctor made has intensified the effects of pregnancy and the production of certain hormones that even affect the male anatomy, as well as enhancing his perception of stimuli." you rubbed your chin and hummed whilst you thought, completely ignoring the tears that began to roll down his cheeks when you pull away again and pleading pitiably through the gag. "it is highly likely that it is the case. archons know how a serum used to enhance the fatuus to perform better turned into an aphrodisiac." you teased, your finger giving his poor neglected cock a sliver of attention, stroking his shaft, barely touching it, but it still throbbed from the pleasure, twitching and growing even harder.

you grabbed a small flashlight and examined his eyes. he could barely follow your words, blinking dumbly when you pulled away. "his pupils are dilated, and his behavior indicates that... the doctor isn't his usual self," you laugh, shoulders shaking, "how adorable!" and he quivers, from the cold or from the excitement, he doesn't know which.

"to further investigate the subject's condition, i'll have to collect a fair amount of the milk he's begun secreting." despite dottore being so lost in his aching desire to just be touched by you, body begging for relief, his eyes went wide at your words, meeting your eager ones. he could see how wicked your grin through the mask as you held what it seems to be breast pumps in your hands, a contraption used for lactation with women. dottore began thrashing again, his pride, long shattered ever since he had let himself be so submissive to you, still making its stand. as a fatui harbinger, he just cannot accept this! and for you to record it? gods, you will never live this down if he allows this.

where did you even get such a thing, anyway!? do you just have it lying around for an opportunity like this?

he glares at you again, shouting profanities and tugging on the straps to release himself from the restraints, but everything falls on deaf ears as you push his body down against the metal surface, a cackle bubbling from your chest and sending chills down his spine. easily, you attached the cups onto his chest, and cusped around his perky buds.

grabbing his chin between your pointer and your thumb, you lift it upwards to keep his pretty eyes on you, shimmering crimson with glittering lashes from his tears, sharp and deadly. though, you could only see the sheer desperation in his eyes, soft whines, and begging you to just spare him.

hah! as if your darling deserves any mercy. you merely cooed at him, before you took out a remote and pressed a button. the device spurred to life, and it began to automatically squeeze and pump his tits, making dottore roll his eyes back and arch his back, straining against the leather straps that held him back. he mewls when the pump milks his puffy breasts violently, sucking and kneading until his skin starts to bruise. it was maddening, endlessly tugging on his nipples, trying to get all of his milk as it pours and pours into the glass container.

his body was convulsing, writhing from the pleasurable bliss that never stops, a paradise within hell. his vision was blurred from his tears, and he began to see stars when your hand, free from your gloves, began to tug on his painfully erect cock. you squeezed it as much as the breast pumps did, eliciting a muffled cry as he bit hard onto the gag, sharp teeth leaving indents on the plastic material.

even if he came, you didn't stop, fingers rubbing his sensitive cockhead and picking up the pace. it was like he was constantly high above the clouds, burning hotter and hotter. his body spasms at each orgasm you wring out from him, his mind so lost that he can't even think anymore. what are you milking him for? his cum or for his milk? he doesn't know at this point, you just did what you pleased on his body.

and he didn't care, he was stuck in an endless loop of euphoria that he barely registered that faint prick of pain right above his hip bone. dazed eyes manage to look at you, confused, only to laugh at him. "curious?" you ask, your voice echoing inside his head, whimpering as he nods, "oh, just your serum i had recreated while you were asleep."

dottore was too far gone to properly react to what you had said, only squeezing his eyes shut as you took another shot of the serum and injected it into one of his pectorals. he was babbling against the gag in his mouth, choking on his own spit as his body burns with more ardent need, more intense than before. he felt his cock swell, so warm in your hand and drooling with his arousal, while his tits felt like it was on fire.

all he knows is that this was so addicting—the pleasure, the pain, he doesn't want it to stop. he wants you to keep milking him, to plunge your cock inside his hole and fuck him to your heart's content. you were treating him like a mere experiment, with no regard for him, only for the results. he fucking loves the feeling, tied down, helpless, surrendering his everything to you.

but perhaps that was just the serum reforming his thoughts.

his hips, taut against the air as he ruts into your fist, while your other hand takes off the glass container connected to the pump and replaces it with another. eyeing the milk that sloshed back and forth in your hand. pulling down your mask, you took a sip, gulping it down until the container was empty. licking your lips, refreshed and satisfied, you shot him a wolfish grin when you saw him watching you drink his milk.

"the milk produced by the lovely doctor tasted very sweet. better than any dairy produce i have ever drank by far," he looked proud at your statement, dumbly smiling as his head lolls to the side. "i'll have to run a few more tests before i begin working on a reverse serum."

dottore's body ached, worn out. he doesn't know how long since you've begun toying with him, letting him experience pleasure again and again until he's completely lost his mind. he was trembling, shakily breathing in between his pitiful moans. he lets out a scream, curling his toes and tossing his head back onto the pillow as he cums again, spurting it all over your hand and onto your clothes, but you paid no mind, only moving your hand even faster.

you tilted your head as you watched dottore crumble in your hands. he was so fun to mess with, so easily broken, such a slut for anything you do to him and his body. you tutted, your other hand cupping his cheek, affectionately caressing it, and he sobs.

"or perhaps i'll merely settle with milking dottore dry." your eyes sparkle when he leans his head onto your hand, his drool pooling onto your palm. his eyes screamed yes! more, please! at you, and you laughed, pressing a loving kiss on his forehead. "it's a more fun solution, is it not? don't worry, my love, i'll take good care of you.

end of audio log #42."

#» asmo's writings #» dottore #» 📺 anon #dottore x reader #dottore x male reader #sub dottore #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

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jishyucks · 4 months

Text

Flight of Fate — sjy

‣ pairing: jake sim x reader

‣ genre: fluff, meet-cute, implied strangers to something more

‣ wc: 4.5k

‣ summary: After months of being apart from your family, you finally get to fly back home for the holidays. On the flight there, you’re placed next to a cute stranger who has taken it upon himself to talk to you. What happens when the roads from the airport are closed overnight and you’re stuck with said stranger? You’re just hoping he doesn’t have any plans of kidnapping you.

‣ warnings: reader’s from Korea, but an ethnicity is not not explicitly stated (travels from Sydney to Korea, and family is from Korea), reader’s shorter than Jake, one quick scene where it’s really crowded

‣ an: uhh,,, idk how this reached 4.5k (I just kept writing) but this was cute ngl,,, im sorry if it seems so rushed in some parts, I rly wanted to write everything more detailed but I need to keep these short :( and im behind on this series’ sched too rip, but I still enjoyed writing this, soooo pls enjoy reading! *hand heart*

Series Masterlist

The second you settle into your airplane seat, you knock out.

No, you didn’t care about seat belt instructions and how to tug the oxygen bag on, nor did you care about where the exits were on the plane because, frankly, you’ve flown enough times to recite it yourself.

So the moment you sit down in your chair, even double-checking to see if you are in the correct seat, you buckle yourself up, slip your headphones on and shut your eyes.

In your half-slumbered state, you feel the shuffling of other flyers nearby, you can hear the aggressive shutting of the overhead compartments above your seat, and you can hear the engine begin with a loud hum.

You try to lull yourself to sleep with thoughts of finally coming home after months of studying abroad, feeling the corners of your lips lift to tighten your lips into a smile. You missed being home and seeing your parents, your siblings, your dog. You missed your bedroom and your house, and that familiar bump in the road that the car falls victim to on the way home.

And despite having to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to leave for the airport, it was all worth it when you remember that you’ll see and feel all of this soon.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Gentle tapping on your shoulder rouses you from sleep, and you're uncertain how far into your flight you are.

“Hm?” You realize you’re lying on a stranger’s shoulder when you raise your head. Your neck almost breaks when you turn to look at him, “Shit.”

“Would you like any drinks?” The flight attendant questions from your right and she and the other passenger, a woman, next to you are staring back at you, “We have pop, juice, tea, water, and coffee.” Her fingers hover over the selection of drinks, waiting for your response.

“Um,” you say, voice hoarse from just waking up, “Just water would be fine, thank you.” The woman nods and pours you water into a cup, handing it over to you before moving on to the next set of people behind you.

It’s suddenly getting really hot underneath your sweater and you’re growing a hundred times more aware of the man to your left. You’re afraid to even look at him, embarrassed that you were using his shoulder as a pillow.

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s got his hood up, a mask covering the lower half of his face. His head is angled down to his lap, probably using his phone, so he doesn’t notice the way you’re tensing up all because of him.

You clear your throat and turn to the woman next to you, “How long into the flight are we?” She gives you a side-eye, not even bothering to give you an answer before she sticks her nose back into her book.

Before irritation kicks into your system, the man next to you speaks up. His voice comes out as soft, which you honestly didn’t expect.

“We’re about two hours in.”

You whip your head in his direction, eyes wide when you realize he’s looking back at you, “T-thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” he replies. The way his eyes curve, you can tell he’s smiling behind his mask, “Looks like you were having a good sleep there, huh? Sorry I had to wake you up.” You can’t tell if he was making fun of you or not. But the tone in his voice seemed playful.

You feel your cheeks heat up and you turn away from him, embarrassed that you were almost drooling on his shoulder, “Uh yeah, I did… sorry about… you know…”

When your eyes flicker to his arm, he immediately understands what you’re trying to say and he lets out a laugh that wouldn’t disturb anyone else on the plane, “It’s nothing. I really didn’t mind, to be honest. I hope that doesn’t sound creepy.”

You feel the tension in your body begin to dissipate, shoulders falling back against your seat as you continue the conversation, “Well, if you don’t mean it in a creepy way, then it’s not creepy.” You reach for your water sitting on the pull-down table in front of you and take a sip from it.

Your actions somehow remind the man that he had just gotten a drink, too, so he mirrors your actions, extending his arm to grab the cup of coke sitting on his own table. He hums to acknowledge your reply before tugging down his mask to take a sip and, oh boy, were you not ready to see his face.

Sure the man had pretty eyes and a voice that could perfectly suit a podcast or two, but you didn’t expect him to look…

Okay, he was cute. Like really cute. He resembled a puppy, in a cute way and you were trying your best not to physically react to the man’s face reveal. You let out a huff of air and then take another sip of water before you scoot back into your chair.

He gulps down the beverage, mask hanging off one ear. He looks over at you and offers a grin, which you find yourself swooning over, “So, are you going home or are you on a trip?”

Your heart warms at his efforts to make conversation and you’re driven to angle your body closer toward his direction instead of directly in front of you, “I’m going home, how about you?”

He nods, “On a trip, but I have a lot of family in Korea, so it’s a mix?” The boy’s eyes look off to the side as he’s honestly unsure how he should describe his trip.

“You’re going alone?” You ask.

“My family went ahead of me because I had exams,” he continues, “They wanna get their money’s worth with the tickets so they wanted to head there earlier.”

You nod, “That’s fair.”

And he lets out a low hum, “Yeah, gotta squeeze every bit out of those tickets.”

You nod again and look down at your lap. There’s a beat of a brief silence before you see a hand stick out under your nose, palm facing you, “I’m… Jake, by the way.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that neither of you asked for names. The conversation just rolled out naturally. Since Jake offered his left hand to shake yours, you do the same, gently taking his hand, “Y/N.”

Surely, you thought that conversation would end there, maybe with a bit more small talk over the next several hours of the flight, but boy, you were wrong.

The (one-sided) awkwardness between you and Jake seemed to dissipate entirely as time elapsed and you found yourself genuinely enjoying your conversation with Jake. The conversation jumped from topic to topic, starting off with the basics like where you studied and majors before it branched out into more specific subjects like why you chose to study biomedical sciences and why he aspired to be an engineer. Then, it was a matter of time before you dove down into what your go-to movie was when it came to flying, especially when the flying time between Australia and South Korea was long.

“Do you like Australia or Korea more?” Jake looked over at you with a cheeky smile, knowing that the question was something that would throw you off.

You take a moment to think because, yes, Korea was your home. It was where you were born and raised. But you’ve also grown to love Australia over the past almost 4 years of undergrad. It was different from your hometown, but you’d say that’s also a place you could call home, too. It was genuinely hard to choose, especially when Jake, someone who was born and raised in Australia, was waiting on an answer—you didn’t want to offend him or betray your own town.

“Well…” You say, “Both?” “Oh, c’mon~” Jake whines playfully, “If you had to choose one, and only one, which one would you choose?”

“Well, I’d choose South Korea,” you retort, “The same way and reason you’d probably choose Australia.” You peek at the boy through your lashes before a small grin appears on your face, “Am I right?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jake mirrors your expression, “But I still love Korea.”

“That’s me with Australia,” you point out, “They’re both really different, so it’s hard to choose a favourite. But I like familiarity, which is why I chose Korea.” The weather and climate, geography, people… the list goes on. Both places were beautiful in their own way.

If it wasn’t for the flight attendant returning for the 2nd meal of the flight, you would not have realized that there was far less than half of the flight left for you to go. The hours had passed by seamlessly, and you're surprised by how fast the time has flown. Jake was easy to talk to and the conversations with him had made the flight feel like a brief interlude rather than a long-haul journey.

As you enjoy the meal, Jake glances at the small screen in front of him, checking the flight progress. "We're almost there," he remarks, a hint of regret in his voice.

The realization that your journey is coming to an end settles in. You can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment, knowing that you'll soon part ways. The prospect of returning to your routine is now accompanied by a newfound friendship, one you didn't anticipate when you boarded the plane.

"I guess we'll be landing soon," you say, trying to mask the reluctance in your voice.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are now beginning our descent into Seoul, South Korea. The local time is 5:38 in the evening. Please remain seated with your seatbelts securely fastened as we make our approach. The weather in Seoul is a chilly negative nineteen and heavy snowfall, but do not worry, we expect a smooth landing. Thank you for flying with Korean Air."

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Jake trails behind you as you both make your way out of the terminal, rolling your carry-on down the long airport corridor. Your legs feel like jelly from the sitting, almost feeling like a newborn calf learning how to walk for the first time.

You pass by people waiting to board their planes, and others arriving alongside your flight. Although the air in the airport was refreshing in comparison to the plane, you were craving to get a whiff of actual fresh air from outside.

When you finally reach the exit, you couldn’t help but glance back to see if Jake was still there, which he, in fact, was. His eyes melt into crescents when he notices you looking back—you’re guessing he’s smiling—and you quickly turn back to look where you’re going.

You wonder if it was too far-fetched to ask him for his number.

Besides, he wasn’t a total stranger. You spoke to the man for practically the entire flight, excluding the times you both wanted some shut-eye or needed to get up to pee.

So he really wasn’t a stranger.

You were just afraid that it would be weird to actually ask for his number or his socials.

You don’t expect to see a huge crowd of people the minute you step out of the terminal and into the baggage claim area. It was almost as if someone had amplified the sound of bees buzzing, the muttering and babble of people filling the room.

“What in the…” you hear Jake next to you, almost confused as you were, “What’s going on?”

