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#they are different songs i dont know why they would ever call them the same name
sohnric · 2 months
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to. my first – k. sunwoo
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pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader
genre: 90s au. twenty-five twenty-one au, friends to lovers au, exes to lovers au. fluff, slice of life, coming of age, suggestive. highschool au, football player! sunwoo, baker! sunwoo. cheerleader! reader. first love au. what we call wet cat sunwoo. meeting your ex after years and falling back in love with him kind of thing.
warnings: alcohol, throwing up, swearing, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail, a heated make out session or two that alludes to them having sex but no actual smut happens, finger sucking, the reader moping around a lot, no plot just vibes.
word count: 31k
a/n: inspired by me telling @/csenke that sunwoo is my first love. why am i so soft for this man i truly dont know... thank you best friend for betaing this monster i appreciate it a LOT! also thank you to sana @/heemingyu and izzy @/from-izzy for the help on some parts of the fic and brainstorming the ending w me, as well as beta reading small parts of this.
spin-off to my fic millennium bug because sunwoo deserves love too! the reader from eric's fic is referenced to as MB!Y/N in this. you don't have to read the first fic to understand this one, but there are a lot of references in this and i highly encourage you to do so!
they say you never forget about your first love. you guess that's true. (or– a story about reckless love, first kisses, growing up, ambition, and inevitably, failure.)
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August 2007
The laughter all around is electric. The music playing in the background makes you sway and hum to the melody, the familiar tunes making your insides light up with a different sense of nostalgia when you remember the times in which these songs were popular. Your tired limbs make you cut your way through the room and sit down on a vacant chair, not really caring about where your designated seat was anymore, just needing to rest for a second before you either throw up from exhaustion or faint from how tired your legs are from all the dancing. Paying a quick goodbye to Juyeon on the dance floor, you heave out a satisfied sigh when your bottom meets the cushioned seat of the chair, eyes zeroing on the filled dance floor.
Feeling a cramp in your foot, you scowl and lean down, ready to do the thing you’ve been desiring for at least the last three hours– if not the whole day. Hands playing with the strap on your heel, you make the shoe come undone before you slip the uncomfortable footwear off your feet, relaxing when your naked limbs meet with the cold tile on the floor. 
You don’t really know who in their right mind would have a wedding in the middle of the summer heat, but you guess there are people that are out of their mind like that– and those people are your friends from high school. 
Everything about coming back to your hometown has made you feel unpleasantly nostalgic so far– the streets haven’t changed a bit, your childhood home still looks just the same, furniture unmoved, and the air is still as crisp, yet humid as it always was during late August. It’s only tonight that finally makes the weird bittersweetness turn into joy. You’re back home with everyone you’ve ever known, with everyone who’s made you into who you are today. You’re seeing all their faces for the first time in ages– and frankly, it does feel good. 
The satisfaction in your veins stays for a bit until a figure dressed in a suit comes into your point of view. It’s not like you’re seeing him for the first time tonight– he’s a big character, even when it comes to this wedding, so it’s hard to not notice him– but as his legs take him towards you in a wobbly nature, it dawns on you that now is maybe finally the time you get to talk to him. Don’t get me wrong– there are no hard feelings between the two of you (or at least you don’t have any, you’re not so sure about his side of the story). It’s just that seeing him dressed in a tux, tie now a little loose around his neck, the twinkle in his eye still present as back when you were both a lot younger, there’s still a strong aftertaste of your feelings towards him somewhere on the tip of your tongue. 
His walk is a little lopsided as he grins at you and takes a seat on the vacant chair next to yours, a huff of air escaping his lungs as his body relaxes, limbs falling freely down the sides of his chair. His cheeks are a little red and his hair a little messy– there’s only so much to explain his composure apart from all the dancing he’s done.
“So I see that you still can’t handle your liquor well even after all those years?” you joke, making the boy turn his head to face you, an amused twinkle appearing in his smile. 
His eyes are still the same chocolate orbs you know, still the same soft look adorning them whenever he feels particularly ecstatic. He shrugs, jolting his bottom lip out before he sighs to himself. “Well, it’s not every day you are the best man at your best friend’s and your sister’s wedding,” he muses, shrugging. 
Laughing at his remark, once again taking in the state of the room– Juyeon, Hyunjae and Haknyeon each dancing somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, MB!Y/N’s friends from university twirling her around in the right corner, Eric staring at the bride with a warm gaze in his eyes, sipping on a drink while resting against one of the tables, clearly taking a mental image to look at every time he feels the need to– it all feels kind of surreal. Who would’ve thought all those years ago that it would end like this?
Well, Eric Sohn, for starters. He confessed to everyone in his wedding speech that he knew he wanted to marry MB!Y/N the moment she kissed him on New Year’s Eve of 1999– him being this cheesy was only acceptable because it was his own wedding. In any other circumstance, Sunwoo wouldn’t be able to let his best friend live this down.
It’s not like you ever expected those two to break up– it just makes you a little in awe at how fast time is passing. “It’s kinda crazy, isn’t it?” you hum, squinting at the flood of people on the dance floor.
“It is,” Sunwoo hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek, “still can’t believe they’re dating. Hell, they’re getting married right now…” 
“You can’t believe your sister is dating your best friend?” you laugh, wiping the sweat that’s accumulated off your forehead, the mist appearing there both because of your reckless dancing and because of the unbearable heat of the August night.
“That, and also the other way around,” he hisses, “but I guess they’re both so insufferable that they go well together, so I don’t know why I’m still so surprised.”
Chuckling at his comment– you guess the bond he has with his sister is never to be changed, no matter how many years have passed– you watch as he shrugs off his suit jacket and throws it over the back of his chair, starting to roll up his sleeves to expose his forearms. Eyes following his motions, you clear your throat and force yourself to look back into his eyes when he asks you a question. “What about you, though? Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I am,” you nod, no hesitation, “it’s really nice to see all of you after so long. Plus, I’m having a lot of fun, so that’s a nice bonus." 
“I can see that,” he grins, “by the way you sat on my seat just now, and all–” 
“Oh god– I’m sorry,” you gasp, suddenly feeling a little silly. And here you thought he went up to you because he wanted to catch up… “I’ll move, if–”
The sound of Sunwoo’s hearty laugh lands into your ear– it’s just the same as it was back when you were both high schoolers, making your heart soar– before he shakes his head and urges you to stay with a motion of his hand, putting his large palm on your thigh to keep you from moving. “No, no, don’t be stupid,” he says, “I don’t mind. I was looking for you anyway, so you just made it easier for me by sitting here, actually.”
He was looking for you, resonates in your head, the familiar buzzing in your fingertips alerting you of the effect he has on you even tonight. God, maybe you were the one that had too much to drink…
“You were?” you ask, tone of voice light– not at all suspicious. 
Sunwoo nods, shrugging. “Well, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do,” he smiles, “don’t we?” 
Eyes meeting his, the contact feels electrifying to the point it makes your head spin when you look at him, taking in his glossy eyes and the flush of his cheeks. They’re less round than when you two were young, but his eyes still stay the same– big, round and tender.
He reminds you a lot of the time when you saw him drunk for the first time.
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to. my first time getting drunk
April 1999
Havoc rings in his ears like jingle bells, the world around him spinning like he’s on a rollercoaster. His head feels like someone is installing a nail to the middle of his skull and when he looks around, Lee Donghyuck is staring at him with a glass bottle of soju in his hand, urging him to drink more.
Sunwoo doesn’t have it in him to do much else other than shake his head. It feels like he forgot all his vocabulary, not a single word coming out of his mouth or to the awake parts of his brain, watery eyes begging his classmate to not make him drink any more. 
What seemed like a good idea just a few moments ago– see, it’s prohibited to drink on school trips, but Kim Sunwoo is infamous for loving to break the rules– now seems like the worst idea of his whole entire life. He feels so sick he thinks he’s going to die of alcohol poisoning, but the laughter around keeps painfully reminding him that he hasn’t even had that much to drink in the first place. The amount of times he’s been called a lightweight this night is making his pride severely hurt, and even graciously intoxicated, he can’t bear the sting this is putting on his already hurt ego. 