You turn and look up at him, shrugging as you bring yourself up to your tippy toes to try and gather some kind of feasible understanding of the situation. Left and right, individuals were yelling (rather angrily), and others appeared to be just as confused as you were.

People were trickling in from behind, slowly pushing you and Jake closer to the people in front of you. And when Jake notices the way your eyes widen at the accumulating group of people, he situates himself behind you to act as a buffer between you and the growing crowd.

“For those of you just joining us, we want to explain what is going on.” A man closer to the front of the crowd was standing on a counter, megaphone in hand. The room grows quiet, though not completely. “As you all know, it is currently snowing rather heavily in Seoul. The city has decided to close the roads to ensure everyone’s safety.”

Loud murmuring erupts among the people and you hear Jake join in, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“This means…” The man waits for room to grow quiet so that he doesn’t need to repeat himself again, “This means that you all, unfortunately, have to stay put within the airport as we wait for the city to reopen the roads. From our understanding, we do not know how long this will take, as it is still snowing. We apologize for the inconvenience. We are providing some resources and services for free or at a discounted price for the time being. Thank you for your understanding."

He hops off the counter and the crowd begins to disperse. Although angry, disappointed, or confused, everyone knew that they really couldn’t do anything about the situation.

You’re not sure how to feel. Because you were so close to getting home and now the damn snow has decided to stop you from doing so. The man did say that it wasn’t going to be long before the roads reopened, but you felt like you were a puppy being held back by a leash.

“This is fucking stupid.” You say this to no one in particular, feeling tension in your forehead when you furrow your brows.

“Look at the bright side,” Jake says, “You’ll get home safely. I’m sure they’re probably clearing and salting the roads right now.”

You huff, “You’re right.” The taut muscles in your shoulders loosen at the thought and you mentally thank Jake for pointing that out. You’d very much rather get home in one piece. And you’re pretty sure your family would like that too.

“Hey, since we’re sorta snowed in,” Jake starts, “Wanna go grab our luggage and then find someplace to sit together?” Then he realizes how weird this could sound depending on the person, “We can talk and stuff?”

Though that was a given that you were going to be sticking around Jake until you left, especially since you did not want to spend this time alone, you appreciate the way he still asked you. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

With a huff and a shared understanding, you and Jake make your way to the baggage claim carousel. People were already awaiting their bags, standing behind the yellow line marked for safety around it. The atmosphere in the airport feels different now. The excitement you had initially felt was replaced with a mix of frustration and resigned acceptance, and you were sure that the other travellers were feeling the same way.

As your luggage appears on the conveyor belt, you and Jake quickly grab your belongings and maneuver through the dispersing crowd in search of a place to settle.

“Do you care where we go?” Jake asks. He’s taken it upon himself to look for a spot for you both, being able to crane his neck higher over the crowd, “Or do you prefer a corner?”

“Somewhere with enough space,” you retort, “Otherwise, I don’t mind anywhere.”

You watch Jake as he gets up on his tippy toes, teetering from one foot to the other. He knows it shouldn’t be too hard, especially since other travellers were moved to the 2nd floor.

“There!” Jake mindlessly grabs your hand and starts speed walking, dodging people walking aimlessly. His long legs send you flying, trying to keep up with his pace. Sure it wasn’t super fast, but with his long strides, you find yourself running to match Jake’s steps.

He guides you to a place closer to the wall of the airport, seats empty for you guys to wait it out. You’re surprised that no one has actually taken the space yet, but you figured that since it was a harder-to-reach area, people didn’t want to bother making their way to the spot and instead decided to settle on whatever free area they could find.

When Jake realizes that he is still holding your hand, he quickly lets go, "Guess I got a bit carried away there. Sorry about that." He stuffs his hand into his hoodie pocket and his mask covers the bashful smile.

“It’s fine,” you say reassuringly. It’s not like Jake had any ill intentions when he grabbed your hand.

To change the topic, you suggest making the small area comfy for the two of you, ensuring that it truly was a place that would be great to relax while you waited the situation out.

You and Jake drape your coats over the chairs you’ve claimed, setting your suitcases and bags down to create a mini barrier between your space from your neighbours. The airport's ambiance echoes with a mixture of impatience and resignation. As you and Jake settle into your makeshift waiting area, the tension in the air slowly begins to dissipate. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional announcement overhead become the backdrop to your current predicament.

"Alright," Jake says, looking around your little haven, "Now we just wait, I guess."

You nod, pulling out your phone to check for any updates. The snow outside seems to be relentless, creating a serene yet inconvenient winter wonderland. You sigh, realizing that this situation might take longer than expected. You send your mom a quick update, explaining the situation before you go to reach for your laptop.

“Wanna watch a show with me?” you suggest, “Kill some time?”

Jake doesn’t hesitate to accept your invitation, stating that he didn’t mind any show. You balance your computer up on your suitcase and press play on an older episode of Abbott Elementary.

The show, you figured, was a feel-good show, one that you hoped would distract the both of you from the current situation. Surely enough, you and Jake find yourselves immersed in the show, occasionally laughing and commenting.

It was funny when you think about the current situation. You were trapped at the airport with a boy you met not even twelve hours ago and you were enjoying your time. Which was odd. Because you knew that if you were going through this entire situation alone, you wouldn’t know how you’d be doing.

That points back to the question of whether you should ask Jake for his number or his number (or just anything you can use to contact him). Would it still be weird at this point? I mean… he held your hand… even if it was instinctively. It shouldn’t be weird, right?

After a few episodes, the long day started taking a toll on you and your eyes began to grow heavy. If you weren’t in the same room as a hundred and something other people, you would have just been knocked out right then and there. But there was a good chunk of you that was afraid to go to sleep, both for your safety and your belongings sitting out in the open like this.

“If you’re tired, you can take a nap,” Jake reads you like a book. You didn’t even realize that he noticed, “I’ll watch over you and our stuff. But only if you let me keep watching.”

Your stomach flutters at his offer. If you were being honest, Jake was scaring you just a little bit. Because how can a guy be so cute and so kind and seem so perfect?

You hum and give him a side-eye, “And how do I know I can trust you?”

Jake’s eyes widened, alarmed, “I haven’t done anything creepy, have I? I-I said I was sorry all those times!”

You almost laugh out loud, “But what if that was all just to gain my trust?” You were mostly joking, but you were still suspicious simply because Jake didn’t seem real.

Jake’s face contorted, visibly thinking the situation through, “Okay, I pinky promise you I’m a good person! A pinky promise is one of the strongest promises of all promises.” He sticks his pinky out like a child, blinking rapidly at you with his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” you huff, locking your pinky with his, “Wake me up in an hour? Then I’ll let you nap.” Jake nods and watches as you slump in your seat, angling your body across the chair and using your arm as a pillow.

When you wake up, it almost feels surreal that you’re waking up in a packed airport, the fluorescent lights still beating down on those trying to rest. You lift your head to look at Jake, feeling the blood rush oddly in your head at the sudden change of position.

You smile when you see that Jake is still there, sitting and watching a show on your laptop like how you left him. The only difference was that he was holding a hot beverage cup in his hand and that another was sitting on top of his own suitcase. When he spots you stirring, a warm smile spreads across his face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he says, his voice a gentle wake-up call.

You greet him back and reach for your phone, checking to see if you have any notifications. When your eyes flicker to the time, you gasp and go to hit Jake on the shoulder, “Jake, I told you to wake me up after an hour! It’s been three!”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he replies. He leans forward and picks the other cup up, “Here I got you hot chocolate and a cookie not long ago. I didn’t know what you liked. I asked the lady over there if she could watch you and our stuff if I got her a drink, too.”

You thank him, taking the drink and cookie before taking a long sip from the cup, “Thanks… Now I feel bad because you haven’t been able to go to sleep.”

Jake smiles nervously, “If I’m being honest I fell asleep for a bit… Please don’t be mad at me! One second I was awake and the next I was waking up!”

You can’t help but laugh, “I’m not mad at you, don’t worry. Thanks for watching our stuff by the way.”

“It was nothing, really,” Jake says, “I didn’t mind it at all.”

Your eyes twinkle realizing that Jake's sincerity is both endearing and genuine. As you sip the hot chocolate, the warmth seeping through your body, you feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected company in this airport limbo.

Then you look around. The atmosphere around you has shifted. Despite everyone’s initial rush to get home for the holidays, you notice that everyone has given up on stressing themselves out, settling on their temporary homes within the airport, sharing stories, snacks, and even the occasional game. It was cute.

“Wanna go for a short stroll?” Jake speaks up, “I’ll make a deal with auntie again.”

“Let’s go.” You nod ecstatically, needing to stretch your legs, “And I want real food too.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have some important news. The snowstorm has finally abated, and we are pleased to inform you that the city has reopened the roads. Flights will now resume their regular schedules. Please check the updated departure boards for your new gate assignments. Thank you for your cooperation, and we apologize for any inconvenience caused."

The announcement echoes through the airport, bringing a wave of renewed energy and a realization that the long wait is finally over.

You exchange a wide-eyed glance with Jake, the reality of the situation hitting you. The roads are open, and your journey home is back on track. For some odd reason, you even feel like crying, because you’ve been stuck at the airport for almost eight hours (the longest eight hours of your life), and now you finally get to leave. Your wide eyes were quickly replaced with that of relief and excitement.

“Fucking finally,” Jake breathes out. The two of you join the collective movement as passengers around you celebrate the news. Luggage is grabbed, bags are slung over shoulders, and the airport buzzes back to life. You can already predict that traffic is going to be nasty on the way home despite it being almost one in the morning.

It hadn’t dawned down on you that you and Jake were going to be separating ways soon and you still weren’t sure if it was okay to ask him for any contact information. It was either grow a pair and just go for it, or never speak to him again.

You start bundling up, sending a quick text to your mom to ask if she is on her way when you feel Jake staring at you through between his hood and scarf.

“I had fun today,” Jake says, “Genuinely.”

“I did too,” you reply, “I don’t know how I would’ve survived if I was alone.”

You continue rummaging with your things, making sure you have everything that you brought with you.

“I’d like to—” Jake clears his throat, “I’d like to hang out again.”

Your hands pause their movements as Jake's words hang in the air. His admission catches you by surprise, and you turn to look at him, meeting his gaze through the layers of winter clothing.

"Yeah?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. A sense of relief washes over you, thankful that you weren’t the only one who was enjoying your time with the other.

"Yeah," Jake confirms with a nod. "I mean, if you're up for it. No pressure, of course.” The sincerity in his eyes reassures you, and you find yourself reciprocating the sentiment.

"I'd like that. A proper hangout, not stuck in an airport this time."

Jake grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Deal." Jake shyly sticks his phone out to you, the screen showing a new contact page. You gladly take it, happy that Jake took it upon himself to ask for your number.

"I guess we should get going," Jake suggests, noticing the large groups of people gathering by every exit of the building.

"Yeah, my mom's near, actually," you say, shouldering your bag. "I’ll text you when I can, and we'll plan something."

"Looking forward to it," Jake replies.

The two of you follow the wave of people leaving the airport in silence, focusing on actually getting out of the building. Surprisingly, the constant pace that the other people were taking had allowed you both to finally step foot out of the airport, and you two were able to get a much-needed whiff of fresh air.

Before you actually part ways with Jake, you turn to him, "Happy holidays, Jake. Take care, okay?"

“You too.” He nods, “Let me know when you get home safely."

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @mrchweeee @ariadores @reignessance

#Enhypen #sim jaeyun #jake sim #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #sim jaeyun imagines #sim jaeyun scenarios #jake sim imagines #jake sim scenarios #Kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #sim jaeyun x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen x reader

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ivnxrori · 16 days

Text

When Sun and Moon meet - S2

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: none

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 8 - Failed

I grabbed the paper against the wall, a missing poster of Appa with a picture of Appa and Aang in boxes. Where did Appa go? I looked around to see a bunch of the same missing posters flying around and found someone who I didn't want to see. Zuko. He was holding the same paper as me, as well as looking around to see where these papers even come from. I snatched the paper from his hand causing him to turn around. “What do you think you're doing?” Zuko glared at me. “You came to Ba Sing Se just to track the avatar?” I spat. “How is that your business?” “Because your trying to capture someone that benefits your father only”

“I'm the son of the Fire lord-” “Yes I know that! which is why-” “Lee!” The old man said out loud, calling to Zuko. “Lee?” I questioned as Zuko groaned. “Okay, whatever your name is you can't just constantly chase the avatar forever” I whispered so only he could hear. Zuko turned around and reached behind my head, making my eyes widen at the contact till he yanked my hood down. “Ow!” I yelped. “Do you want people to find out about your identity?” Zuko scolded as I glared at his attempt of ‘keeping me hidden’. “You could have been more gentler” I scoffed while he rolled his eyes. “Anyways, I was just saying that your just wasting time finding the avatar” “Wasting time?!” He spat “You wouldnt understand the situation i'm in” “No I wouldn't” I stated more confidently than I should have which made Zuko look at me dumbfounded. “But I feel like you getting the avatar won't actually fulfill you” I attempted to stop him “I got banished from my nation, having a scar to prove my humility and you get everything that you want yet you chose to run away!” My eyes widened at his anger “You’re pathetic, still wanting to go to the fire nation after getting ejected” I hissed but looked to my side and saw a girl, who was quite nervous. She had two braids and was wearing the earth kingdom attire. Zuko looked towards the girl as well, feeling awkward. “Oh…Lee, who is this?” She looked towards me with saddened eyes. My mouth was dry as I couldn't come up with an earth kingdom name. “Limi” Zuko squeaked “Also…part of the uhh circus”. I glared at his stupidity, Limi? Really? And Circus?? “Yep im Lee!” I presented smiling and slightly bowing “Now I have to go do my circus-ie duties” I waved off but not forgetting to glare at Zuko once more and left to get Aku.

҉ ☾

“Alright Aku, let's go see Sakari, '' I said softly, ushering Aku to start moving. My mood was left completely sour from that occurrence. I didn't leave for no reason nor did I get everything I wanted. Sure, my past was probably not bad unlike his but it's not like I get everything. Oh well I shouldnt take his words to heart, it's just Zuko. “What in the world is that?” I turned Aku to get a better look at the lake, though I swore I saw something. “Let's take a closer look” Aku starts moving down to the lake. I hop off finding my surroundings quite suspicious. I take a closer look at the water, using my water bending to split apart the liquid to different sides. Before I saw what was there a whole wall came in front of me. I turned around and saw the Ba Sing Se guards. “You must have figured it out” a man with a deep voice and a black mustache with black hair tied back. “No I haven't” I said “yet”. I immediately take advantage of the lake behind me, using it to block the rocks coming towards my way. Using my waterbending to wrap around the guards ankles, making them fall back. Everything was going well until I felt the rock hands behind my wrists. I yelped in surprise, feeling them lock behind me. “Whatever you're hiding from your people isn't going to last long.” I spat. “It's better for Ba Sing Se” “Oh really?” I mocked. I felt tugs behind my wrist and internally panicked. Oh no where are they even taking me? “Let me go!” I yell, my eyes widened slowly by Aku getting hurt by the soldiers attempting to capture him. That was my last straw, I immediately tried to moisten the rocks behind me with the water in the air softing it for me to either manipulate or melt off. Luckily it was near a lake so the moisture was able to melt the rocks off. I ran to Aku, shoving the people behind me with water. “Even if you go back to Ba Sing Se no one will believe you” I glared at the man. I felt enemies coming towards me with their bending, I closed my eyes and lifted my hands from the impact but I felt none. I opened my eyes and saw them. Their eyes were widened in shock. My arms fall to my side only for their whole being to fall on the ground. This time, it was my turn to be shocked. “Her hair!” One of the guards said. I looked up to see my hood completely off, I immediately pulled it down which made the other soldiers get up in relief. What in the world is happening. “Not only she’s a princess, she is a blood bender” The man glared which made me look up in shock. A bloodbender? The waves of anxiety caused rain clouds from above. This is not the best time right now. From the few seconds of shock, I felt the rock hands fill my whole hand, to my wrist to prevent me from using any form of water bending. “Wait! Stop!” I scream attempting to resist. The rain becomes heavier as the soldiers glare at the clouds in annoyance. How come I'm so slow when it comes to this? My resistance faded when I felt the water consuming my vision.

“Y/N? I don't think she’s fit to be a princess” “Her personality just doesn't…fit”

Huh? What are these voices? I opened my eyelids with some struggle, groaning as I got up. Where am I? I look at my surroundings, the best way to describe it is me…being on a cloud. Everything felt foggy, just faint silhouettes of my people. “Shame it was Yue who died instead of Y/N”. My eyes widened as I looked down miserably. “She is a betrayer in the end” “Poor Chief Arnook”. I attempted to speak up but the whole environment turned pitch black. I couldn't see anything around me. “You expect the water tribe to respect you” an eyeball outlined in white popped up. I flinched and moved back, glaring at it in confusion. “You’re the one that left us after all” The eyeball blinked. “Wait! I can come back!” I tried to compromise it, sweat dripping behind my neck. “Don't even think about it, you're not welcome here.” I'm not welcomed? To my own nation? A wave of people came back, including my father, Sivoy and Yue. They all looked at me in disappointment, I felt tears coming down my face. “Please…say something” I scream desperately. “I can't believe my own daughter left her family” My father said, taking Sivoy. I trembled, falling down on my knees. “Yue…please” I beg, praying she would say something encouraging. “You left me, Y/N…how could you?” Yue glared at me. I said nothing, just went down looking at the floor. “Things haven't changed Y/N, still the selfish, self centered, princess.” the voices kept repeating against my ears. “You should have died back there Y/N” I gripped my hair, silently praying for them to stop.

I woke up, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped off my face onto the cold rock floor. I got up attempting to run away but I felt a force stopping me. The jangling already gave me the hint. I was chained to the ground around the wrists. “Let me go!” I scream as loud as I can, attempting to break the chain. “I need to prove it to my family! To my nation!” I cried out loud, trying to get someone to hear me. “I'm a princess…im a princess…” I move my forehead against the rock cold floor. I sniffed heavily, trying to keep my breathing stable. I lifted my head up, trying to scan the weak part of the chain. Luckily I was able to navigate it and kicked it with my foot. I was tired, really tired. “Should I even go back home?” I lean back to look at the ceiling. I really have no one…

҉ ☾

I managed to get out of that horrible place with ease. I was able to use one of the teachings Sakari gave me for closed areas. Trying to find gaps with oxygen, since this area was under water it had more water moisture in the air which I was able to find an area to exit from. I pushed back the lid where it was originally there and looked around my surroundings, There was no one…not even Aku. All my motivation to explore was gone, I didn't even want to meet Sakari anymore. I lean my head against the floor of a slope and rethink my dream. Was it just a nightmare? Or was it true? I usually brush off horrible thoughts but that…sounded too real. They were right too…I haven't changed at all. I left my tribe, I'm a traitor. I'm not some regular person, I'm a princess who left her duties for her own selfishness. This is such a stupid adventure, I haven't found what I needed at all. I just found what I already lost. “You should have died back there Y/N” I heard it again. This is a sign. I stood up from the ground looking at the sky, thank god it isnt night. I walk towards the water, stepping in. I felt the coldness around my legs. I continued to walk towards my key to make everything better. This is for my people.

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: Hello!! Sorry fro not uploading im trying to upload once every week but it will be delayed a lot!! Im going to try to upload this on my own feed so uh y eah!!! Hope yall had fun really and take care of yourself! Holy shti im tired

taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish @pbeckn26 @jasminesacademia

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gunthermunch · 7 months

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[Transcript under the cut]

Marcus: decaf WG: thanks. don't think i asked for decaf Marcus: pretty sure you could use some decaf WG: damn. maybe WG: …sorry, i'm really not good at small talk Marcus: you think i enjoy weather talk? just sip that coffee Wolf. It's cool. WG: ok but don't go ''you're being doomy'' at me Marcus: okay? why would i do that. WG: you weren't there when mom used to take us to big family gatherings Marcus: true. i was busy partying WG: … WG: shit WG: do you uh. mind? if i ask you something? Marcus: i'm all ears WG: do… you also have these thoughts like- haunting… words? or something. I mean, stuff you or someone else said before and it's stuck in your head and shitting everywhere like a bug like a… fly. Marcus: A fly? WG: yeah. maybe three. WG: I dunno, i think its been kinda growing with me, y'know? more space in there, more flies Marcus: did uh- i mean, what happened? WG: uhh yeah i don't think you wanna hear all that it really is a lot Marcus: i've heard a lot of stuff these years WG: are you sure? i dont think i ever told anyone all of it Marcus: yeah c'mon WG: well okay, so… WG: Mom probably told you about my kid years so im not getting into that. then there's my teens and it's messed up i almost die thrice, scary shit. anyways i went blonde, started larping, decided i no longer wanted anything to do with my own body and life and then suddenly school was over and of course i wanted to die for good so then i was all alone, made that to myself, stuff stuff i also met a guy before this he was great and i also turned my back on him. then i don't even remember how but i followed Cassandra to Strangerville which was a whole fever dream jesus fucking christ and then there was Nervous. love that guy. I asked Cass on a date but i messed everything up, then ran away. Again. Stole her whole truck. Now i'm a different kind of blonde and also a babysitter and also completely useless. WG: And now- so, years ago i accidentaly discovered this secret door in Gunther's house that leads to a basement and christ who even does that? the hell? and i'm SURE it has to do with whatever Bluma's going through so that means I could fix it up but i'm not doing it because i'm still running away. And I'm not even scared, I'm just letting stuff happen WG: and i cant keep being on my own. and i need someone. WG: man i miss Morgan. WG: i think that's all Marcus: …you still got that Cassandra's number?

#aha. tehhee e #ts4 #ts4 story #munch #wolfgang munch #if you see a typo ignoreit #marcus flex

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ultra-raging-ghost · 3 months

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Where would you leave your child when you die?

Felps: in a beautiful place with happy people and good stuff Bad: No yeah same thing in a very happy place probably with a close relative where he can be taken care of.. id probably make Cucurucho take care of him and his sister

2. If you disappeared for a few days, where would you go?

Felps: i think i... i went to uhh.. an experiment or an ice block? Thats what happened to me before so i dunno if it would happen again? maybe heaven? Bad: Probably wherever my son is - if he's with cucurucho i guess id be in cucuruchos attick or something

3. Your last meal?

Felps: Pasta Bad: something really hard and difficult to get- Dapper: Your head on a spike Bad: yes! Can i get fried prison guard?

4. Which prisoner would you miss the most?

Felps: Guard #7? Prisoner #7 maybe? Bad: ummm.. is there any context? like why? Guard: [repeats the question] Bad: are you gonna kill them or?? Am i being killed?? Felps: create a new prisoner, like a new prisoner name Bad: F.. f.f uhhhh...... felps? Felps! Felps: WHAT THE FUCK MAN Bad: IM SORRY, I WAS GONNA SAY FOOLISH BUT I DIDNT KNOW IF HED DIE OR NOT

5. What would you do with a failed experiment?

Bad: i mean if its a failed experiment id send it to a nice peaceful livingspace where it can spend the rest of its life in harmony... Felps: YEAH! Bad: Definitely save it, care for it, not crucify it! Felps: Yeah no blood! Bad: Well... not no blood, maybe a little bit of blood if im peckish

#qsmp #liveblogging

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seaslugdisco · 8 months

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nuzi is not a proship, i understand the confusion of the unclear timeline, but this is my understanding and how it places n and uzi at similar ages:

this theory has two versions, depending on the gap in the timeline of events between the core collapse and the disassembly drones arrival. first, the larger amount of time between these two events. the core of copper-9 collapses, nuclear winter ensues, all humans on the planet die, etc. etc. khan is one of the worker drones who defect from humans and begins to try to start his own life. nori, after being trapped in cavin fever labs and being experimented on and gaining the absolute solver, escapes with yeva. they meet as camp 98.7, fall in love, and move into a deserted human bunker with some other families and start a sort of civilization. they have uzi, but nori begins getting visions of the future- khans line in episode 4 about nori at the beginning, "she was always all: 'build doors against the coming sky demons!' 'the singularity awakens.' 'look at this cool s i can draw!'." nori tells khan to build doors, as in, on the existing bunker, not build the bunker.

uzi grows up to be about 19-20 when the events of the series play out, (the ages of kids her age from other bunkers on missing posters in episode 3 at the very beginning) you know the rest. this probably means that living under the ice in the bunker is just how she grew up, but the disassembly drones are a threat that appeared in her lifetime and killed her mother, presumably before she was a fully functional worker drone and still one of the smaller round baby drones (??? i dunno what to call them) this WOULD explain why she doesnt remember nori much but this always confused me because theyre robots??? they literally cannot forget unless they manually delete something from themselves??? actually thats probably a lore thing. whatever it doesnt matter for this theory. ANYWAYS, a big thing that i see people miss is that if disassembly drones have been alive long enough to kill nori, they have really barely gone through changes like the workers do as they "grow up". its understandable that they were just made to kill and didnt really need it, but this still places them at a much younger age than they look or are in the series. this means that uzi and n can be very close to the same age, even if they dont look it. im not sure if n v and j were just like actually pretty short because in the pilot opening sequence we never see the disassembly and worker drones in a same frame good enough to compare or if there was to change at all.

just really short disassembly drones is kinda a funny thought though lol

option two, which i find less likely but also more interesting, is very similar, but instead of after the core collapse, nori and khan meet BEFORE it. maybe khan defects from the company??? nori and yeva are able to escape??? idk if that could even happen or where i was going with this everything else is basically the same but uhh its a cool thought right

in conclusion: people who think nuzi is a proship what the fuck are you doing

thank you for coming to my tedtalk

#n x uzi #uzi x n #nuzi #murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #“nUzI iS a PrOsHiP” fuck you i just disproved your thing haha #i cant stop thinking about really short v n and j HAHAAH

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masterfvck · 1 month

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can you write something about sanayeon? (i think its nayeons and sanas ship name but im not sure lmao) need them so bad like i can imagine nayeon being all like "im the top in the relationship" to the public but in private sana bends her over an table and fucks her <333

Yes! It's finally done after my Very long time of no motivation burnout era 💥 I hope it was worth the wait 😭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 (𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧.)

Sanayeon (Sana + Nayeon, TWICE)

Cws: Top Sana obv, Sub Nayeon (also obv), slight begging :o, dirty talk(I tried?!), cunnilingus, fingering.

Lmk if I missed something!

Word count: 1.3k

(NSFW, minors don't interact pleek)

There’s dead silence at the table right now. Not awkward, or full of tension - just comfortable silence as all the TWICE members sat there, on their phones.

“Guys, I’m clearly the top in the relationship, right?” Nayeon very suddenly says, which made at least two of them choke on their drinks. Well, now all the looks were on her.

What a strange thing to say, out of the blue.

That was Nayeon for ya!

“Uhh. No,” Jeongyeon deadpans, which resulted in Nayeon trying to hit her. She was stopped by the others. “Hey! It’s true! You’re not a top-”

“Okay, Jeongyeon. We get it. Nayeon’s a bottom,” joins in Jihyo.

“I’m not!”

“You are.”

“Not!”

“Are too.”

“Am NOT!!”

“A-”

Chaeyoung cuts them off before any of the two can say any more. “Shut it! She might be, she might not.”

Both Jeongyeon and Nayeon grumble.

“Well, let’s ask Sana. She’s Nayeon’s girlfriend, after all,” Momo stated, and suddenly all eyes were on Sana.

She didn’t really know what to say - not right now, at least - the pressure of all members staring expectantly at her didn’t really help. “... What?”

“Well? Nayeon’s a fucking bottom, ri-” Nayeon groans. “Shut up!” she interjected.

“I mean… Maybe.” Sana holds back a grin and leans in her seat, putting on a nonchalant cover. Only to tease Nayeon - what else? - and it seemed to work.

“Hey!” She whined.

Chuckles were heard from pretty much everyone in the room.

“There’s still a chance, though. I feel like they could both be switches. It’s… none of my business, though. That’s all I have to say,” Tzuyu noted quietly. “The impossible is possible.”

There was a small moment of silence, and Nayeon smirked. “See? Someone agrees.”

“I never said I agreed, Unnie.”

Her smirk instantly faded. “Wha-”

“Heyy, look at the time. I’m hungry. Goodbye everyone!” Dahyun laughs nervously and scurries off before anyone can stop her. Seems like the tension was too much for her to handle second-hand. Chaeyoung decided to go after her, not saying anything else.

Sana looks around at the others. Is this a scenario where everyone just leaves suddenly, and only her and Nayeon are left? No way, that would be too pr-

“Uh.”

So maybe Sana was wrong.

It wasn’t long until Nayeon was bent over the table, squirming and whining underneath Sana. Yeah, the table was probably not the best place to do this, honestly. But she couldn’t resist the urge to just push her over right there and then and show her who’s really the top in this. Nayeon couldn’t resist Sana. Is anyone really surprised?

As Nayeon holds onto the table for dear life, she grinds her hips back against Sana - or Sana’s hand, in this case - and moans quietly.

Sana finds this a bit amusing.

“What happened to this whole I’m the top attitude from barely five minutes ago?” She laughed, curling her fingers at the spot Sana knew would make her arch her back like a cat.

And that was the exact reaction she got, as well. Nayeon cursed under her breath, tilting her head back.

“I didn’t-” she trails off.

“You can’t even finish your sentence properly. You couldn’t top me if you tried, admit it. Just look at how you’re grinding against me for more - you’re so desperate.” Sana’s words really didn’t help Nayeon in any way. If anything, it made her crave for even more now.

Nayeon gulped audibly, feeling her climax approaching slowly as Sana moved her fingers skillfully inside her. It was so good, almost too good. She couldn’t get enough.

And she couldn’t deny Sana, she was right. Nayeon couldn’t top her if she tried. She can barely speak right now.

“Are you close already?” Sana asked. Nayeon knew she shouldn’t have answered, but she nodded and let out soft breaths and moans.