“Come on, birthday boy! I’m sure you can handle one more,” Donghyuck urges, uncurling Sunwoo’s fist and placing the bottle into his grasp, making the poor boy wince and battle back tears. 
He knows he’s being embarrassing. The choice between not dying and not humiliating himself is rather a difficult one, but the moment he finally finishes the crossword puzzle in his brain and puts the glass opening against his lips, the bottle is thankfully taken out of his grasp and discarded somewhere where his eyes can’t reach.
“You’re done for the night, Kim Sunwoo,” you haul at him, shaking your head at the poor boy, “you’re done.”
Sunwoo wants to open his mouth and protest, maybe ask you what you mean, but the moment his lips unseal, he gets a sniff of the alcohol in the air and suddenly, he feels like throwing up. Your eyes lock with his, a pleading– maybe a warning– mirrors in Sunwoo’s gaze, and even though he’s so drunk he feels like he crossed dimensions, he applauds your ability to know just what he means by a single look into his eyes.
“Oh, Christ–” you curse, hurried steps moving to the corner of the room, swiftly grabbing the trash can and running back towards your friend sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. 
You make it just in time to catch the contains of Sunwoo’s stomach into the trash can, making the boy insanely grateful– he’s wearing the new shoes his mum got him for his birthday, and god knows he’d hate it if he ruined them the very first day he can show them off to his football friends.
The whole world disappears into the background as he throws up while making a mental promise to himself to never drink again. The only thing keeping him from losing it all is the feeling of your hand on his back, comforting rubs grounding him back to earth. Giggles fill his ears and he’s sure everyone’s laughing at him– even in his drunken state, he can recognise the shame filling his veins– but before he can open his mouth to argue with his classmates, the sound of your angry voice makes him seal his lips close and listen to the scolding you offer to his teammates for making him drink so much.
“You know he has a weak stomach, Donghyuck!” you huff and puff, your hand still drawing comforting circles to Sunwoo’s back as his head stays stuck in the bucket, not having enough energy to even straighten his spine. 
“It’s his birthday! Come on, don’t be so tight-arsed.”
“Well, do you want him to die on his day of birth? That’s not very cool of you,” you growl, the shuffle of your clothing and a pained “ow” escaping his friend’s lips hinting to Sunwoo that you just kicked the right wing to his shin. 
Deserved, Sunwoo thinks.
“Can somebody get Eric? I’m pretty sure he’s in Daehwi’s room with MB!Y/N, Minjeong and Jihoon,” you hum, waiting for anyone to follow your orders. 
Sunwoo blinks in and out of it, his consciousness giving up on him with the incredible pain in his temples. He feels incredibly grateful to have someone like you by his side not only now, but all the time. The two of you have gotten incredibly closer ever since he joined the football team– and with you being one of the cheerleaders, you’re always somehow around. Not that he’s complaining, of course. It seems like you are one of the more responsible ones in this room right now, and god knows Sunwoo needs a bit of guidance on his day to day ventures.
“Do you think you’ll be sick again?” you ask, voice soft in his ear. “Or can I take the trash can off you now?”
Sunwoo thinks for a bit, then he nods and lets go of the plastic bucket. He doesn’t know what happens to it after and nor does he care– it seems like the alcohol in his veins took away all his sense of object permanence. He can barely see anything in the yellow lights of the room (which makes him believe he is going blind from all the alcohol he’s had– don’t tell him it’s just his eyes getting hazy and confused with how much his head is spinning), but he’s sure he can feel you wiping his tear-stained cheeks (he wasn’t crying– his eyes were just watering) and pulling him closer to you when he threatens to fall over even in his seated position. Your hand comes up to play with his hair when you let him rest his head against your shoulder, your actions making him sleepy, eyes closing on themselves like a threat for him to fall asleep any second.
Something about the care, the loyal protectiveness you take over the boy makes his heart soften. He breaths in your scent, trying his hardest to focus on your presence and not the weird feeling in his stomach– although it’s settled a bit since he threw up, it’s still a little uneasy– and before he knows it, there’s a tap on his shoulder waking him up from the haze.
Sunwoo mourns, not really wanting to move from his position, too comfortable with your fingers threading through his hair– but much to his dismay, your soft voice appears in his ear, telling him he has to get up. “Can you walk on your own? We’re gonna get you back to your room,” you hum, your lips accidentally brushing against the shell of his ear, making everything in him light on fire. He’s not really sure if this is the effect alcohol has on you, but if it is, he’s certain he never wants to drink again.
“Sunwoo?” you call, the way you say his name suddenly all too angelic in his ears– but still not enough for him to answer. “Alright,” you sigh after the dreadful silence, taking charge of the situation, moving away from the boy and offering him your hands to hold on to as you try to get him on his feet, “I guess we’re gonna find out.”
His fingers intertwine with yours as he stares up at you, his vision blurry, but still sharp enough to make out your tired face. The sight is enough to make Sunwoo worry– is he being too much? Are you mad at him? Do you not want to be his friend anymore? – but before he has a chance to address any of those concerns, he’s being tugged up to his feet. Not ready for the weight of his own body, his knees buckle and refuse to work. There is a pair of hands clutching his arm automatically– yours– as another pair holds him up from behind by his waist. 
He’s not really sure who was his other savior, but by the silent curse heard from behind, he thinks he recognises Eric’s voice. 
“I know I shouldn’t have left him alone,” he hears his best friend say, voice full of frustration.
“You really shouldn’t have,” he hears you sigh, making the poor boy scowl.
It still feels like he can’t really speak, exhaustion taking a toll on him, but he follows the orders as you tell him to get on his best friend’s back– Eric’s crouching figure ready for the impact, waiting for the taller one to clutch onto him so he can carry him into the safety of their shared room. The operation has to be quick if they don’t want to be caught by their teachers while walking through the hall, and somehow, in the distant crevices of his brain, Sunwoo recognises that and he makes no battle to resist, doing exactly as he’s told.
“Man, you’re heavy,” he hears Eric huff under him as the poor boy carries him through the hall. “You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow, dude…”
Sunwoo’s head rests against his friend’s shoulder, hands carelessly hanging around Eric’s neck. He tries to blink away the sleep, desiring to stay awake, when your concerned face appears in his vision and suddenly, he feels insanely guilty.
“I’m sorry,” the two words escape his mouth with no trouble– the first words to appear in his vocabulary after the few minutes of him being surprisingly mute– only to hear his friend chuckle.
“Well, you’re going to be dying from a headache tomorrow, not us,” Eric hums, “so I think you have to apologize to future you first.”
Sunwoo pouts, bangs falling into his eyes making him blink in a desperate try to get the stray hairs away, attempting to make eye contact with your side profile. “Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice a little groggy from all the screaming and drinking.
“What?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his question. Your face morphs into a confused expression, the one where a wrinkle appears in between your brows– and it takes everything in Sunwoo not to poke the little line with his pointer finger in utter endearance.
“Are you… mad…?” he asks again, watching as your face morphs into amusement.
“No,” you shake your head, a hint of a laugh in your tone. “Why?”
“You look grumpy.”
“I’m just worried,” you note.
“About?” Sunwoo asks, his intelligence morphing into a one of a 10-year old with the influence the alcohol has on him. 
“You,” you say, sighing and shaking your head as you move two steps in front of Eric and open the door to their room, closing it swiftly behind you and following the duo towards Sunwoo’s bed. 
The younger one drops the boy into the cushions of his bed with an exaggerated sigh (that might as well be real, for all we know– god knows you wouldn’t be able to carry Sunwoo on your own), and the comfort of the pillow around his head is enough to make Sunwoo’s eyes start closing again, sleep threatening to take over his consciousness.
There’s some noise interrupting his sleep, though, making the boy tear his tired eyes open to notice you walking through the room. Sunwoo finds Eric putting a glass of water onto his bedside table and watches as you put a trash can beside his bed, hushed whispers sent Eric’s way resonating in the quiet room. “Make sure that he sleeps on his side so if he throws up again, he doesn’t choke–”
“Y/N?” he calls your name, watching as you look at him with careful eyes.
“Hm?”
“Are you leaving?” he asks, maybe a little foolishly.
“Yes.”