She should have stayed still.

Because, at the words, Sana grinned and took her fingers out, ruining her approaching orgasm.

Fuck.

“N-Noooo…” Nayeon whined, head flopping back onto the table as she groaned.

Sana laughed a little at the sight.

“You’re adorable, really,” she cooed and held her waist, flipping her around. Her arms slowly guided her to sit on the table. Her wetness probably covered the table’s surface, but neither of them cared at this point. They’d just clean it after.

Sana lowered herself, kneeling on the ground and spreading Nayeon’s legs with no resistance coming from the older woman. She was even eager.

She approached her pussy painfully slowly, making Nayeon impatient.

“Please,” she whined. Sana smirked and chuckled a little at the sound. Begging now?

“Please what?” She murmured against the skin of her inner thighs.

“Please me. I-I need you.” And that was all Sana needed to hear.

She pressed a sloppy kiss to her clit first, which made Nayeon shudder and reach to hold her head. She didn’t complain - it felt somehow nice.

The kisses moved down her lips, tongue teasingly sticking out at her entrance, licking stripes up and down. She was practically turning Nayeon into a pile of mush for her. Her mind was so hazy, she felt almost dizzy. Her hand still held Sana’s head tightly and kept it against her as Sana herself held Nayeon’s thighs she loved so much. (Well, to be fair, Sana loves every part of Nayeon a lot.)

Nayeon barely mumbled out small “thank you”s as Sana worked her tongue on her, savoring the taste of her wetness. It was one sloppy mess, but at least it was a tasty sloppy mess.

The feeling of Sana’s tongue hitting her clit made Nayeon shudder even harder every time she did so. She wasn't even just eating her out at this point - she was devouring her like she's been starving for weeks. Her knees would definitely be hurting after this. She didn't care, it was worth it.

Sana’s grip on Nayeon’s thighs tightened a little and she started sucking on her clit eagerly.

“Hhngh- Ah,” Nayeon moaned out loud, feeling her orgasm approaching even more, muscles clenching under Sana’s touch.

With a few more licks and some grinding against Sana’s face, Nayeon came. Hard. She gasped for air, riding her orgasm out as she still held the back of Sana’s head against her.

“Ffuck…” She huffed out and let Sana pull away, breathless and covered in Nayeon's own wetness. She had a usual grin on her face.

She brought her closer, enveloping them into a kiss. Nayeon tasted herself on Sana's lips, but she didn't mind it. In fact, a part of her even enjoyed it.

They pulled away after a bit, just staring at each other for a bit.

“... Did you really think you were the top here?” Sana asked, finally.

“Nah.”

“Knew it,” she laughed out and pecked her lips. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

At dinner, they all sit at that same table.

First, there's some talking. Then Sana and Nayeon walk in together, hand in hand then taking their seats.

Everyone stares at them like they're about to get interrogated by the police.

It feels awkward… and the silence does not help one bit.

“... Guys, you cleaned the table, right?” Momo asked, finally.

There's no denying it, honestly. Sana wasn't even embarrassed one bit.

Nayeon was, though. Her face was flushed a deep red from embarrassment. Almost deeper than earlier when Sana was eating her out on this same table.

“Of course we did. We might be horny, we aren't gross-”

“Sana!” Nayeon nudged the girl’s shoulder.

“What? I'm telling the truth…” Despite the pouty look on her face, Sana chuckled.

Jeongyeon decided to interrupt them.

Probably in the worst (or best) way possible.

“... I knew Nayeon was a bottom-”

“YOO JEONGYEON I SWEA-”

Rest in peace Yoo Jeongyeon. We’ll miss you! (Except Nayeon, maybe.)

#sharpie fics #for once?!#sanayeon #two sharpies #twice #twice smut #sana #nayeon #sana smut #nayeon smut #kpop smut #kpop gg #LET'S GO I WROTE SOMETHING

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writermask-0807 · 1 month

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bakugo katsuki x reader

A/N: omg this took way too long 😭😭 but-

for my loyal follower, nunezs-stuff!! sorry for the delay, and I hope that I've done your request justice. Also, once again, I might not have all of your oc's personality quirks, but i did try. Thank you for requesting, Hope you enjoy!

Warnings:

wayyy too long for some hcs, ooc bakugo, lowkey aggressive bakugo (he should be a warning himself lol), swearing (cus it's bakugo, duh), I wrote kianna using ‘you’ since it wasn’t specified. kianna's eating disorder is also included, and im not sure if i depicted it correctly, but i tried my best!! hope not to offend anyone, haha uhh that's pretty much it, ig. Oh, and this one is for bakugo only, sorry, but I'm currently working on the others- they'll be out in a while. Lmk if I missed anything else!!

bakugo katsuki, who meets you at the entrance exams, and, initially, regards your existence with indifference, since he’s already fuming, hands sparking with flames - all he’s thinking about is the sheer audacity of that bastard deku to even think about coming here, and how he’s gonna pummel him into the ground!!

*ehem*

so he’s honestly taken aback by your display of strength in the exams; he hadn’t paid much attention to you, yeah, but you sure didn’t look strong from how much he knew

either way, he’s intrigued - and almost immediately regards you as a new rival, and he expresses it in the only way he knows how to

“oi ya damn nerd! you must think highly of yourself, flexing your quirk like that!”

cue you turning to him with blank eyes

you shake his hand off your shoulder, looking unimpressed, even - bored

and almost immediately you piss him off with that - that expression of yours

there’s just something about it - something about that eerie emptiness in your eyes that sets him off, but bakugo’s determined and he isn’t going to let you off the hook so easily

so the both of you form a weird kind of rivalry/friendship into the first year of u.a that he definitely won’t admit is kind of nice

because with you, even with your blunt words and sharp eyes, you stick around when so many others have left him behind

and he can’t entirely blame them, selfish as he is

and it’s hard at first, because he’s more prone to blasting you with his quirk than ever having a *cough* normal *cough* conversation with you, but you’re just as stubborn as him, if not more

and you don’t take his shit either - returning his sneers and snide remarks with leers and barbs of your own

and you’re annoying, sure, always so goddamn blunt and straightforward, constantly on his heels like some kind of damn insect he can’t get rid of, but your company is nice from time to time (though he’ll never tell that straight to your face in a thousand years)

and bakugo just doesn’t get it at first

he knows he’s not the ideal friend (are you even… ‘friends’?); he’ll say shit that hits right where it hurts, does stupid shit that he doesn’t actually really mean

but you stick around and he learns to tolerate you and despite your arguments that are really just banter at this point, you look out for him and so does he, and… that’s kind of it, he supposes

and he doesn’t know how it has evolved to this - but he quickly learns to read between your insults and find the grudging compliment, he learns to see the embarrassed red in the tips of your ears when your face remains blank

he begrudgingly learns your likes and dislikes (though not on his own will), and so whenever he visits a store, he finds his eyes catching over the things you’d like, and for some godforsaken reason, ends up buying them for you

shoves it in your arms with a furious flush on his face and some lame excuse that you probably don’t believe but have the good graces not to point out

he learns that you can cook, and that it’s surprisingly good (again, he’ll never, ever admit it)

which is in anomaly in itself, and when he finds out, demands that you cook for him, claiming that he needs to taste how ‘bad’ his rival’s cooking is

you respond to this with a fond eye roll, and inform him that it’s definitely better than his, which riles him up, but then you end up cooking for him anyway

and, on a more intimate occasion, he learns that you can’t quite stomach the food you so meticulously make, and it pisses him off

of course, he knows it’s a disorder and that it can’t tackled by his sheer brashness alone

so he takes a more ‘subtler’ approach, if you can even call it that lol

ends up doing a ton of research; he starts with the little things, a slice of fruit here, a piece of fruit there- bakugo makes sure to periodically feed you small amounts of food because he takes notice that you can never really finish big meals

piles more food on your plate when he thinks you’re not looking

threatens you with smoking hands and an angry scowl (but he’s not angry, not really) to “eat more, damnit!” claiming that “you’ll be a scrawny little bastard forever so eat before i make you!”

(but thankfully, you don’t mind half as much as you’re amused)

comes ‘round to your room with tubs of your favorite foods that he claims he ‘accidentally’ made too much of (it’s a literal feast, btw)

watches you intently to make sure you’re actually eating, and when you tell him, quite bluntly, that he looks like a creep with a weird fetish of watching ppl eat, he tells you to “fuck off!” in no less indignant terms

continues to watch you like a hawk anyway lmao

(he catches you smiling, makes a whole fuss about it, and the both of you end up brawling it out, food promptly forgotten)

and so in the midst of this grudging rivalry-that’s-actually-really-friendship, it takes bakugo a painfully, painfully long time to realize

he likes you

no, no, no- he actually, really really really likes you

and it hits him like a ton of bricks after kamino

he’d came back as haunted and withdrawn as a ghost, and he’d pushed everyone away, all angry sneers and bared teeth and growling voice

but you’d stayed

you didn’t flinch away from his fury and his hurt and his screaming anguish - you’d welcomed it with open arms, quite literally

you’d forced his thrashing body into a tight hug, clamped your arms around until he’d stopped protesting and just collapsed onto you, sobbing his heart out, a crying, shaking mess

you were uncharacteristically gentle, soothing his cries with a hand carding through his damp hair and lips pressed his temple, his forehead, his cheeks, his fluttering eyelids

and it’s there, slumped boneless in your arms, voice hoarse from screaming himself raw and eyes red and puffy, too tired for his pride to protest, that bakugo - finally, after a stupidly long time - realizes

oh shit. i’m in love.

and he’s pretty sure you know, too

and so there’s no confessions, no fireworks or the sudden coming of spring to mark the start of something wonderful (but it is wonderful); it just sort of… happens

and so nothing changes- not really

you still argue over every little thing, and he still brings food ‘round to your room and you still spend time together doing study sessions;

except nowadays whenever you reach out to tug

at his hair out of eventual annoyance whenever you fight, a stupid lovesick blush rushes to his cheeks, no matter how hard he tries to snuff it out

and you accept his dishes with a faint smile that definitely doesn’t make him swoon

and the study sessions have turned to study dates that he really just spends admiring every flutter of your lashes and the light to your eyes whenever you get an equation right; wondering at the soft round of your cheeks that crinkle with your smiling dimples (that rarely stay long enough for him to catch), and the sweet curve of your mouth that lifts, just barely, into a gentle smile

and so with you and bakugo, it’s a learning kind of love; the kind that teaches you the ups and downs of life, the kind that hurts in the best sort of way

because it’s with you that bakugo learns how to trust and be trusted

(because what else was it when he showed him all your scars and your bruises, what else was it when you bared yourself inside out for him, the good and the bad, the flaws and perfection, and he for you?)

and it’s with you that bakugo learns to love and be loved, the soft gentle kind he’d thought to be so weak before, but - well

it’s not so bad after all. is it now?

#answered request!!#thank you for requesting!!!#bakugo katsuki x reader #reader x bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki x y/n #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #hcs #bakugo x you #mha #bnha #mha x you #bnha x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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nailtagyuri · 10 months

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Just Not's Burger King Bonanza

fics done! ao3 is cyberbullying me specifically so im posting it under cut until they reopen account registrations ^_^ [EDIT THEY DID YOU CAN CHECK IT OUT HERE GO GO GO!!] thanks to @/klonoadoortophantomile for reading the initial drafts!

If you need something here tagged as a trigger warning, please contact me via ask! This fic contains depictions of real life political figures, occasional graphic violence, and YURI!!! *thunder clap*

Morning descended upon the bathrooms-turned-hotel where TPOT was once held. The sun shone over the horizon and its light crept through the dust-covered windows, into the already noisy cafeteria smack-bang at the bottom of the tall building. Even if Two's "mandatory mealtimes" had ended along with the gameshow itself, the cafeteria still flourished as a regular gathering area for social interaction, at least to those who could manage a consistent sleep schedule.

Price Tag spotted their designated black and yellow table, where they always sat along with the rest of team-turned-friend group Just Not. They walked up to it, quietly asking Cake if he could move so they could take the window seat. He obliged. He knew Taggy liked absorbing the sunlight.

They :]'d comfortably as they eyed their companions. Book, Nickel, Cake and Bomby were eating with them this morning. Naily was still in bed and Pillow was probably also asleep, what with the obvious. They were glad the two had more time to rest than when they had things to wake up for, but a part of them missed the way Naily would sleepily stumble towards their table each morning, mumbling sweet incomprehensibles as she shuffled next to them and lazily rested on their "shoulder". Oh, how she struggled to stay awake in the brief moment before she guzzled down her dangerously acidic energy drink and shot straight up, bright and alert. But enough about her. They could talk to her later.

"So," Taggy perked, "What's been up with all of you?" "Crunklybrunkly zooper dooper," Nickel groaned, "don't even get me STARTED on this horrid excuse for a foodish substance." Price Tag saw Two cover their mouth with their paws from the other side of the room. They seemed extremely hurt. Nobody audibly got Nickel started but he kept complaining anyway. "Like, what's it supposed to be, melted yoylemetal?" He poked his dish, a gray, gelatinous, rectangular blob. It jiggled against his fork.

"I'd say it's Tofu," Book proposed as she took a bite of her salad. "Black bean. It's a bit gray, though. You should try it, anyway, if you want." "They don't call it gray bean, Book." Nickel rolled his eyes, sarcastically. Cake slid in. "You feeling alright, Nickel? You're not usually this grumpy." "WRONG ONE!?" Shouted Bomby, who gripped his head with his hands in sudden fright. "No, no, I'm not an impostor, I swear!" Nickel replied. "Ugh, sorry everyone. Just I wish the stuff we ate was… fine-er. The food Two makes is kinda mid."

"THE FOOD I MAKE FOR FREE, NICKEL?!" Two boomed from next to him. Nickel fell back in his seat, startled. His foot slammed his plate, launching the substance high into the air and directly onto his face. Everyone stopped for a moment to process what had happened. "Oh golly!" Book cried. "Your tofu…" "Uhh, ground sevruga, actually," Two corrected, raising their finger up nerdishly. "Only five spoons of one of the most expensive kinds of caviar on the market, condensed into a chunky rectangular delight and nuked in a microwave for 62 seconds. Better learn to eat it up, Nickel, the black sea can't provide these delicious tastes forever!" They walked away, smugly.

There was a brief silence, aside from Nickel's slurping. Taggy raised an eyebrow, astounded that a simple 'hello' could lead to such malarkey. "The heck did any of that mean?" They exclaimed. "Any of what mean?" Naily perked her lips to imitate Taggy's ,':{ as she walked up to the table. Upon seeing her, Price Tag's confused expression quickly morphed into a joyous :3. They felt their string begin to wag in excitement. It unconsciously thumped against the empty spot next to them repeatedly as if to gesture where she should sit.