The boy nods at your reaction, showing his acknowledgement. In the drunken state of his mind, he knows he doesn’t particularly want you to leave, but he’s also fairly certain, finding the rational thought in the sober part of his brain, that you have to leave, and so he lets it go. The drunken state of his mind wins, though, when the next sentence foolishly escapes his lips.
“Please don’t stop liking me after this,” he mumbles, words slurring.
“What?” you ask– confused because you either don’t fully comprehend what he’s trying to say, or because you truly just couldn’t hear what words escaped his mouth– but when you don’t get a clarification, you just nod at the boy, seemingly desperate to keep him happy tonight. “Okay, I won’t.”
“You won’t stop liking me?” he asks, a big pout playing with his features.
“No.”
“Okay.”
That seems to put his mind at ease– enough to make his brain finally turn off and lead him to sleep. He doesn’t really remember what he dreamt of that night, but the last memory he has of the night of his 18th birthday is that you promised to not stop liking him after seeing him a drunken mess, and how he so deeply wished you’ll continue to like him forever.
It hits him only a few months later that the thing he so desperately hoped for that night was that you’ll keep liking him even at his worst– that he didn’t drive you away and one day, maybe, you’ll like him more than just a friend.
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to. my first detention
September 1999
Sunwoo was never the one to break the rules. 
Well, if you don’t count that one time he skipped class just because he got too bored of it in the middle of the lecture. And it wasn’t even that hard either– he just asked if he could go to the bathroom, and when he got the approval, he stood up and left, never returning. 
Or if you don’t count that one time he climbed up the ladder on the side of the school building with his friend Juyeon and had his lunch there. Or that one time he cheated on an exam and made a scene about it when accused of the act, leading the professor into letting him off just that one time. 
Sunwoo is usually too lazy to break the rules. Some days, paradoxically, his laziness is what leads him to break the rules. He can’t really help it, even if he tried.
The one time he does break the rules, expecting to be punished by his teacher for coming late to class, it’s not even his fault in the first place. Morning football practice ran late and he didn’t feel like rushing to change out of his practice clothing– see, the laziness is playing a part in this as well– so when he arrived into his Physics lecture, the clock was already 15 minutes after the bell rang for the first period.
Much to his surprise, his teacher didn’t even punish him. “Well, you’re an athlete, so it’s understandable,” he heard, making his lips stretch out into a subtle smile. If he knew that joining the football club would lead him to have such privileges, he would’ve done it a long time ago. 
How did he still end up in detention, you may ask? Well, that’s a funny question.
Your flushed face appears in the doorway of the classroom exactly 2 minutes after Sunwoo does, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Your hair tied up in a ponytail is loose now, stray hairs falling out to frame your face, your school uniform wrinkly, shirt not tucked in properly, as you spit out endless apologies to your teacher about being late for lecture.
“I’m really, really sorry about being late,” you bow, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you look around the classroom with apologetic eyes, “I had cheerleading practice and it ran a bit late, so I didn’t have enough time to–”
“Sit, Ms Y/L/N,” the teacher hums, “if you have time to do any other activities other than being in class, I’m sure you’ll have time to stay after class for detention, am I right?”
“Sir, I really–”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
Now, are you seeing the difference in the way you and Sunwoo were treated? That’s right. It may not look like it, because the young football player rarely puts effort into anything (other than the game), but when something angers him, it’s quite difficult for him to keep it in. 
And that’s exactly why his ass is currently sitting in one of the chairs of his classroom, legs spread wide as he looks around the silent room in boredom. Accusing his teacher for being sexist and holding to double standards wasn’t the best idea, but it was enough to get him into detention alongside you. 
His eyes get caught up with something– someone– sitting two desks in front of him, one to the right, scribbling their homework into their notebook. At least you are using up the detention time for important and useful things, he thinks. That won’t stop him from interrupting you in your task, though. Even better– it encourages him.
Tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, Sunwoo fishes for a pen in one of his pockets, writing a short note that says: Wanna get ramen after this? before he crumbles the paper into a small ball. After watching the teacher for a few seconds, making sure that he’s not going to get caught, he throws the ball in your direction, aiming straight for your head.
He misses. Well, that’s why he plays football and not volleyball– he doesn’t have good aim when it comes to his hands– but nonetheless, the note ends up hitting your shoulder before it bounces off and falls to the ground.
Confused, you look around before you find Sunwoo staring at you, pointing towards the paper on the ground with a grin on his face. You sigh, sending a telepathic signal of ‘you’re acting like a child again,’ straight into his brain before you reach for the paper ball and take it into your hands, fingers uncurling the thin material and reading out the words he’s sent to you.
Only a few seconds pass before you throw the ball back to him– he catches it in his hands, earning an approving look from you at his strangely fast reflexes, making a sense of victory flow gracefully through his veins. A frown settles on his face when he reads out your reply, though.
can’t. I promised Aeri I’ll hang out with her later. we’re going for frozen yogurt.
Sunwoo furrows his brows. Oh how he hates to be denied. 
I can join!! i could use some froyo
You send a tired look to him over your shoulder when you receive the message, rolling your eyes at his comment. It’s obvious that Sunwoo can’t join– he knows it by the look in your eyes. Hell, he knew he wasn’t invited even before he asked– he just likes to see your frustration. Something about the way your face scrunches up, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, amuses him in a way he can’t really describe.
you could’ve gotten yours instead of staying in detention. what was that about, by the way?? I’ve never seen anyone willingly do detention… you must be out of your mind
The message makes him chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. His motives are clear– well, at least in his brain. If he stays in detention, he can see you for some more. Which means he can hang out with you more (or look at the back of your head from afar, whichever you grace him with on that particular day). And he wants to spend as much time with you as he can, well, because… because he just likes to do so. Why?
Don’t ask. He hasn’t thought it out that far yet.
I just like things to be fair. I came late too :(( 
He writes back instead. Fairness is the last thing he cares about if the world is in his favor. If the world is unfair to you, though– that’s another thing. 
weirdo.
You write back. The pen is already in his hand, ink getting hotter as he masters up a reply, when the loud voice of his teacher cuts through the classroom and announces that detention is over and they’re all dismissed. Something in Sunwoo’s stomach drops. 
Sighing, he puts the note back into his pocket (and will forget to throw it out. Then, he’ll find it there after a few days, unravel the ball and read over the letters with a smile. He won’t throw it out then either– he’ll crumble it back and keep it there until the paper wears out and forms into litter in the pocket of his pants). Gathering his things into his bag, he swings the backpack over one of his shoulders before catching up with you, already halfway out of the classroom. You seem to be in a rush to meet Aeri– he understands– but there’s still one more thing he needs to do.
Clearing his throat, Sunwoo approaches you from the back. “Hey!”
“Hi,” you hum, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “Aeri’s waiting for me outside, so I gotta–”
“Wait, I– I have something for you,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Why does he suddenly feel so nervous? The words his sister said to him yesterday keep resonating in his head, and although he knows it’s not true and he doesn’t see you in that way, his stomach churns and he clutches his hand into a fist by his side, a desperate act to ground himself.
“What?” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed, all confused. Sunwoo’s not the one to give gifts– sure, he pays for your meals sometimes, but that’s only because you share them and he comes to the logical conclusion that he eats more of the portion than you do anyways, so it’s only fair.
“Um… well, my sister… she was making those bracelets yesterday and she made me do it with her, because she’s really annoying when she wants to be,” he mumbles, fishing for the bracelet in the front pocket of his backpack, lying straight through his teeth. 
You stare at him with wide eyes, completely unreadable to Sunwoo. Well, he already said it, so he may as well just dig his hole even deeper. The yarn is soft under his touch when he twirls the bracelet in his fingertips, eyes focusing on the shades of red and pink, suddenly too afraid to face you and look you in the eyes. “And, uh… we made too many, so I brought you one, because… you’re my friend, and all,” he mumbles, chewing the inside of his cheek.
His sneakers are oh so interesting to look at in the few seconds he spends waiting for your reply. He feels like he’s in court, waiting for his ordeal– anxiety making him bounce on the tips of his feet, his other hand clutching the strap of his backpack for dear life. 