Naily saw this and laughed. "Oh wow, so many choices," she teased. "I can barely decide." She crouched down before launching herself into a frontflip, barreling over the table and stabbing clean into her designated spot. "Nailed it!" She shouted, triumphantly. The rest at the table clapped. She pulled herself out and quickly grabbed her meal the others had been saving for her, unwrapping it hungrily and biting into it without thinking to take off the pickles. It was a cheeseburger, its buns dyed such an eye-burning tone of hot pink Taggy wondered how they hadn't lost sight just looking at it. Naily called it the 'Girlburger'. "But really," Naily asked as she took another bite, "what's going on, buddy? I heard someone scream from upstairs."

They turned to her slightly and explained what had happened. "I don't even know what cabby car is!" Nickel exclaimed through his loaf. "Hmm…" Naily put a paw on her chin thoughtfully, taking in all the information. "I think…" she spoke in a hushed tone, widening her eyes. The others moved in. "it's from the viewers' world."

Everyone gasped. Nobody among them had eaten food from, let alone seen the viewers' world in person before. Only Teardrop had gone when she was sent for a challenge, and they were extremely hesitant to discuss her findings. "That's nonsense!" Book cried. "Sorry, I mean… Naily, Two's a really thoughtful host, but are you sure they'd venture out to such uncharted lands just to make breakfast for Nickel, of all people?" Naily shrugged. "Yeah." "It'd make sense," Taggy chimed in. "They still have some of their limitless power, right? If they used it to easily come here from their home planet, maybe they could easily go from here to the viewers' world."

"Yeah!" Supported Cake. "Maybe they just like to travel, and that was, like, a souvenir." Nickel sat up. "Why don't we go there?" He asked, casually. "Y'know, see more food like this. It'd be a nice change of pace from all the Dragons and Dragons and Dragons campaigns." "You mean you liked it?" Asked Book. "Oh no, it was disgusting." He replied. "I just want more of it." "Oh. Well, that's a bit of a strange mentality- wha, wait a minute! We can't go! Are you insane?! We don't know what's out there!" She grabbed Nickel out of fear. "Well if Two can make it back in one piece," grinned Naily as she stood on the table, "then so can we, the 7th greatest team this side of Goiky! And I think I know just the guy who can help us…"

"I can't help you." Said Winner, dryly. "L." Shouted Price Tag, making a >:L. Naily grew upset. "But Winner, you're the only one with limitless power who isn't mad at us!" She pleaded. "Dontcha have a heart?" Winner frowned, slightly. She was right. Winner, after defeating Marker in a rather anti-climatic boxing match, had prophetically won the Power of Two and subsequently the grand prize. Being carried episode after episode through their loyal voterbase was a kind gesture, they knew that. If everyone was that nice, surely they'd be nice enough to not instantly kill a whole team with a woodchipper, right?

The thought of woodchippers reminded them of the British Exterminator Incident of '24, and they cringed. They shook their head. "I'm sorry, guys, it's dangerous territory out there, and I don't think you'd all fare well with that kind of responsibility. There's a good chance that if I let you lot go, you won't come back." They put their arm on their hip and closed their eyes affirmitively. Most of the group groaned. "THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!" Cried Book.

Taggy slid up to them. "C'mon, Winner, ol' buddy, ol' pal, ol' winner winner chicken dinner, you know I'd give you that kinda freedom if I were in your shoes!" "No you wouldn't." "Fair enough," they turned around and walked off. "THINK OF ALL THE FOOD!" Bomby cried. Nickel's eyes lit up. "Yeah!" He perked, as he scooched up to the defiant Winner. "Maybe they even have… purple tomatoes." Winner opened one eye. "The kind Two made for me back in the first episode?" They whispered. Nickel looked away playfully. "Perhaps."

Outside the hotel, Winner prepared to open a portal, waving their hand around slowly. "You guys owe me a real one." They said. "I'd get into a lot of trouble if Two found out I were using their powers to do this kinda stuff." Nickel got goosebumps. He and Two already weren't on good terms. "Oh, Winner, I'm sure we'll be okay!" Assured Cake. "So long as we don't, y'know… get lost. Or killed." Winner frowned. "Cake, you're a sweet guy, you don't have to be a part of this." He blushed slightly at the compliment. "No, no, really, we'll be fine! Book already told me all about how she escaped Evil Leafy, this should be no problem for her. Right, Book?" He turned to face her.

"Yeah, you could say so…" Book rubbed her arm nervously. Memories of her antics inside Evil Leafy were fuzzy after the 53rd puzzle or so, but from what she could recall she wasn't nearly as careful as Cake thought. Pits of spike and lava layered every corner of the dungeon and each obstacle grew more and more difficult for her to avoid; gruesome ends and embarrassing slip-ups were all too common and death became expected rather than feared, but at least back there she had some form of recovery. Who knew what this higher realm had to offer?

Winner shut their eyes as they began to conjure up the portal. Sparks flickered on their fingers as they moved hypnotically, a bright ball of energy starting to form on their rippling palm, flashing green and purple rapidly as it grew in size. The others looked on in amazement, gazing into the light as if they were challenging God to a staring contest. Naily, failing to break her stare, shuffled up on top of Bomby to cover up his fuse with her paws, in case a rogue flare set it on fire and blew him up. Besides the obvious, the last thing they needed was a loud explosion to draw attention to themselves, as if the electric crackling wasn't doing that already.

Winner clutched the ball with their fist. "So where are we going anyway?" Asked Nickel, choosing the worst time to ask a question. "Wh- I don't know!" Hissed Winner, hastily. "On the map, it looks kind of like a foot, if that helps!" They moved their arm back to aim. "You might wanna cover your ears…"

Two shuffled through their wardrobe, looking through their accessories before finding a large pink bow at the bottom of the pile. They brushed off the dust and slowly put it on, staring up at it to make sure it didn't fall. "How do I look?" They asked. Gaty finished her boba, slurping the contents at the bottom of the cup. "Absolutely fabulous," she complimented. "It suits you really well!" They smiled. Leave it to Gaty to give them a confidence boost. They sat down next to her, sipping their drink as they started to relax. "So what's been going on with Nickel?" Two groaned. "Ugh. It just feels like he doesn't care about all the effort I put in for everyone. He just casually criticizes my cooking like it's nothing, like I do it out of some sort of obligation! Like, I don't have to stay here, if I really didn't care I would've just up and left years ago! Why can't he see that?"

"Hmm." She thought for a moment. "Well, if I were you I'd show him the process of actually cooking the food rather than just giving it to him. It's easier for him to insult your creation because all he's seeing is the stuff on the plate, and not the hard work behind it, if that makes sense." Two swirled their tea like a wine glass. "Hmm… well, I guess it does. I'll see if it-"

The room suddenly shook violently, like a bomb had gone off and decimated one of the hotel's floors. The quaking lunged Two back in their seat, their drink splashing in their face and staining their bow. Whipped cream splutted like a cream pie in a circus act. "Oh shoot!" Gaty exclaimed. She stood up, hastily opening the closet. "You want me to grab a cloth, or some paper towels, or somethi-" She stopped when she turned back to look at them. She didn't know if their face had turned red from the sprinkles or the unbridled anger burning within them. It wouldn't take long for her to find out.

Winner stared at the portal, eyeing it to make sure everybody would fit, before hearing a flurry of muffled yet very loud curses from upstairs. "That's not good."

"RUN!" Shrieked Naily, speeding into the portal like a mouse into a hole. Taggy followed suit, then Nickel, then Bomby, then Cake. Book trailed last but stopped inches away from the portal, still extremely hesitant. "I-I can't decide! It just doesn't feel right yet!" Winner telekenetically floated some parts toward them. "Well you're gonna have to be quick if you wanna join the other five, I need to cover this up!" Book stared back at the deep, whirling maw before her… wait, did they say other five? There weren't only five other people on Just Not!

"PILLOW!" Cried Book. She'd forgotten all about her! Her heart sank. Pillow was already a hazard with her teammates around, who knows what would happen if she were left alone? She ran back up to Winner. "Winner I need you to throw me up to Pillow's room so I can take her with me!" "Huh? Book, I really don't have the time…" "You have to! Th- the lives of the contestants are at stake!" "…Book, are you going to go or-" "THROW ME!" She snapped, overpowering anything Winner had said or would say.

Book barrelled through the window into Pillow's room. Her eyes dashed around the pastel walls and contrastingly bloody splatters before spotting her, to her left. She appeared to be polishing an inanimate object of some kind. "Pillow, you have to co-" "I don't have a weapon," Pillow said, calmly. She snuck whatever she had in her sheets before turning around, giving a suspiciously contented smile. Book stared. "…Uh huh. Pillow, you have to come with me!" She grabbed her and leapt back out the window, instantly regretting not thinking things through. "Are we playing Yoylebungee again?" Asked Pillow, naively. "You forgot the rope." Book screamed her lungs out as the two fell down, down, down… Winner rushed to catch them both in their hand, throwing them in the portal just in time for them to close it off.

Two stomped around the corner. "WHAT IS GOING ON- Oh." They stopped in their tracks when they saw Winner, resting their arm against a vending machine shakily. The discomfort in their wide, crooked smile could be seen from a mile away. It created an uncomfortable vibe topped off by their worried, dilating eyes and furrowing brows. The air whistled between the two for a good few seconds, leaving silence so loud you could hear their muscles contract.

"Oh, hey Two, didn't see you there," Winner spoke hastily as they paced toward them, "sorry if I made a racket, darn vending machines stealing your money, rah! rah! rah! Really tests your temper, don't it?" They nudged the number slightly with their hand, "Hahaha, I suppose you'll be leaving now." Two waved their hands in front of them. "Wait wait wait, it stole your money?" They noted. Winner's pupils shrunk. "Oh, uhh, Two, you really don't have to-" "Well why didn't you just say something? I'd be happy to help you get it back!" Before they could get a sentence out, Two was already inspecting the vending machine for issues. "Let's see here… ew, five dollars for vanilla Dr. Fizz?" They rolled their eyes. "Stop." Winner cringed. When this was over they were gonna be owed enough favors to speedrun ten birthdays.

Book felt her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur, her surroundings morphing into an abstract mush of colors and simple shapes. Her head was swimming in a pool of nausea and stress. Had it been a dream? Could all this talk of portals and higher worlds be blamed on unconscious neurons firing alone? Naily stood over her, frowning worriedly. "Gee whiz, are you okay?" Book groaned as she slowly rubbed her temple with her paws. Her head throbbed against their eyes so much she felt like they were going to pop out. Pillow rushed over to her. "Perhaps she's dead. Book, are you dead? Say 'yes' if you're dead." Book sat up, mumbling to herself. "AH! ZOMBIE!" Cried Bomby, as he grabbed a rusty hammer from beside him and swung hysterically. "ZOMBIEEEEEEEE!"

"BOMBY I'M ALIVE!" Shrieked Book, widening her eyes. She slumped over, eyelids squinting as she blinked repeatedly. "I'm alive," she clarified. "I'm awake… where are we?" Cake looked around. The seven were surrounded by large, worn-down buildings, covered with graffiti and offensive etchings. An opening in front of them gave way to what looked like a street; that and the blisteringly bright sun above them were the only sources of light in what was otherwise a dark open tunnel. He certainly didn't want to be here at night. "Looks like…" "It's an alleyway." Pillow interrupted. "I didn't know we were going to the real world." Book stood up. "No, the real world is back- whatever. We've seen it. Can we go home now?!" "What? No way!" Nickel perked. "We only just got here, let's have a look around!"

NO!" She shouted. "Err, uhh, I mean, what about all the fun things we can do here in the alleyway? Like calculating the total worth of all of its many things!" "Three dollars," answered Price Tag, who represented the value on their face. "Hahahaha, that helps!" Book lied, glaring at them. "or, we could play Interdimensional Red Rover! I'll start." She made a mad dash for the portal, speeding forward and crashing into the back of a machine.

Book felt her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur, her surroundings morphing into an abstract mush of colors and simple shapes.

Pillow was quick to interrupt her reverie, grabbing her and flipping her back into a standing position. "That's better," she hummed. Book was dazed but at least she was still conscious. "Urgh… Wait, what am I still doing here!?" She cried as her gaze met the portal. She fixated particularly on the giant contraption blocking her path. "Wh- what's THAT doing here?! Why is this happening!?"

"Your companions probably punished you for not following the rules," Pillow assumed. "They didn't even call you on over." "They didn't even call her on over," Naily whispered to Taggy. She walked up to the portal and threw a lone pebble at it. It banged off the back of the machine and flew threw a window. "Yup, that's blocking us off alright." "So we're trapped?!" Cake yelped, fearfully. Price Tag attempted to comfort him. "Aww, don't say that, Cake! I'd say it's more like very heavy encouragement to stay." "That's all we really can do, isn't it…" Cake conceded.

The group was silent for a moment. "Well…" Naily lingered as she raised a paw. "The only missed shot you can shoot is an unshooted shot, ain't it?" She started walking off, Price Tag following close behind. The others shrugged, following in her footsteps. Book was so distracted trying to interpret Naily's phrase that by the time she could muster up a response, she and the rest of the group had already left.

Book paced up to them, "Wait, you're all just leaving?" She cried. "You can't! Shouldn't you try and break the wall down, or something? We're gonna get lost!" "Don't worry, we'll go back," Price Tag assured. "We're just exploring first!" "No. Taggy, no! This isn't as simple as 'exploring', we have no idea what this place looks like, or where everything is, or how big everything is, if we lose sight of this alleyway we won't find our way back and we'll lose EVERYTHING! Cake, you just got back with Loser after years of not seeing each other and now you're willing to abandon him?!" The color began to drain from his face. Guilt began to wash over him. "Well…"

Naily stepped forward to interject. "Book, you couldn't even break it down with your full body weight. Would you rather invest all your time in a lost cause or use what time you have in this new world to take a risk? Look," she flipped Book open to tear off a blank page, "You can scribble important information down on this and when we find something that can break down the structure, we'll go back! It solves itself!" Book sighed as she rubbed her temple. If she was so sure... "I really hope you know what you're doing. Do you have a pen?"

Just Not walked casually through the street, Book sketching important details and sign names on her pages in case they got lost. Cake was quick to notice how uncanny all of this world's inhabitants looked: their faces had strange lumps beneath their mouths and eyes, and odd, patterned shapes on both sides of their heads. He assumed these were arms. Almost all of them towered over the group, some taller than Bomby and Book combined. Their eyes were rich with detail and color, almost all of them staring back at Cake with an atmosphere of judgement and suspicion.

He felt his cheeks turn pink. Did they hate him? Did he do something wrong? He'd clearly done something wrong. Why else would they keep looking at him?! "Looks like these guys haven't seen an object before," Naily hummed, derailing his train of thought. "Everyone looks so… same-ey." Nickel whispered. "How do they tell each other apart?" Cake sighed. At least his friends were somewhat on the same page, even if they didn't completely share his mindset.

"This place doesn't look like it has what we're looking for," observed Pillow. "Well maybe we just need to dive deeper!" Taggy eyed the crowd and picked whoever they thought was nicest. They scuttered up to them, making a ^.^ and striking a kind pose. "'Scuse me, sir! Me and my buddies were just looking for some caviar, and you look like the kinda guy who'd know their stuff about that."