“Did you make that?” you ask, tone of voice genuinely appreciative.
“Yeah,” he shrugs. 
He did not.
“That’s– that’s really cute,” you gasp, making the boy finally look up. When he finds that the words are addressed to the bracelet his sister made, not his act of kindness, something inside of him gets irritated, but the little devil in his chest leaves just as fast when you meet his eye and take the yarn from his hands, examining the red and pink knots from a closer distance.
“Yeah,” he hums, not really knowing what to say.
“Can you tie it for me?” you ask, offering the bracelet back to the boy and smiling at him, waiting for him to circle it around your wrist and secure it to place with a knot. It’s a bit long, the ends sticking out to different directions, but Sunwoo admits that it does look quite nice against your skin, and that if he forgets about the fact that it was his sister who actually made the bracelet (even though he begged her to teach him for approximately two hours, going as far as bribing her with his snacks), he does feel quite proud of the gesture.
There’s something possessive about the bracelet, he thinks. It's like a sign to everyone that you have someone who cares about you enough to tie it around your wrist. It’s like saying hey, this is my best friend! No one else enjoys their company enough to make a bracelet to prove it, but me. It’s like a silent translation of the heart’s calling: this person is mine. They’re not allowed to take this off until I die.
Sunwoo feels a bit giddy as he watches you admire the yarn around your wrist. You sport the same expression as Eric did when he forced a bracelet out of his sister yesterday– eyes glimmering, the widest grin on your features. While he may be sure what the face meant when it came to his best friend (although he tries to close his eyes from the obvious crush he has on his sister), he’s not quite certain when it comes to you.
In his mind, you smile like this at everyone. You’re just that kind of person.
But oh does he wish you mirror Eric’s feelings on the matter. Oh does he hope you tell everyone he is the one who gave the bracelet to you– he hopes you boost in front of your friends, tell them just how much you like it.
…maybe his sister was right. 
Maybe the bracelet had a deeper intention.
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August 2007
“So,” Sunwoo hums, taking a salty chip from the bowl settled in the middle of the table, looking over at you with a curious gaze, “how have you been?” he asks, chewing as he waits for you to answer.
It’s an easy question, one would think– and it’s true, it’s not the most difficult thing to answer. But considering the circumstances, the fact that you and Kim Sunwoo haven’t seen each other since you both graduated from high school, despite telling each other you’ll stay in contact and see each other whenever you have the chance to– it gets a little bit more difficult. It’s been 6 years, many things have changed, you had your fair share of good things happening to you as well as the bad. 
What do you tell Sunwoo, though– a friend you lost somewhere along the way, much like everyone? Well, you can’t really blame him for growing distant with you– although to this day, you don’t really know the reasoning. He was the first one to leave, and although you always wished him the best, nobody can really blame you for doing your part at flying out of your nest. Everyone has to experience the outside world before they can find their place in it, no? 
It’s not your fault that you weren’t as successful as you wanted to be… 
“Well, you know,” you shrug, “so and so. Many things happened, but I guess I’m doing fine,” you conclude, nodding to yourself.
The face Sunwoo offers you is one of concern. You recognise that this is not really what he wanted to hear– not really what he expected you to say. The both of you were always ambitious, shooting for the stars, so it would be nice to know that at least one of you finally chased down the dreams you’ve had since you were young.
“What about you?” you ask quickly, shielding yourself from more interrogation. “How did football go?” 
That has Sunwoo chuckling, averting his gaze. He takes a sip of the soda placed on his table before he turns to you again and answers the question, shrugging to himself. “Didn’t really go as I planned,” he says, nodding to himself. “Guess I lost many years on it, but oh well. Can’t really take it back now.”
“Don’t say that,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek. The answer he offered you was not surprising to you– not that you didn’t believe in his abilities, not at all. It’s just that by now, if Sunwoo’s dreams came true, you’d be aware. You’d hear about him everywhere. You’d see him on the news, in the paper… It seems like your friend has disappeared out of the spotlight he always wanted even sooner than he could walk straight into the stardom. You wouldn’t say you were keeping tabs on him, no– you just cared enough to try to look for him in every place you could. “It wasn’t lost years. You did what you loved, and you tried your best.”
“I know,” he says, scrunching up his nose in an adorable manner before he sighs, “I’m just moping around. Besides, I quite like the life I’ve had since coming back home,” he admits.
“You do?” you ask, eyes glimmering in the lights. Something in you shifts– moves to a more comfortable place at the information. It’s strange that hearing that he’s doing fine still makes you feel at peace. It’s been years– you really shouldn’t care by now.
“I do,” he nods, “I work at Juyeon’s father’s bakery now. I didn’t really expect to like it, but there’s something charming about it, I’ll have you know,” Sunwoo says, taking another handful of chips into his hand before feeding them to himself, seemingly trying to chase down the tipsiness in his bloodstream.
That drags out a giggle out of you, shaking your head at the news. “I wouldn’t take you for a bakery kind of guy,” you say, “I can’t really imagine you in the kitchen.”
“Well, times change, Y/N-ie,” the nickname slips out between his lips like a punch to your gut, his teasing tone dragging nails to you in a weird sense of nostalgia, “I’m the best baker in town right now. People go crazy over my cinnamon rolls,” he nods, pointing a finger to you as if to prove his point.
“I find that hard to believe,” you squint at him, shaking your head in disbelief.
“You’ll have to come and find out,” he says, the sentence so casual that the contrast of his following statement has your heart drop a little, “well, if you’re… staying around for a bit, of course…”
Humming, watching as his eyes soften at the shift in your composure, you nod in agreement. “I’ll make sure to add that to my plan.”
Sunwoo nods in acknowledgement. Swallowing down the chips that were in his mouth, he dusts off his hands off the excess salt and licks his lips before speaking up again, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “So you’re staying around for a while?” he asks, a little bit cautious. 
He doesn’t really know how sensitive this topic is for you– you don’t even know if he’s aware of your previous whereabouts, if he knows where you left off to and why– but Sunwoo stays caring, no matter the amount of time you spent not talking, no matter the big canyon that slowly formed in between the two of you in the years of no contact. It’s something you’ve always appreciated about him. He liked joking around, but he always knew where the boundaries laid, always knew when the joke went too far. He tried hard to avoid poking around too much, but he always made sure to apologize if he realized he hurt someone’s feelings. He’s a spark of violent fire, but he’s also tamed like a fireplace when he wants to be– warm, comfortable. It’s easy to feel like it’s back in the old times when you’re around him. It’s easy to pretend neither of you ever really left.
“I am,” you nod. “Things… didn’t really work out for me either, y’know,” you chuckle, the dry kind that shows just how bitter you are about the matter. “I went to New York with the internship my aunt arranged for me in KBS, but I guess I just… wasn’t really good enough to keep full-time.”
“Don’t say that,” Sunwoo mirrors your previous statement, an honest attempt at comforting you.
“No, it’s okay,” you laugh, “I stayed abroad for a while, tried hard, but sometimes, it’s just not meant to be, y’know? So after I realized my jobs weren’t making me enough money for a decent living in the States, I came back home,” you say, mouth forming a pout as you speak– the kind that shows you’re lost in thought, making up a plan as you go, “I’ll help my parents out for a while and then look for something to do here, I think.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Sunwoo says, offering you a soft smile. “I… I guess I’d say it’s good to have you back,” he admits, averting his gaze as he says the words, “ever since I came home, it felt like something was missing, so… anyways, you’ll figure it out, so don’t worry too much.”
“Thanks, Sunwoo,” you hum, pressing your lips into a tight smile, heart squeezing a little at his sincerity. It’s strange– it’s been years, having lived through countless different situations that were supposed to change the both of you, shift you into two completely different people– but somehow, Sunwoo still feels the same. Almost as if you two never left. Almost as if you two never drifted apart and instead spent your early twenties side-by-side, just like you always planned on doing.
The boy looks at you from the corner of his eye, a content smile spreading on his lips. You feel the atmosphere shifting, the situation tensing up a bit, and with the discomfort the image of him leaving you alone brings you, the words slip out of your lips with a bit too much ease.
“Would you want to… dance with me? I wanna see if you still remember what I taught you,” you grin, watching as the playful expression mirrors on your friend’s face, a nod eliciting from him that makes you quickly put your shoes back on and get ready for the dancefloor.
“Of course,” he hums, standing up swiftly and wiping his hands on the fabric of his pants before outstretching a hand for you, tone of voice sweet like honey, “my lady?”
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to. my first dance
November 1999
“Who are you asking to the dance?” you question one afternoon, the two of you behind the closed doors of his room. There aren’t many times where Sunwoo gets to invite you over– mostly because he’s too shy to have someone around when his sister is home, and his sister isn’t known to have that many friends to hang out with– so the times where he finds you settled on top of the sheets of his bed, he treasures deeply.
“I dunno,” he mumbles, looking up at you from the comfort of his rug, shrugging, “I don’t really think I’m going, actually.”
“Oh?” you gasp, pouting at the boy. “Why not?”
“I don’t really have anyone to go with,” he says. What he really means is– you’re going with someone else. Sunwoo doesn’t really see himself dancing with anyone else but you– that’s just that kind of bond you two have in his mind. Your friendship is dear to Sunwoo, and the boy can’t think of anyone else he’d like to spend the evening with. 
When his sister argued with him with logical words, telling him that he treasures his friendship with Eric just the same, but wouldn’t invite him to the prom, he just scoffed at her. MB!Y/N doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t treasure Eric in the same way, no matter the fact that they pretty much grew up together. Some things just don’t feel the same way with Eric as they do with you. He feels closer to you, in a way.
“Well, that’s bullshit,” you scoff, shaking your head at your friend, “you’re handsome. And you play football, which is every girl’s dream. I bet anyone would go with you if you just asked,” you propose, pointing a finger at the boy, not really noticing the way he blinks at hearing the words ‘you’re handsome’ coming out of your mouth in regards to him. 
Do you find him handsome? Is that your subjective opinion or are you just objectively saying what you’ve heard in the cheerleader changing rooms? 
He’d like to know. Just out of curiosity.
Sunwoo scratches the back of his neck in nerves, now fully seated and facing you. It’s hard to meet your eye when he talks, his words coming out muffled. “I can’t dance anyway, so it would be no fun for everyone involved.”
And watching you dance with his classmate Shotaro would be no fun either. See, it would be easy for Sunwoo to be okay with the fact that you were going to the prom with someone older (which is practically impossible, since you’re both seniors, just for the record…). He would understand your point, then. It’s easy to be okay with defeat when your opponent has the upper hand, but when you put two men against each other that are hierarchically equal to each other, much like Sunwoo and Shotaro, the poor boy finds it hard to not feel as insecure in his position. 
But with Shotaro being the same age as him and the same amount of popular as him, Sunwoo can’t help but compare himself to his classmate. What does Shotaro have that Sunwoo doesn’t? Is it his smile? Should Sunwoo smile more…? 
It doesn’t really help his case that you’re going to the prom with the head of the dance team. Sunwoo can’t dance… Is it the fact that he can’t dance?
Or are you just going to the prom with Shotaro because he was the one to ask you to go? Sunwoo can’t help but wonder– would you have gone with him, had he the balls and asked you first? 
“What do you mean, you can’t dance?” you say, eyeing the male. 
“Just… never learned to, I guess,” Sunwoo shrugs, “but it doesn’t really matter, since I’m not going, so…”
“But you have to go,” you pout, putting the boy in a difficult position. He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the fact, but your pleading look does wonders to his decision making. He’d commit arson if you asked him to with those glimmers in your eyes. He’d kill for you. Or die for you. Both, depending on the situation. He’d do anything.
“Why?”
“It won’t be fun if you’re not there,” you say, sighing. Your face looks so genuine Sunwoo almost believes it. It makes his heart squeeze and contemplate his decision. “I know Donghyuck is gonna spike the punch, and there are gonna be fireworks,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “and this is our senior prom, Sunwoo… you have to come.”
The words resonate in his brain, making him even more hesitant about his decision. This is your senior prom– the last dance of your high school years. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to enjoy this time with you and his friends, the last chance he gets at seeing you in a pretty gown, all dolled up and smiling from the sneaky sips of alcohol you’ll get with everyone outside of the school gym. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to dance with you, his best friend, and possibly the last time he’ll ever enjoy his evening with the rest of his football team before all of them have to study in order for them to take their CSAT.
Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should go. 
“I’ll think about it, I guess…” he mumbles, watching as your face morphs.
“You guess?” you scoff, glaring at him. “You’ll go or I’ll personally come to your house and drag you there by your hair, you get me, Kim Sunwoo?” you threaten him, having the boy laugh at your outburst. You’re really adorable when you tease him, Sunwoo thinks. 
“Got it, chief,” he says, offering you a playful look as he salutes and lays back down onto the carpet, eyes pressed to the ceiling. “Don’t expect me to dance, though, because I refuse to embarrass myself. I have quite the reputation to uphold, you see.”
Sunwoo hears you chuckle, the noise of his sheets tousling landing into his ears. Before he has a chance to look at you and see what you’re doing, his view of the white wall above is shielded with the sight of your face, hair framing your cheeks as you stare down at him and put out your hands, waiting for him to take them and get up to a seated position. 
“What?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“I’m gonna teach you, come on,” you call him with a motion of your hand, arms still outstretched and waiting.
“Huh?” he squints, watching as you roll your eyes in frustration.
“I’ll teach you how to dance, Sunwoo,” you snicker, watching as the boy slowly takes your hands and lets you drag him up from where he’s laying on his electric blue rug, “so you don’t embarrass yourself.”
That has Sunwoo stuttering, his figure freezing even when you manage to somehow make him stand up in the middle of his room. A million different exclamation marks appear all over his brain, warning him from the upcoming events, but he has no way of denying your proposition now, no matter how hard he tries. “No- it’s- you don’t have to, I’ll just-”
“Okay, so,” you say, dismissing all his previous attempts at stopping you from your quest, “first, you put your hand here,” you order.
The skin of your fingertips touches Sunwoo’s hand, making the boy’s heart stummer in his chest. You drag his palm towards your waist, placing it on the curve of your body. He swears he feels electricity flowing through the contact, warmth radiating off your skin even though it’s shielded by the fabric of your favorite shirt. He gulps as you put your hand on his shoulder, his eyes carefully following your movements, examining every slightest shift of your composure. 
“And then you hold my hand with your other hand,” you instruct, but move to do it yourself when the boy doesn’t seem to have it in him to reach for your palm himself. 
Your fingers interlock with his, making the boy chew on his bottom lip in a sudden flash of nerves. You’re standing so close he can smell your perfume, the scent making his head spin and feel lightheaded. If you made him turn in this moment, he’s sure he’d fall over, weak legs barely holding him up in your close proximity. 
“Sunwoo?” you ask, making the boy gulp before he hums in acknowledgement.
“You have to look into my eyes when you slow dance,” you laugh, the sound soft and airy, but enough to have his stomach feel all weird, like he’s about to throw up. Still, he forces himself to look into your eyes, instantly feeling like you’re hypnotizing him. (He’s convinced he’d jump out of his window right in this moment if you asked him to.)
“Okay,” he nods, standing still, maintaining eye contact. His body is stiff, muscles tense as you just stand there for a moment. Sunwoo battles his inner fight and doesn’t look at any other features of your face– he has a weird obsession with staring at your lips whenever you talk to him lately. He feels like a weirdo every time he catches himself doing it, so he tries to get rid of the bad habit as much as he can.
“Now, you just… kind of sway to the beat,” you say. The boy nods, but his body stays unmoving.
“There’s… there’s no music playing,” he gets out, watching as you chuckle, your lips stretching out into an adorable grin.
“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just… let me just…” you mumble before you start humming a tune– one that makes Sunwoo laugh from how ridiculous it sounds, the notes so unfamiliar to him he’s sure you’re making it up as you go. Before he knows it, you start moving, making him mirror your actions. 
It’s not as difficult as he thought it was, he thinks. You stare at him, all encouraging, as you sway from one foot to the other, nodding at him when you see that he’s following your lead well. Dancing with you suddenly feels like the easiest thing in the world, it feels like he was born to have you in his arms, in the middle of his room as you hum an unfamiliar song to him. He thinks going to the dance won’t be so bad– not if he gets to dance with you there for at least one more time.