"I don't," they replied, briskly. "Ah, well, we've all got room to learn. But could ya redirect us to someone who knows where we can find any? My gray weezerino over here could really go for some sevruga." They dragged Nickel towards them.

"Sevruga?" The man pondered. "Sounds Russian. You'll probably need a plane ticket, or something."

Nickel broke free from Taggy's grasp. "Does it cost money?" He said, playing along with Taggy's cool guy persona. "Because I happen to be pretty experienced in the field of things worth five cents or under, if you catch my drift."

The man was silent for a moment. "If you can't afford it, you can also drive," they muttered. "Through the sea. You'd have to hold your breath for a while, though."

Book cringed at the reminder. "Aaaaand that's where we'll end things for now! Thanks anyway!" She nudged Nickel, cueing everyone to speedwalk away.

The man was left with his thoughts. His inner monologue began to scold him. "Damn it, Barack, you should've gone with them. They seemed nice, even if they were cosplaying as random objects." He sighed as he pulled out a special red, white and blue senzu bean. You'd think a former president, let alone a Saiyan, would be better at talking to people, but here he was. Alone, and about as awkward as a worm in a spider club. "What an Obummer," he mumbled as he popped it in his mouth, letting the chemicals and sudden nutrition wash the regret and loneliness away.

Just Not walked for what seemed like ages, the ever-expanding list of turns, streets and stops growing harder and harder for Book to remember. Whatever part of the journey they were up to now, it certainly didn't look like the beginning. Most of the buildings now were more than two hotels high, a far cry from the quaint forts just a couple blocks back.

Book wondered if her team were actually serious about walking all the way out to the ocean just so they could go to this "Russia" place. Finally having enough, she decided to speak up. "Hey, guys, uhh… are we going to do anything other than walking while we're here?"

Pillow looked around, before catching something in the glimpse of her eye. "We can drive!" She chirped, pointing off to the distance. The others looked: a large, black vehicle stood before them. It was chunky, sleek, and surely big enough to fit everyone. It led a trail of multiple similar cars, all empty and parked in front of a beautiful hotel, one of the tallest in the street.

Book groaned. She had to start wording things better.

Price Tag inspected the vehicle. "Hmmm… doesn't look very seaworthy." "Plus, if we're going to steal it," Naily lowered her voice to a whisper, "we'd have to take out the guards first."

She pointed to two flags, waving proudly on the front end of the van. Nobody recognized either of them. Naily winked at Bomby, who raised a hand, gesturing everyone to stand back. The others were still, as he breathed in. He leapt forth, landing quietly in front of the trunk, before wiggling his fingers and slicing them through both flagpoles at once. The flags slid clean off, landing in his palms.

"THAT SHOULD BE BOTH OF THEM," He shrilled.

The others were impressed. Naily cheered eccentrically, whistling and wooing loudly like she'd just seen pigs fly. "Wasn't that the coolest thing you've ever seen!?" She yelled. "Alright, now let's get in the car!"

Everyone obliged, Naily hastily shuffling into the driver's seat and grabbing onto the wheel. "Oh, uhh, Naily, I think it would be better if I drive this time." Book cautioned, eyeing the pawless pedals. "Why's that?" Naily responded, smiling at her mindlessly. "Oh, it's just, y'know, I have…" She stopped herself before she could say "arms". She remembered a late night bar conversation she had with a very drunk Snowball, who was unfortunate enough to bring up that subject around her.

"It was terrifying," he moped as he chugged down another shot glass. "All I wanted was to join her team. I was nice. I did nothing wrong. I told them they seemed like nice people, even if they were weak and armless." His eyes widened with sorrow as they stared off into space. The memories hit him like a shovel, jabbing into the nerves of his emotions and digging tears out of his cold, almost dead eyes. "And then, out of nowhere…" He whined, his voice cracking in pitch. He turned to Book suddenly and grabbed her shoulders. "She owned me!" He cried, shaking her hysterically. Book could see the fear and vulnerability in his pupils as they dilated and shook. "She owned me! SHE OWNED ME! SHE OWNED ME, BOOK! I WAS OWNED! SHE OWNED ME!"

She didn't quite know what "owned" meant in this case, no matter how many times it was repeated. But if famous tough-guy Snowball was afraid to get on Naily's bad side, chances were Book should very much avoid that path as well.

"…a very strong drivers' spirit!" She finished. "Mine's stronger," Naily grinned. "C'mon, Price Tag, you take the pedals!" "On it!" They saluted, sitting comfortably beneath her. Book sighed as she moved to the back seat, while Bomby took passenger's. If anything went wrong she wouldn't be to blame.

After a bit of fumbling with the ignition and figuring out how four people would fit in two seats, the car started and the group were off. Nickel could barely make out someone glaring at them from inside the building, but he didn't care. This was a whole new experience for him! He shuffled his feet, making sure that they didn't damage Cake's frosting as he sat on top of him.

Book, meanwhile, sat directly in front of Pillow, whose arms wrapped around her in a spooning position. Pillow, ironically, was very passionate about keeping herself safe. She was the only one in the car, aside from Cake, who had strapped themselves in, and had even encouraged Book to share the seatbelt with her. She denied, nonetheless. She didn't need it on such a casual drive, and would hate to make either of them uncomfortable with a tight squeeze.

Naily stared at all the viewers, and they stared back. They'd been doing that a lot, hadn't they? Was it the van this time? She couldn't understand why it'd be such a spectacle to them, what with its all black coloring and rather uninteresting interior. Perhaps these viewers were just very easy to excite. Their brains would probably implode if they saw something with as much visual noise as the Freesmart Supervan, she thought.

Her brows quickly furrowed into a frown when she saw a series of billboards looming over the rest of the town. They all had the same image plastered over them: a creature, presumably a viewer, smiling smugly at the camera, in a confident, commanding pose. Underneath them, a series of stripes and a string of bolded, instructional text:

"Vote Ron DeSantis for presidential reelection, November 2028. A stronger government, a stronger America."

Naily scoffed. She hadn't even made it past her own team's first elimination, and here this guy was, plastering their mug everywhere trying to get people to vote for them twice? As if one victory wasn't enough? Something about it made her blood boil. It wasn't like their silly campaign would even work, anyway, none of the billboards even had letters or square brackets.

She saw some viewers in blue uniforms ripping a much smaller poster off a building: it had similar messaging, but the colors and figure looked different. Most likely it was endorsing someone else, encouraging viewers to vote for an opponent or a teammate. The blue uniformed viewers tore it off, ripping it to bits, before throwing what was left on the ground.

Whoever these contestants were the prize they were battling for must've been really elusive if it meant they were willing to hire their own personal goons. What prize could somehow be more enticing than limitless power? Why were these people so desperate to win it? Just a viewer thing, she guessed. As if object traditions were any less weird.

"So what do you all wanna do first?" Nickel inquired. "Ooh, let's see if they have a beauty salon!" Taggy smirked. "I'd personally LOVE to get my nails done." "That's funny," said Naily. "Thank you. But really, wasn't the plan to get something to eat?" "Didn't you hear the guy before?" Cake butted in. "The caviar we're looking for is probably 2763 canals away." "That doesn't mean we can't try something else!" Nickel replied. "Yeah! Let's see if they have any cool restaurants 'round here." As if on cue, Pillow looked out the window, immediately noticing a sign that stood out from the others. "How does Burger King sound?"

The rest of her team turned their attention to the restaurant. The bright and colorful branding of the logo enticed all of them. The word "burger" implied food, meat. A meal they could all share; the word "king" implied either medieval decadence or supremacy, as if the cooks here were the metaphorical kings of all burgers, delivering quality unmatched by any other chain.

"Don't mind if I do," Naily muttered under her breath as she turned the car around and moved into the Drive Thru. She knew how this kind of thing worked from her team's many late night visits to Gelatin's Steakhouse, but the experience of being in the driver's seat for once was almost surreal in a way. "So what do you all want?" She asked, flinching at the unnatural feeling of those words spilling out of her own mouth.

One by one, everyone listed off what they wanted. Being the only photosynthetic creature among them, Price Tag jokingly asked for a torch.

Naily rolled down the window and forwarded the message to the speaker, whose gritty and bitcrushed voice directed them to the next window. She did so, reaching what appeared to be the restaurant's kitchen and playing Where's Woody with her order as she stared through the window.

"Oh, there's other cooks. Do you want me to take care of them?" Asked Pillow, innocently. "No, it's fine." Naily replied, not knowing exactly what that meant. She tapped the wheel mindlessly as boredom began to set in. The group was left in awkward silence for a brief moment. "Let's listen to some music!" Pillow chimed in, again. She shoved Book off her and reached into the front seat, clicking the radio on. The scratchy, radical voice echoed through the car's walls. "And next up on our totally tubular 2000s throwback, 'This is Such a Pity' by Weezer!"

Pillow appeared to recognize the name, and showing more emotion in that moment than throughout the rest of the trip, she frowned slightly and clicked the radio back off. "Silence also has its perks." As awkwardness descended upon the vehicle, each member of Just Not silently waited for another to speak up, spark a conversation and break the tension.

"How would we kiss?" Price Tag inquired.

Naily raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What? M…me?" "Yeah," They looked up at her and smiled casually. "How would we kiss?" "Uhhh…" She was confused more than anything. Hadn't she already kissed them plenty of times before? "You mean…" She moved to give Price Tag a casual yet loving smooch on their forehead. They chuckled as their face began to warm slightly. They didn't expect her to demonstrate, but weren't complaining. "Oh, nah, heheheh, I mean more…" Their voice grew quiet. "more deeper than that, if that makes sense."

"Oh." Naily's face lit up. "OH, you mean, like, you wanna make out? Like…" She looked out the window, then back to them. "…like now?" They silently nodded, making a bashful <:].

She frowned, sympathetically. "Oh, Taggy, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but you don't exactly have a… 'mouth' mouth, do you? There's not much for me to work with…" They matched their expression, a disappointed :(. She was correct. Price Tag did technically have a mouth but it lacked any depth and couldn't be used for anything other than talking and making faces. The closest thing they could get to tasting anything was their antennae, which they used to drink water and absorb light energy for nutrition. Using that would be unbelievably awkward, though…

"If there isn't a way," they technically lied, "can we at least pretend?" Naily smiled. That she could do. Turning them down at this point would just be cruel. "Oh, alright," she grinned, playfully rolling her eyes. "C'mere." She pulled Price Tag towards her for a kiss. They let out an adorable EEK! as their "lips" met Naily's.

Within seconds the LARP kissing session was in full swing, much to the chagrin of Nickel who looked on in partial disgust. Despite being on their team, he hadn't seen the two interact much, especially not with such blatant intimacy. "Ugh, somebody needs to get a room. Are they always like this?" He hissed to Bomby.

"YEP," he beamed. He could confirm what with how close the three had grown since Naily's return from years of separation. The long-distance relationship they were forced to adapt to after TPOT 5 didn't exactly scratch their mutual itch to be in each others arms. The current sight brought back a particularly pleasant memory from more recent times:

When the show ended and they finally had a chance to reunite, the three had all built up such a desire to give affection to one another that the first thing they did as soon as they made physical contact was hug for three straight days. Sometimes, Bomby would do some footwork, carrying them into their room and grabbing drinks or food, all while not breaking the hug of course. But for the most part, those blissful 75 hours were spent doing nothing but chatting, snuggling, relaxing, and watching random shows on TV. Oh, the way they all cackled watching the Exitors' real time fandubs and hilariously bad reruns of the Object Bang Theory…

Since that faithful day, one would rarely be seen without the two others. The closest they got to splitting was when they chose to sit at different tables, over an argument regarding how to spell fortnite, a period of two weeks, which was resolved later that morning. But aside from that, they were strung together like a sowed blanket. Or, rather, welded together like three small Lego pieces, pressed together with ease and virtually impossible to be separated from that point onward.

Naily slowly moved backwards as she stared into her lovers eyes. "You're so beautiful," she hummed. Price Tag chuckled sheepishly as their blush deepened, before gazing off to their left. "Naily…" "Yes, honey?" She pulled them closer. "She's here…" "Yeah, I'm here…" She wrapped her paws around them in a hug. "I'm so sorry I ever left you…" "No, I mean…" They frowned. "At the window. Our order's here." Naily looked to see someone with bags of food. "SHOOT!" She cried as she dropped Price Tag and scrambled to look natural. "We'll, uhh, be taking our food now, thanks!" She smirked, nervously.

The worker was uninterested. "Uh-huh," She muttered tiredly as she handed the bags of food over to her customer, who grabbed on to them with what she thought were really large gloves. She didn't know what it was with these kids and their weird ass fashion trends but at this point she was so exhausted that she couldn't bother to care. Working 16 straight hours without a wink of rest had taken its toll and all she wanted was to get this last bunch of customers over with so she could end her shift. "Will that be cash or credit?" She sighed.

Naily blinked. "What?" "Cash or credit?" The cashier repeated. "How are you going to pay for your order?" Nickel stood up and slid over to the front. "Oh, I think I see what this guy's deal is. Check this out!" He flopped face-first onto the counter. The cashier stared down at him, then up at Naily, who stared back with an inattentive grin. "…Is that a nickel?" The unamused cashier mumbled. "The one and only!" She confirmed. "Okay. This is five cents," she said, blankly. "Your order is $104.86." "Uhhh, actually it's worth much more than meets the eye!" Book interjected, trying to stop a conflict before it could begin. She scrambled to make something up, "It's a one of a kind, uhhh… Nicko…min…ator, the last of its species!"

"What? No I'm not!" "Oh yeah, you are!" Price Tag >:]'d, sticking to the bit. "He's only one of the highest priced thingamajigs on the market!" They wrapped their string around him and fibbed the highest value they could count to. "check it, 8 whole bucks!"

Book facepalmed. Cake grew worried. "Wait, are we really gonna just leave him here?" "It's fine," said Pillow. "There's other ones." The cashier raised an eyebrow. "So he's not one of a kind? W-Whatever, we can't accept this. If you can't afford to pay for your order I'm afraid you'll have to return it." "Well," sighed Nickel as he stood up, "I know when I'm beat."

"Now just hold on, Nickel…" Naily flicked him back over on his back. "I think I can make this work. Here, I'll write you a check." She opened the glove compartment and grabbed a paper slip. She scribbled something down and slapped it on the counter, sliding it over to the cashier, who was too tired to realize she couldn't accept that as payment either.

She picked up the slip and was met with a crudely written note, "Distraction". "DRIVE!" Shouted Naily. By the time the cashier had realized what was going on, her group of dine-and-dashers had already sped off, with the food, but without the odd nickel cosplayer that still lay on her desk. "They're gone, aren't they?" He asked. Wendy sighed. Trillions of entities in the universe and none of them wanted to give her a single fucking break. She pressed a button at the top of the room, "Code 2762 at 1:15," before resting her chin on the bar and waiting to be allowed to leave. "You got anything you wanna kill time with?" She slurred to the coin costumed fellow. "Uhhh…" He thought of an interesting conversation topic. "I cranked a machine once."