“Doing well,” you smile, making the boy feel all warm on the inside. A feeling of victory flashes over him for a mere second. He beams in your considerate words, feels fuzzy under your warm gaze. He feels like he just won the lottery. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.
A boyish grin appears on his face, having Sunwoo shaking his head at how both ridiculous and over the moon he feels right now. The stream of hums coming out of your throat cuts off for a second as you talk to him with an instructing tone, a warm gaze pressed into his features. “So you can either do this, or you can…” the hand that was holding his suddenly untangles itself from between his fingertips (and Sunwoo’s momentarily glad, because his palm was getting quite sweaty– although he admits that it does feel empty now that you’re not holding it), before you place his other hand on your waist as well. 
Something about the pose makes Sunwoo feel strangely intimate, a little bit bashful under your gaze. It only intensifies when your hands go up and entangle behind his neck, bringing you two even closer than before. The proximity has him blushing, red cheeks bringing heat to his face. He prays you don’t mention it– he really doesn’t know if he would be able to talk himself out of this one.
“Or you can do it like this,” you say before you lead the boy again, bodies swaying to an imaginary rhythm. You’re not even humming this time, having Sunwoo follow your movements in complete silence, his aimless movements mirroring your own. He’s surprised he hasn’t stepped on your foot yet when you decide to quickly teach him how to waltz (while also mumbling something about this dance being performed with the previous hand placement). He follows your orders– step forward, close, then another step backwards– and before he knows it, you’re leading him into a gentle turn, rising and falling in a ¾ count.
He’s getting lost in your voice– the softest “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3,” helping him to stay in rhythm– before he’s pulled out of his trance as he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape, entangling yourself into his black locks. The motion has him look back up to your eyes (that have been previously glued to your feet, making sure he’s not stepping on your socked limbs), surprised when he sees you staring at him with a sweet smile playing with your lips.
Halting your movements for a bit, you let out a giggle and take him by surprise when your hand reaches up towards his bangs, ruffling his hair as he still holds you around your waist, the two of you almost hugging in his room. “See? Not that hard. You’re a born natural.”
His heart feels like it skipped a beat, a weird sense of panic enclosing around his chest. He doesn’t know what it is, not really knowing how to name the feeling, but it has him nervously smiling and urging him to escape you– escape your touch, escape your scent, your voice and the way you smile at him like you may feel the slightest ounce of the things he does for you, but refuses to accept on most days.
Rushed movements make him break apart from your grasp, quick breathing making him feel like he might spiral. 
“Hey! We weren’t done yet!” you call after him when he runs towards the door of his room. 
Not looking around, the boy gulps and nervously calls back to you, facing the door. “I’ll be back! I just have to pee!”
The door to his bathroom closes behind him with a loud shut. The boy doesn’t aim for the toilet– instead, he walks over to the sink, turning on the tap and splashing his face with ice cold water. When he’s done, feeling a bit less heated up, he looks up and stares at his face in the mirror. He gives himself some time to collect his thoughts, to hopefully let go of his foolishness.
How many more times will he have to remind himself that he only sees you as a friend?
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to. my first date
January 2000
The snow crunches under his sneakers and makes Sunwoo slip on the cold surface– no wonder his mother screamed at him for not wearing his winter shoes before he went out with his friends. He bets it would be way less difficult to walk in the whiteness of the ground if he had more grip in the soles of his shoes, but oh well– he’s not really good at making clever decisions half the time. Nobody can really be surprised.
Somewhere along the way between the moment he’s interrogated his sister about the reason for her bad mood and the moment where he purposefully let her with his best friend at the top of the hill with no way out (he had a hunch the two of them had some things to talk about, from both of their uneasy demeanours for the last day), he realizes he lost both his sister and his best friend, and while he’s quite certain Eric can find his way home just fine, Sunwoo shivers at the thought of not bringing his sister home to his mother. He’s not quite sure he’d survive that. 
The quest of finding you both begins the moment the friend group reaches the top of the hill. Given his sister’s impulsiveness, she could’ve ran away from home, and that’s not what he wants to deal with on such a pretty winter day.
Sunwoo finds his plan being successful the moment he reaches the hot chocolate stand. The victory he feels after finding his younger sister alive and healthy is quickly overshadowed with the sight of his best friend’s face close to hers, very clearly going in for a kiss. He thinks he has to do something before he is permanently scarred with the image of them two making out right in front of his eyes as he gathers some of the icy texture into his hands and makes a ball, aiming straight at the head of his best friend.
The snow hits the both of them, right in the middle where their faces are supposed to meet. It’s not quite where Sunwoo was aiming, but he figures it’s good enough– it stopped his sister and his friend in the act, and that’s all he really cares about at this moment.
“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” Sunwoo hollers, watching as his childhood friend takes off and leaves his sister alone on the bench to watch the conflict. The rest of the group follows with laughter as Sunwoo gathers more snow, tailing Eric and making sure the boy is punished for whatever he’s been doing.
It’s not like he disapproves. Not at all, actually. He just thinks it’s fun to mess with him a little.
“I didn’t mean to! Hey!” Eric cries out over his shoulder, trying his best to escape the frostbite. Karma is not on his side as he trips over something and falls to the ground, efficiently helping Sunwoo and the rest of their circle to corner the poor youngest, snow hailed on his limp figure. 
One would think the group of them were making a snowman with how they’re rolling the poor boy around in the snow. Juyeon and Donghyuck make sure there’s not a hint of skin unhidden by the ice, making Eric mourn and kick around– he’s left helpless, though, outpowered and outnumbered by his peers. If anyone unknowing was watching the scene, Sunwoo is sure he’d be framed for bullying.
He thinks it’s quite deserved. Why? He’s not really sure why. He just has a hunch.
“Okay! Enough!” Eric mumbles, shaking his head when Donghyuck tries to fit snow into his mouth. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he says, eyes opening wide as MB!Y/N appears somewhere behind her older brother, a teasing pout settled on her face.
“It won’t?”
“MB!Y/N– I– Just help me..?” the boy pleads, making the rest of the group laugh and finally relax, easing the attack. Juyeon hums something about young love, making the rest of the guys roll their eyes on his unusual cheesiness, before Donghyuck taps his teammate’s shoulder, making sure he’s paying attention to him.
Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Look, isn’t that Y/N?”
There are a few ways to catch Sunwoo’s attention. First– you have to mention football. He could spend hours on the topic of who’s the best player– Ko Jongsoo or Ahn Junghwan? If anyone asked him to write an essay on it, he’s quite certain he’d do a great job explaining their techniques and goal statistics for numerous pages. Second– you have to mention food. He’s a big fan of junk food, but ever since his friend Juyeon introduced him to their family bakery, he’s been a big cinnamon roll enthusiast. And third– you have to mention Y/N. 
Just the mention of your name is enough for the boy to stand alert, suddenly all too knowing of his surroundings. He turns his head to look for you, catching sight of your figure dressed in your long coat, standing all alone at the bottom of the hill. There’s an almost bored-looking expression on your face, although Sunwoo thinks there’s a bit of disappointment behind your eyes, making a cloud shade your them and make them lose their usual glimmer. That alone has the boy frowning, and before Donghyuck can say anything more or try to gossip about your sudden arrival, Sunwoo takes off– trying his hardest not to slip on the snow in his sneakers as he runs down the hill and tries his hardest to get to you quickly.
“Y/N!” he calls for you, getting your attention. You turn to him with expecting eyes, watching as the boy runs towards you and does, indeed, slip on the snow.
He manages to save it. Doesn’t mean you didn’t see him falter, though. “Careful there,” you grin, making the boy mentally kick himself in the shin at being uncool in front of you.
Sunwoo glosses over the comment, ignoring the previous two seconds of his life. If he acts like he’s not embarrassed, it might as well come true. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’re hanging out with someone else when I invited you on the phone today,” he says, curious to know why you changed your plans so suddenly.
There’s a hint of bitterness in your composure when you shrug, averting your gaze. “That fell through, and I didn’t wanna… I figured you’d be here, so I came…” you trail off, your half-assed explanation enough to bring the boy into an inner conflict– one part of him feels bad for you, his heart clenching when he takes notice of your stern gaze and the disappointed expression on your face, the other one foolishly happy that he got to see you today, that you went here looking for him.
“Oh,” he nods, not really sure if he should pray more information out of you. He tried to ask you about it when he called you this morning, twirling the landline on his finger nervously when he asked you if you wanted to go sledding with him and his friends. He even mentioned his sister tagging along to make sure you didn’t feel as awkward going– you wouldn’t be the only girl there! You’d get along with her well, he said, not really sure if he was lying or not. Either way, his sister does need her own friends… “Well–” he starts, not really sure where his own sentence is going, before you cut him off with a rushed out sentence, spoken so quickly Sunwoo barely registers it in that confused brain of his.
“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” you ask, eyes big as you stare into his. 
The question takes a few seconds to register in Sunwoo’s brain. He can physically feel the auditory waves entering his ears and converting themselves into electrical signals by the auditory system. The signals enter his left hemisphere– maybe he could point towards the area with his finger if you asked him to, the impact of the question so present in his mind– and then it decodes in the Wernicke’s area, slowly, but surely making more and more sense to him. The boy gulps at the invitation. He understands the question theoretically now, he’s registered it in his brain, but the practical implication of your preposition is still unclear– why in the hell would you ask him to go on a date with you?
“I…” he stutters, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. He feels like a fool– he should’ve said yes a few seconds ago, when you first asked the question– but something inside of him is telling him that maybe his reaction is valid. No one expects their friend to randomly ask them out on the bottom of a snowy hill. Certainly not when he was 99% sure you liked someone else.
“Look, it’s- it’s good if you don’t want to, really, I just… I was supposed to go on a date with Shotaro today, but he never arrived, and I…” you nervously scratch your neck, once again averting your gaze from him, “I guess I was hoping you were in the mood to go out with me, since I got all ready and stuff…” you mumble, your tone of voice breaking something inside of him.
Oh. So you weren’t really asking him out. You just didn’t want to feel like a fool that got stood up. How stupid of Sunwoo to think you wanted to go on a date with him. The two of you were just friends, after all. Best friends.
And best friends are for cheering each other up. So despite feeling absolutely defeated, Sunwoo battles the weird feeling in his chest and puts on his best smile. “Of course! Don’t even mention it. Where… where did you wanna go?” he asks, watching as your face relaxes, shoulders falling back to their natural position.
“Are you in the mood for some ramen?” you ask, eyebrows rising in question.
“I’m always in the mood for some ramen,” he nods. He’s always in the mood for whatever you are.
“Great,” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.
“Great.”
“So… let’s go,” you say, nodding to yourself as you walk away from the hill, having your best friend tailing you, following you towards the ramen place in the center of the town.
There’s a bit of an awkward silence hanging over you as the two of you escape the sledding area. Sunwoo doesn’t even pay his goodbyes to his friends and his sister, but he trusts that Eric can get her home safely when the time comes to head back. The boy mentally curses out Shotaro for standing you up– how does he dare to ask you out and never arrive? He doesn’t care about the possible circumstances of his classmate’s absence. All he cares about is the saddened look on your face and the unusual quietness enveloping your aura. 
“Should I go kick his ass?” he asks, trying his hardest to make you feel better.
“It’s okay, Sunwoo,” you shake your head in disapproval, eyes pressed to the ground.
“Are you sure?” he asks again, not satisfied with your answer. “I’m quite good at fighting, contrary to popular belief, but if things go wrong, I know my friends would have my back,” he says, playfully punching the air.
The little play consisting of him kicking and punching an imaginary figure goes on for a while until he’s satisfied– meaning: until you’re left laughing at his overly exaggerated movements and grunts, shaking your head in disbelief at his boyish antics. Taking his hand in yours to make him stop with the play-fighting, you drag your now interlocked fingers towards your coat pocket, hiding his cold hand in the thick fabric.
Sunwoo’s heart beats fast at that, making him believe it’s going to run out of his chest any minute now– or make him go into cardiac arrest, either or– as he grows speechless, looking at you with big, surprised eyes. You don’t seem to put much meaning to your gesture, going as far as gently caressing your thumb over the back of his palm, his frozen skin growing hot at the contact. 
He’s never held hands with you before– if he doesn’t count the amount of times you dragged him around when the both of you were late for the shared cheerleading and football practice on Tuesday afternoons– and so the intimacy of the act makes him feel strangely weak in his knees. It’s hard for him to take his eyes off you, almost looking like a deer in the headlights to anyone watching you two right now. Sniffling from the cold, you shrug.
“It’s okay,” you smile, sending him a quick glance, “I didn’t really like him like that anyway. It just… feels a bit disappointing to get stood up, that’s all,” you nod.
Sunwoo nods at that too, something in him shifting. You don’t like Shotaro like that? When was this piece of information when he really needed it? (For like the last month, every time he couldn’t fall asleep because the thought of you marrying his classmate at one point in the future haunted him too much and made him want to poke the dance club leader’s eyes out?)
“I get it,” he says, walking along with you. Every time he feels the eyes of someone on you two, he feels his chest filling up with an unfamiliar sense of pride. Something about being seen with you as you’re all dolled up and holding his hand in your coat pocket makes him all giddy on the inside– no matter if this is a real date or not.
Because screw it, Kim Sunwoo is tired of reminding himself that he’s supposed to only see you as a friend. Because he doesn’t.
“I’ve never been on a date before, though, so you have to teach me all about that too,” he hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek. 
That has a giggle escaping your throat, another shake of your head in disbelief at his words. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, but he decides that as long as you’re laughing, he’s fine with feeling the tiniest bit of humiliation. He’d do anything to make you happy, he thinks. It’s a feeling stronger than him and he doesn’t know how to make it go away– he decided to stop battling it a long time ago.
“Just be yourself, Sunwoo,” you say, “that’s already perfect enough.”
Perfect. Sunwoo’s cheeks grow hot at that. He’s happy that it’s cold out– maybe he could blame his blushing on the weather. The boy isn’t so sure you know about the effect your words have on him. He’s always thought of you as perfect– flawless, funny, friendly, smart, kind and… and beautiful– but the adjective doesn’t quite seem fitting when he looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t believe you could hold him to such standards. He’s nothing special. God, he knows he’s not good enough for you– still, he keeps wishing he could be. 
“You look really pretty, by the way,” he hears himself say, the words escaping his mouth before he has the chance to stop them. The tone of his voice is quite unnatural in his ears, softer than it usually is, and somehow, the comment makes you roll your eyes, which he finds to be an unnatural reaction.
“You don’t have to say that just because you’re on a date with me,” you hum, eyes not meeting his. (Which might be a good thing. Sunwoo would like to keep his feelings hidden for a bit longer, and he’s not so sure you wouldn’t recognise the tender inkling he has towards you in his longing gaze.)
“I’m not saying it because of that,” he mutters, voice quiet, yet honest. 
Watching the side of your face, eyes still glued at every feature of your profile, he knows he’s not lying. He finds you oh so pretty even in the faint hue of the winter sun, with your scarf pulled up to the middle of your chin and hair pinned up with a pretty, silky bow. He finds you nothing short of angelic. Perfect. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.
Still, he can’t help himself. To this day, he counts the afternoon he spent with you, eating ramen at your favorite place, to be the first date he’s ever gone on.
Somewhere in the corner of his soul, he begs you count it as real too.
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August 2007
It’s only a couple of days later when you find yourself in front of Juyeon’s father’s bakery, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and gazing at the glass door. The sun is shining strongly down on your skin, making you feel like you’re going to get a sun stroke if you keep standing in the direct light for any longer, and with the pressure of both the weather and your own thoughts, you decide to stop wasting time and push the door open, entering the establishment.
Not really sure if you’re welcome– who knows, Sunwoo might have just been acting nice and civil for the sake of not ruining his sister’s wedding– you prepared a mental shopping list of things you wanted to get at the bakery. You hadn’t seen your parents in a long time, so you thought a few donuts might make them happy. If Sunwoo just treats you like any regular customer when you walk in, you’ll take it as your sign to act like one and let this whole thing go. 