"What are you doing?!" Cried Cake as he watched the Burger King fade away from his vision. "He's still in there! NICKEL'S STILL IN THE RESTAURANT!" "Oh yeah… Well, the only option to get him back I can think of is to go through the Drive Thru again, and that's gonna need a lotta quick maneuvering now that we've burned bridges." Naily searched through the bags for some fries. "How about we eat first? Can't have good reflexes on an empty stomach!" Price Tag looked up at her. "I thought you already ate?" "But these are better for the brain," replied Naily as she stuffed a pawful of fries in her mouth. "Potatoes and all. Not as high in mercury." "Ah, that's fair."

Naily handed a fry over to Book, who handed it over to Cake. "You want this one, Cake?" "I'll eat when we get home," he muttered, quietly, as Book took the fry back and ate it. He was too pertubed to dwell on food. How could anybody not be pertubed knowing one of their friends was accidentally left behind? How was nobody freaking out?! Book could see he was fearful, almost to the point of tears. "Cake? Are you feeling alright?"

"We left him behind…" He weeped. "We abandoned him! We're never gonna see him again!" Book felt guilt wash over her. "Oh, don't say that! You know he's just a few blocks away." She rubbed his back. "Look, I know our teammates are a bit… erratic, at times, but they still care deeply about their friends, don't they? They'd never do something that out of line if they weren't sure it'd end up alright in the end." He sniffed. "But what abo-"

"Shh," Pillow hushed as she slid into the front seat, pointing onto the window. "Look over there," she exclaimed, cueing everyone to look in her direction. It was the same hotel where Naily had found the car. Pillow was particularly fixating on a suited man standing outside, who appeared particularly livid for whatever reason. He was kicking and screaming, jumping up and down in unabashed fury. "Isn't that the guy from the poster?" Taggy pointed out.

"Oh yeah," Naily replied. "Ron whacha call it. Gosh, his face's practically turning red. Pillow, try reading his lips!"

Pillow rolled down the window and peeked her head out, curling her hands around her eyes to mimic binoculars. She spoke in a monotone voice. "-idiots, I don't care who you are, I am the President. If you don't get it back in five seconds, you can tell your kids they won't be having a christmas… look, there they are, that's my car, those assholes stole my car, shoot them, shoot them."

"PILLOW!" Cried Book, who pulled her down just in time to miss the flurry of bullets coursing through the windows. Everyone followed suit as gunshots flurried through the car; the bullet-proof glass was strong, but the government's exclusive top-model NERF guns were stronger. When the noise fell silent, Naily perked back up. "Whew, that was close. You guys all good?" "Not mentally," Book whimpered. "We have one casualty…" Cake spoke, crestfallen as he held up a soda cup. Liquid bled out of the gaping bullethole in its middle, pouring through the front and back ends. Taggy giggled. "Heh. Well, if an object got shot today, I'm sure glad it wasn't one with a face. Huh, Naily?" They looked up at her, frowning when she didn't humor their playful quip.

"Naily? Are you OK, buddy?" Her eyes were wide, blank, empty, yet filled with despair. Invisible tears fell down her face, sliding down to the corners of her mouth, a small frown with lips that covered her clenched, grinding teeth, as if to give but a glimpse at her interior rage. Price Tag's face formed semicolons. They'd never seen her like this. "Slow down." Naily hissed at their partner, who understood quickly. They eased pressure on the pedal as Naily slowly turned around, the vehicle creeping onto the sidewalk.

"Wait for my signal…" She carefully waited for non-target pedestrians to clear the runway. Book began to connect the dots. Her heart sank. "Naily, it's just a cup, whatever you're gonna do, don't do it!"

"Brake…" Bomby fastened his seatbelt. Those gunmen had really done it now; there was no stopping Naily at this point. Whatever was about to happen, was about to happen. "RAM IT!"

The car shot forward. Onlookers screamed and leapt out of the way as the vehicle sped towards the clique of suits. The self-proclaimed President's jaw dropped in horror as the cadillac careened towards his body. His ear-splitting scream was cut off with a loud, painful crunch, his body crashing into the windshield, his nose breaking and his arm bones forced to twist into unnatural angles. His face flattened from the sheer force, like something one would see out of a Tom & Jerry cartoon. It quickly slipped downwards leaving only a trail of blood, which was quickly cleaned off with the wipers. The body fell under the tires as they crushed out what little life remained in the corpse.

"Aw yeah!" Cheered Taggy as they gave Naily a high-five. Book's jaw was agape. "That was… you just…" "Now that Big Red's been taken care of, let's get Nickel back!" She flicked the radio back on instinctively, and like something out of a cheesy movie, a song began on cue. "Look at this photograph," the speakers blared. Pillow barely bat an eye. She clearly didn't mind this song as much.

Nickel flailed his legs around. "And it's just, she does nothing, while I toil and toil and toil for some stupid recovery center that doesn't even work after a while!" Wendy was attentive to the story the stranged coin costumed fellow was telling. She didn't think it was real, at all, but anything to keep her awake while she waited for management to let her leave.

He stood up and started gesturing wildly with his feet, "Flumple dumple smordledorf, it was degrading! Like, I was reduced to a cranking slave, crank crank crack 'till the sky goes black." He sat back down with a huff. "Why didn't you just, like… stop?" Wendy asked. "What?" "Like, just stop cranking. If you feel, like… degraded, or whatever it was, why keep doing something you hate, y'know?"

And let his friends die? He quickly grew defensive. "Oh yeah, well…" He stuttered, struggling to come up with a comeback. "Why don't you… stop… your thing?!" She fell silent. Nickel's response was cheap, and poorly delivered, but something about it resonated with her in a way she couldn't describe. Could she really do that? Just stop doing her job for a while because it strained her mental health to the point of splinters? Then again, money was tight… She furrowed her eyebrows. "You do your whatever, I do mine," she dismissed vaguely.

A car swept by, as the dine and dashing group from before grabbed Nickel by the foot and pulled him back into the car. Taking back a tip? Now that was low… not that he was, actually, a coin of course. Was he? Whatever, he was gone anyway, but his idea remained…

Cake grabbed onto Nickel and hugged him tightly, as he sobbed hysterically. "NICKEL I'M SO SORRY I MISSED YOU SO MUCH I WAS SO WORRIED I'D NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN," He spouted, as he peppered him with platonic kisses. Nickel shut his eyes, shielding them from the brown smooch marks appearing all across his body. He was glad Cake loved him enough to fear for his safety, he just wished he wasn't caught so off guard. "Thanks, but I was kinda in the middle of something…"

"Well that doesn't matter, now," Naily said as she swung the car back onto the road, then into the nearest parking lot. "You must be starving after all that waiting! Here…" She took the items that weren't fries out of the bag. Those were for later. She threw a cheeseburger at Nickel, some nuggets at Cake, a 'whopper' at Bomby, an ice cream at Pillow, a salad at Book, and took the kids meal for herself. The plastic toy inside, presumably inedible to her, was given to Taggy; an astronaut of some kind, with Toy Story 7 branding, they were merely estatic that it eminated light of any kind for them to, quote unquote, "eat".

Nickel stared into the burger, his focus blotting out all other senses. This was it. The purpose of the entire trip, to get at least a taste of viewers' world food. With great carefulness, he moved the food toward his mouth and bit into it, his teeth digging into the papery outer layer, the soft, warm bread, and the juicy, succulent meat. He thinks he forgot a step, but it doesn't matter. He's eating now, and he can finally taste the higher realm.

But something about it feels off, artificial. Less personal than Two's cooking. It tasted better, obviously, but what it had in flavour it lacked in heart. There is no love, no passion to be tasted, rather, homogenized corporate fluff.

His train of thought was derailed by a series of blasting sirens, fading in from in front of him. "W…what's that?" Pillow looked to the front window for the source of the noise. There, crawling over the horizon, were a flock of cars speeding their way. Atop their rooves were sirens, flashing red and blue. "Oh, I know these guys! They're feds." She turned to Naily, smiling. "They're probably angry at us because we killed their leader. We should drive. Now." She got the memo, forwarding the message to Taggy, who floored the pedal and swerved the car onto the road. The chase was on.

The car bulleted down the path, dashing away from the persuing police. Onlookers gasped as sirens whined throughout the street, dispatch after dispatch chasing the rogue presidential cadillac. Many scrambled for their phones to take pictures of the incident, eager to document perhaps one of the strangest events in U.S. political history.

One enemy car managed to catch up with Just Not, preparing to throw them off course. Ram! Nickel flew off Cake, hitting the back of the driver's seat before collapsing onto the floor. "Oh dear!" Book cried as she stood to pick him up. Ram! The car surged forward. Book was thrown out of her seat, pages aflutter. Pillow, who was restrained by her seatbelt, took notice. "You seem to be having trouble with one of the drivers," She observed. "Do you want me to take care of them?" "Y-yeah, sure, do what you can!" Book groaned as she rubbed her temple. Ram! The car swerved from left to right. Naily struggled to keep balance, frantically trying to stop the car from spinning. Taggy twisted into awkward positions in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pedal. Bomby gripped onto the grab handle, failing to curb his panic. "WE'RE GONNA DIE!" He screamed. Ram! Like a kick in an already bruised chest, the car was shoved again. "HURRY!" Cried Bomby. When Book finally managed to regain composure she could make out Pillow reaching for the back of her covers, pulling out a large, black shape. Her eyes widened. "I-is that a…" Ram! Book shrieked as she fell back onto the floor. Pillow rolled down the window, unfazed.

"I lied, earlier." She said, as she unbuckled, and took aim. "I have a gun."

Right as the car was about to ram again, Pillow fired a spray of bullets, which burst through the enemy's windshield and caused the car to swerve away in surprise. It turned sharply to the left, spinning directly into a building, which collapsed on top of it in a fiery explosion. "BURN IN HELL, YOU CAPITALIST PIG DOGS!" Cried Pillow.

Naily saw the car fade away, and sighed in relief. The feeling vanished as she saw a sharp curve in the road. "We're about to turn!" She shouted. Pillow noted, grabbing onto the grab handle and using the velocity from the vehicle's swing to fling herself onto the back trunk. She used one hand to cling onto the window, and the other to hold onto the gun. Bullets fired hysterically at the cops as they swerved, desperately trying to dodge the storm of gunfire while keeping chase with the criminals.

"How are we going to get home?!" Cake panicked as he pulled Nickel in for a protective hug. "I don't know!" Naily snapped. "The alleyway could be anywhere!" Book facepalmed. Her cover was starting to redden from the amount of times she had slapped it these past few hours. Taggy made a <:[. "Book, weren't you keeping directions?!" "Me?!" Book replied. "Oh, yeah, me, uhh…" She scrambled across the floor. That page couldn't have gone too far, could it?

After a few seconds of searching and a quick buildup of fear, she finally found the page. She sighed as she sat back in her seat and buckled up, scanning the pages for any valuable information. In spite of how rushed it was, it felt surprisingly comprehensible. "Okay, do you know where Barnes Street is?" "No!" Naily responded, before seeing a street sign. "Yes!" "Okay, turn right there…"

Pillow felt herself slide sharply to her left, flipping over onto her front as she struggled to maintain her grip on the rim. She found herself awkwardly shifting onto her right as she tried to get a good look at the pack of feds, still following her with intent to kill. If they didn't recognise her before, they certainly recognised her now.

She was running low on ammo, and if she wanted to permanently get rid of the threat, she'd have to change tactics. She looked up. A helicopter flew above them at an almost safe distance. She assumed it belonged to a news station, of some sort. Stupid spies, probably broadcasting this live for the whole world to see, like it was any of their business. At least in BFDI there was a chance to edit some of the more personal things out. She took aim.

She unexpectedly swerved back to her right, this time almost falling off the car. Her feet slid off the trunk, and for the moment, she thought she would end up skidding onto the road, meeting an untimely end as her cover was ripped to shreds. Yet, thankfully, a swift swerve sent her back to the uncomfortable, yet safer position she was in before, and she, once again, took aim.

"OK, now you're gonna wanna stick to this road for a couple more metres!" Book instructed. Naily obliged, using this time to glare at the car coming up to her right. It slowly gained on her, and she anticipated another ramming. But instead, the driver rolled down the window and poked their head out to talk to her.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA," they shouted, over the unending howls of the wind. "HOW FAST YOU'RE GOING?!" Naily rolled down her window. "NO," she remarked, "I CAN'T READ." "I'M GOING TO NEED TO SEE YOUR LICENSE AND REGISTRATION!" She rolled her eyes, pulling out an I.D. from who knows where and sticking her paw out to give it to them. They grabbed it and read its label, a single, crudely written word: "Distraction". Looking up from the note, they were barely given enough time to react to the car in front of them, and with a painful crash, they demolished the entire front of their car, and practically their entire body. "Naily 2, Viewers 0!" Cheered Taggy.

After skillful shooting at the helicopter's rotors, Pillow watched the fireworks. The machine barreled down uncontrollably, spiralling into the police herd and colliding with a loud, dramatic explosion, which sent debris flying even in her close vicinity. The bright orange light soon faded, leaving only piles of rust and rubble. Pillow sighed in relief, and swerved back into the car. That spectacle was worth the world. "Uhh, guys, I think we missed," Cake muttered as he pointed to the bright neon "alleyway" sign that they had just sped past. That must've been where we came from, Book thought as she facepalmed.

To make matters worse, Bomby could see another herd of cars speeding towards them. "TURN! TURN!" He shouted. Naily swerved around, this time heading in the opposite direction. Her stomach dropped when she saw a pile of cars blocking her path. "Well, we're done for." said Nickel. "Taggy, brake!" Naily commanded. Much to her surprise, they didn't. "Price Tag, brake!" "No, we can't!" They snapped. "You can make it through this, you ran over that guy, you can run through a couple cars!"

Their words were kind, if not poorly timed considering the circumstances. Nethertheless, she trusted them enough to play along. She angled herself towards the alleyway and shut her eyes, hoping with all her might that they were correct and she would push through the piles of cars. It was either that, or nothing.

By now, a crowd of almost every object in the hotel had gathered around the vending machine. Green tape was set up near the area, so nobody but those willing to try and fix it could cross. Surprisingly, after so many hours, nobody could seem to understand what was wrong with the vending machine, or how they could get Winner's "money" back. Not even Golf Ball could fix the issue.

Snowball, one of the only objects who hadn't previously showed up, stepped proudly in to the fray. He strutted down the cleared line, "You're all stumped by a vending machine? Pathetic! I can fix something like that in seconds," He boomed, shoving Golf Ball out of the way, "because I have arms!"

"No, stop, don't." Said Winner, sarcastically. He breathed in, then out, as he stretched his arms towards the vending machine. "Open sesame!"

Nothing happened. Everyone was silent for a brief few seconds. Snowball took another deep breath. "Open sesa-"

The car burst through the machine, flattening Snowball in the process. It flipped over repeatedly as the other objects rushed to get out of the way, Winner particularly growing afraid as their once dimmed fears were quickly rekindled. Finally, it settled, resting on its back.

One by one, Just Not climbed out of the vehicle. Naily, realizing that she wasn't dead, leapt around in celebration and cheered. Seeing Taggy, she leapt into their legs estatically, giving them multiple swift kisses and thanks. Their string began to wag again as the affection extinguished their uneasiness. They made a ^w^, their voice cracking as they cheered giddily that they were both okay, and they didn't think twice before reciprocating her hug as they wrapped their legs around hers tightly. Soon afterwards they were joined by Bomby, who pulled both of them in for a group hug. "OHMAGOSH! NAILY! TAGGY!" He cried, as the group barrel-rolled forward in excitement.

Soon after they were joined by Cake, who was glad to see his friends were alright, then Nickel, then Book, then Pillow…

"Just Not?!" Cried Two, as they all stopped to look at them. "Where have you been? We've been trying to fix this ve-" They froze when they turned around to see a giant, green portal. They were left in a paralyzing state of shock, their jaw agape as they stared at the wormhole.

"The real world," they slowly turned to the team. "You went to the real world."

Price Tag sighed, as they stepped forward. "I guess there's no denying it any longer." They shut their eyes into a U_U. "It was Winner. Winner forced us to go." They recoiled. "T-Taggy!" "Winner! You mean you were in on this?!" They began to sweat. "Well, I mean-" "Yeah, totally! We were just trying to keep to ourselves, but they threatened to terminate our cable subscription, it was horrible!" Naily put a paw on her forehead melodramatically, playing along with the bit. "Book, you can back us up, right?"

But Book was already running off. She held up a finger, likely to indicate that they had taken things 'one' step too far, before disappearing into the distance. The joke was on her, though, Naily thought. She was holding up the wrong one.

Either way she couldn't keep up the act. "…It's just a prank?" She shrugged.

"I DON'T CARE IF IT WAS A BIRTHDAY GIFT OR ANOTHER TRIAL FROM GOD!" Two yelled, "I AM BEYOND ANGRY AT ALL OF YOU! Winner, I gave you clear instructions to not randomly create portals to the real world without my permission."

"I'm sorry!" They sighed. "N-Nickel said there were purple tomatoes, and I was hungry!"

"You eat those literally every other day! Nickel! I tell you to be more grateful for what you have, so you run off into another dimension?!" "W-well, yeah, but the food they have there doesn't really taste- have the same heart that yours does."

"…YOU ATE THEIR FOOD?!" They cried, taking personal offense. "Look," said Naily, "I'm really sorry if we did something wrong by running off. We just wanted to find more of the exotic caviar you were talking about!"

They frumped. "The ca- Is that what this is about?" Nickel's eyes darted around. "Well, yeah, where else would you get it from?"

"Nickel." Two said, bluntly. "Nickel, look at me. We have a canal, with fish in it. That lay eggs. Caviar is fish eggs."

"Oh." He tapped his foot, awkwardly. "Well that's why we didn't really… find any, anyway. We mostly just ate burgers."

"Whatever you ate, it wasn't worth violating one of my clearest rules!" They sighed. "Look, I'll let you all off the hook this time, since clearly none of you had any malicious intent." They walked towards the portal, while eyeing Winner, "and using your limitless power irresponsibly, even for just a minute, is admittedly tempting," before standing in front of it. "But you all could've gotten very hurt, and for that risk alone, I don't want you ever sneaking out like that again."

They turned around. "Now I'm going to go get some stuff for oh MY GOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD!" They screamed as they saw a flurry of tanks, helicopters, and police cars aiming directly at them. They hastily ripped the portal off the wall, folding it into a bite-sized piece before swallowing it with a quick gulp. They breathed heavily for a few seconds. Winner raised their eyebrows. "That's impressive." "WHAT DID YOU- Thanks, by the way, thank you for noticing, but WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

Pillow pulled out some shoelaces. "We also killed the president."

Nickel bit into his fried caviar. It was crunchier, and more bitter than his previous feast. "Well, maybe two week house arrest isn't that bad after all!" Naily perked, kicking her feet against her assigned bed as she switched on the TV. "Yeah," Taggy said as they huddled under the blanket. "We get room service and everything!" "AND, THANKS TO DOORDASH, 4% CASHBACK ON EVERY PURCHASE." Cheered Bomby. Naily awkwardly nodded. Perhaps exposure to the viewers' world had gone to his head.

She looked up at the roof - gray, like the rest of the room - and silently sighed. While she appeared about as optimistic as the others, secretly, Naily couldn't wait to get out of here. The room's dull coloring was nowhere near as visually stimulating as her walls, which were somehow littered with bright neon blinkie gifs and other animated posters. She stared enviously at the bed which would've been assigned to Book had she not been pardoned by Two. Stupid justice. She was probably being rewarded with a nice, tropical vacation for her efforts to stop the situation from escalating before it began, while the rest of the team lounged in prison.

Naily was right: but in actuality, being separated from her friends even for a little while was perhaps just as punishing to Book as this ordeal was to Naily. The friend group they shared was tight-knit: nobody could stay mad at each other for long, and even if they didn't think it, they longed to see each other again and quickly reconcile.

"Well, Burger Kings come and go…" Cake stated as he ate a fry, whose recipe had been copied from the titular restaurant after much research, "but you're all the only monarchs I'll ever need."

Awkward, yet sweet. That was Cake. He huddled up with the rest of his team in a hug while thinking about how Loser would be the royal jester in this metaphor.

Ironically, Nickel thought to himself as he took another bite of his caviar, Two perhaps did need to go to the viewers' world to make proper ground sevruga after all, before the incident made it too dangerous for anyone to venture into again. Except it wasn't the caviar that was obtained from the viewers' world.

It was the microwaves, delivered by Black Sea Shipping Company.

Pillow crept into her room. It had been vacant for the past fortnite on account of her house arrest. Her friends were currently having a reunion party downstairs to celebrate finally being able to interact with the outside world. How naive, or rather, ignorant. They had finally taken a step outside of their little bubble and were still perfectly content with staying inside? Their loss.

She bit her fingernail into the shape of a key, and unlocked her drawer. Two had confiscated her gun after finding it during the car inspection. They didn't, however, think to search her room. Searching through her pile of backup weapons, she found another: a ray gun. Smaller, and with a much slower firing speed, but it packed a punch if you had good aim. Perfect for what she was trying to achieve.

She switched it to "Portal" mode. The incident was probably all over the news by now. It would take a lot of work to cover it all up, but if Pillow had her heart set on fixing what was broken, chances are it wouldn't take more than a few hours. If all went well she would be back in time to catch the end of the party.

She aimed at the floor.

She breathed in.

She fired.

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normal-sea-urchin · 5 months

Text

Casey Jones Fucking Dies: Chapter 4

idk how but im pumping these out like, daily. idk what's gonna happen in the next chapter tho. tbh most of this chapter was made up as i wrote it

There was a second face, a distorted one, staring back at him, a few feet behind him. The face resembled a skeleton and the figure had a greenish glow similar to the one around the white haze. Raph whipped around and without hesitation, threw a punch towards the figure. He only realized it wasn't there when his fist hit the wall, making him cry out in pain. Just a few short seconds later, all three of Raph's brother were on the other side of the door.

"Raph are you okay?" Leo asked?

"What happened?" Donnie questioned

"Uhh, I'm fine! Just, uh, tripped!" Raph said, trying his best to sound casual.

Leo made an unsatisfied noise, but he and Donnie both left. But Raph saw Mikey's shadow creep underneath the door. "Mikey I can see your shadow, what do you want?" Raph grumbled, not really wanting to talk to his any of his brothers, but knowing it was the only way to get Mikey to leave.

"You sure you're okay, bro?" Mikey asked in a rather small voice.

"For the last time, I'm fine Mikey!" Raph snarled.

"Okay..." Mikey sighed. A few seconds later Mikey's footsteps could be heard walking away. Now with all his brothers gone, Raph could bring his mind back to what he saw. What did he see? The image of that face flashed in his mind. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know, but he also had a feeling he would find out either way.

The next day, Raph was paired with April for patrol, much to Donnie's disliking. Raph didn't exactly like it either. He didn't like hanging around April. Knowing how she felt about Casey's death, and knowing she didn't know who the murderer was. Yet here they both were, patrolling through the sewers, looking for whatever destroyed one of Donnie's cameras. It was probably just a stupid rat anyways (no offense to Master Splinter).

"So," april began, "uh, how's your day going?" she asked, trying to make polite conversation.

The question caught Raph off guard, he wasn't exactly one for small talk, it's not like he got much practice considering he grew up in the sewers. "Uh, good, I guess" he replied hesitantly. He kind of knew how he should respond, after having seen people partake in small talk on TV.

"Mm." she hummed in reply. The turtle didn't know how to take that. People on TV usually started talking about stuff happening in their life, right? But what would he tell her? Had to think of something. Think of something.

"Uh so how are you feeling with your friend's death?" he blurted out. 'Why the fuck would i ask that?' he scolded himself mentally. April inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly, letting her shoulders drop. Raph could tell he struck a nerve. But before he could retract the statement, she replied.

"I just," she began, "miss him. So, so, much." Her voice began to crack as her eyes teared up. Raphael felt like he was about to scream. He was in no way, a sentimental type. He wasn't good with emotions, not even his own.

"Mm, I'm... sorry. For your loss." he mumbled, cautious not to make April cry.

"Thanks, Raph." she responded after a moment. Thankfully, before any more words could be said, the turtle's T-phone rang. He pulled it out of his belt, answering the call.

"Hey Raph, we found out what broke the security camera. Turns out it was just some stupid rat. You and April can come on back now." his brother Donnie said, his voice crackling through the phone.

"Ok, sounds good, we'll start walking back" Raph commented. And with that, April and Raph started the walk back to his home.

_______________________

Later that day, right before training, Raph couldn't find one of his sai, again. He checked on the shelves, in the drawers of his bedside table, and even under his bed. He just had it earlier today too. He was about to start looking underneath the rug in his room at this point, when his older brother, Leo peeked through the door frame.

"Wow, still having trouble finding your sai, huh?" he pondered.

"I swear I just had it! I bet this is some dumb prank by Mikey." Raph yelled, already prepared to defend himself. By this point, Leo was leaning on the doorway staring at his nails, for the sake of making Raph mad.

"Well, you better find it quick, Master Splinter won't like you being late because you lost your weapon again." Leo remarked, grazing over Raph's small outburst. And with that, he left, leaving Raph alone in his room, frantically searching for his sai. He swiftly check the shelves again; and he checked the drawers in his bedside table again. He looked under his bed again, and found his weapon lying there. Right there. But he had already checked there! He swears he had already checked there.

Whatever the matter, he decided to grab it and rush over to the dojo so as to avoid being any more late than he probably already was.

_______________________

Several hours passed, and with that, training was over for the day. As he and his brothers walked out of the dojo, April was already sitting on the couch, presumably waiting for them to finish. Upon hearing them leave the dojo she turned around to face them.

"Hi guys!" she perked up at the sight of them.

"Hi April! Hope you're not tired from the walk here, cause I spotted something on some of the security cams, I think we should check it out." Donnie mentioned.

"What'd you see Don?" Mikey questioned. Raph began to space out around this time, only really hearing something along the lines of 'let's go to the lab' so he absentmindedly complied and started walking towards the lab. While spacing out he began to think about the face he saw in the mirror yesterday. A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned around to see it was april.

"Hey Raph, can I talk to you real quick?" she inquired politely, flashing a small smile. Raph really didn't want to talk to her, but thought that if he told her no it would only make him more suspicious.

"Uh, yeah sure." he answered. He tried to avoid eye contact, not wanting to seem engaged in the conversation.

"It's just that," she started, "You've been acting kind of weird lately. Mikey said that a few days ago you were acting weird while in the sewers placing the cameras, and Leo mentioned that you've been really forgetful with your sais. Is something going on?"

Raph took that all in. So his brothers really had noticed his weird behavior. And even worse, they told April. "Ugh, I'm fine." Raph stated. He didn't want to say anything more than that. He just wanted April to leave him alone.

"Are you sure? The past few weeks, you've been acting kind of weird. And your vibe has been kind of... off. Not bad just, off" she questioned.

"I'm fine, seriously April." Raph sternly replied.

"Hmm, okay." April muttered, walking past him into the lab. Raph followed her into the lab. once behind Donnie who was sitting at his desk, what April said finally processed. what did she mean off?

Chapter 1/Chapter 3/Masterpost

#tmnt #2012 tmnt #casey jones #2012 casey jones #raphael #2012 raph #fanfic #casey jones fucking dies

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rzyraffek · 1 year

Text

Goodevening fallout fans im back in fandom, will upload fics now. They/them also it may be read as platonic or romantic! Request open

Chrismas with fallout characters

Fallout New Vegas

Raul

He loves chrismas!!! It reminds him of old days!

He will spend whole evening talking about how it looked before the war! How there was whole family gathering and how there was big tree lighted with colorful lights!

Ah those were the days. Hes glad he could spend this time with Curier, he missed those times

Benny

Guy just wants to spend time with Courier

Will give a lot of phisical affection and sweet words

Wanna have chrismas gift? Boom! Have 5😎

He has a lot of stuff to do but He will find few spare hours just to vibe with them

Arade

Man is stressed asf

Them???inviting HIM??? Im mean he is happy but again, he is our overthinking king. What if something goes wrong? Or he says something rude?? Uhh what to buy!!!

S/o give him few smooches and he will be okay

He will wear chrismas-themed sweater, probably with reindeers on it or something

Vulpes

Guy wont understand the whole idea of chrimas. "What??? Quismois? Tf is that?? What you mean by 'tradition'?? The only tradition in my blood is killing ncr whores". Vulpes cringe, he does not want to do anything 'normal'😒

If Curier convinces him that its like hyper ultra important and if they wont celebrate they gonna explode or something he might agree

BUT dont make him sing or dress up nicley, he already bearly breathes pls

If Curier mades goog food, he might complain less next chrismas

Ulysses

Yesyesyesyes finally some good chrismas enjoyer!

He will wear funny chrismas sweater! And make food with Curier! And overall try to be nicer

I know Ulysses is super emo and philosophical but who said he cant have fun once per year

Please hold hands with him!! He isnt very phisical, more into smart complement and quality time but hand holding is nice once per few months

Of course He will still talk about great devide and bull and bear but cmon its Ulysses you take it all or non

Fallout3

Butch

He knows what is chrismas and they celebrated it in valut every year!

He loves chrismas! It kinda reminds him of good valut times when he was just a kid! It also means he gets gifts

Of course He will buy them a gift too!

He will wear matching sweaters with Lone

Will eat all food that is near him (4meter radius)

Charon

Man remebers chrismas, know whats that, but never expirenced it

Lone showed him warmth and relax he never really felt

Chrismas is a new thing for him, he enjoys Lone company. He feels kinda weird when he gets invited as chrismas party guest and when he gets his own gift. Its all new to him, very nice too

He still isnt used to human touch(doesnt like it) and loud noises only remind him of bad stuff so as long as Lone avoids it going to be a perfect evening

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