Truth be told, you don’t even know why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you’re promising yourself something more from this… right? 
It’s not like you suddenly felt younger again when seeing him at the wedding. It’s not like the memories choked you up when you went to sleep that night, it’s not like the feelings you had for the young boy suddenly waved at you in greeting, reminding you of just how close the two of you were all those years ago. 
Not at all. Why would anyone even think that?
The ring above the door makes a sound as you walk in, your insides clenching in a weird mix of nerves and anxiety at encountering Kim Sunwoo again. The store is empty when you reach the counter, but you’re soon greeted by the sound of the staff door opening, a tall figure stumbling in with a tray of pastries, yelling out a quick: “I’ll be right there!”
And as you watch Sunwoo with his bangs sticking to his forehead, an apron tied tightly around his thin waist, you feel like he hasn’t aged a single day and you two are still the same teenagers that ran around your school in order to not miss practice. The boy looks up at you from below his eyelashes, a boyish grin taking over his features as he puts the hot tray down on the counter and throws the kitchen towel he’s been using to shield his skin from the heat to the side, greeting you.
“Y/N! It’s nice seeing you again,” he beams, wiping his hands on his apron, gaze gluing to yours and never leaving, capturing you in a sincere eye contact that you don’t have the heart to break.
“Hi, Sunwoo,” you chuckle, pressing your lips into an honest, yet a little bit awkward smile. “How’s it going?” you ask, desperate to keep the conversation going– afraid that if it dies down, you won’t be able to revive it ever again and you’ll just regret it forever. There’s a weird sense of urgency in you, like you have a time limit to figure everything out– like you have to act now, or everything you ever wanted might slip from between your fingertips– yet, the more you watch Sunwoo in the serene atmosphere of the sweet-smelling bakery, you notice yourself relaxing.
“Good! Better now that you’re here, actually, it’s been a slow day,” he muses, nodding to himself. “What about you? Can I get you anything?” he asks, eyebrows raising, round cheeks on full display as he stares at you with an expecting smile.
“I’m doing well,” you nod, humming, “really well… catching up with my parents, settling in and stuff… You know the deal,” you laugh. “I actually came to get some donuts for my parents, sort-of like a thank you gift for letting me stay until I figure out my own place and stuff,” you say, watching as Sunwoo urgently nods with acknowledgement.
“Say less, darling,” the nickname slips out from him a little too easily, a little too casually for the way it captures your heart. It has you nervously shifting from one foot to another, insides warming up with the impact of his fleeting gaze as he moves to get a box from under the counter, moving closer to the glass vitrine filled with the sweet pastry. “Your mum loves these ones,” he points towards the donuts coated with the pink glazing.
It’s kind of weird– how Sunwoo knows exactly what your mother likes, despite him not being around your house every other day like when the two of you were teenagers. It makes you realize that even though you moved away for years, the time here didn’t stop. Everyone moved on with their lives, everyone continued on as if nothing happened. And you can’t hold it against them– you guess you just hate the weird pit in your stomach that opens up with the realization that while Sunwoo knows which pastries your mum likes (most likely because she stops by to buy bread often, taking some treats with her for her and dad while she’s at it), you don’t.
You try hard not to show it on your face, though. Sunwoo continues to pack more donuts into the box, not really attempting to ask you for what you’d like– he just chooses himself, making sure you bring home the best ones of the bunch, the most delicious ones they carry. Letting him do his work, merely watching as he carefully moves the donuts from the vitrine to the box, you hear him continue on with the conversation.
“You came in on the right day,” Sunwoo hums, “Juyeon works tomorrow, so you wouldn’t be able to catch me if you went.”
Ignoring the fact that he sees right through you– sees that your intention was to see him, to have a way to visit him and attempt to rekindle whatever bond you had when you were young– you just chuckle. You can’t blame him for knowing you so well, despite not being around each other for so many years. When you were young and in love, you used to call him your soulmate, after all. You guess there’s always a hint of truth, even in the most lovesick fantasies. “Well, then I’m glad I went in today,” you admit.
Sunwoo smiles at that– the kind of smile you always loved at him, the one where he shows his teeth and his eyes crinkle up into moon crescents. Once he’s done packing your donuts, he puts the box on the counter, showing you his back just as fast when he turns around, seemingly grabbing something else as well. When he’s facing you again, there’s a sweet pastry in his hand, still warm.
“What’s that?” you ask when you notice him offering it to you, eyes peering into his.
“A cinnamon roll,” he says, waiting for you to take it into your hands, “I told you everyone goes crazy over my cinnamon rolls, so I wanna see if their magic works on you too.”
“Is this how you flirt with girls over here?” you chuckle, but take the bun into your hand nonetheless, taking a hesitant bite of the treat. The sweetness melts on your tongue, the warmth of the freshly-baked pastry enchanting you with its taste, something about its essence weirdly reminding you of home. 
“Haven’t tried it before,” he shrugs, “so tell me if it’s working,” he jokes, watching as you chew on the roll. 
“Well, is it any good?”
Humming in satisfaction, delight on the tip of your tongue as you swallow down the heavenly dough, you nod. “It’s to die for, Sunwoo.”
“Told you,” he shoots you a cheesy finger-gun, reminding you so much of your best friend from high school, before he turns and takes a paper bag from somewhere, talking to you as his back faces you again, “I’ll get you some more to take home with you. I bet they didn’t have those in the Big Apple.”
“If I knew I was missing out on these, I would have come back quicker,” you joke, watching as Sunwoo turns to you with an amused look on his face, seemingly enjoying the praise.
The eye contact unarms you again, your composure falling just the slightest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you clear your throat and reach for your wallet, ready to pay and leave so you can think about the interaction on your way home (and overthink every slightest detail, just like teenage you would after every fleeting touch young Sunwoo would send your way). “How much do I owe you?” you ask.
“Oh, it’s on the house,” he says, licking his lips, “consider it a… welcome gift, if you will,” he hums, offering you the box full of donuts and the paper bag consisting his infamous cinnamon rolls, your skin touching just the slightest when you take them from him, but still making electricity jolt through the nerve endings of your fingertips.
“No, Sunwoo, I really can’t-” you shake your head, but get caught off by him.
“Take them, please. You can pay me back some… other time?” he cautiously says, seemingly not really knowing if he’s still within your desired boundaries. 
“O-okay, then,” you nod, agreeing to the subtle invitation– the subtle promise to meet again, the hopeful question leading into something more. “Thank you, Sunwoo,” you hum, smiling as you turn towards the door and get prepared to walk out, giving both of you some time to think about what happened in the last few minutes.
As you open your mouth to say goodbye to him, hand landing on the doorknob, you hear him call after you once more.
“Oh and Y/N?” he says, a confident look suddenly overtaking his features. “I end here at 5, if you’d like to hang out after.”
Unknowingly, a grin appears on your features, the one that’s so strong you can’t really mask it no matter how hard you try– as you nod at him, the victorious feeling flowing through your veins maybe even a bit dangerous. Still, you don’t have it in you to turn the invitation down– you wouldn’t be able to even in your wildest dreams.
This is what you came here for, after all, isn’t it?
“Okay,” you agree. “So… I’ll see you later?”
“See you later,” he nods, teeth capturing his bottom lip. It’s kind of adorable. He couldn’t battle the smile threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth, no matter how hard he tried.
Maybe coming here– coming back home– was the best thing you could’ve done.
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“Wanna come in?” Sunwoo asks. It’s a few hours later– you followed through with his invitation and waited for him in front of the bakery at 5:05 sharp, catching him after his shift. You two took a walk through the whole town, waltzing slowly through his neighborhood until you reached his childhood house. You remember far too many afternoons spent in the comfort of the walls, and although you think it would be nice to revisit those memories, you notice his mother’s car (is it still hers? You have no way of knowing.) in the driveway, and suddenly, you’re too shy to join him as he drops his stuff off in his house.
It’s like you’re a teenager again– except, you never had any problems meeting his mother before. She was a nice woman, although a little busy (you only heard Sunwoo complain about the fact a few times– mainly when he was feeling sentimental or particularly under the weather about something), and she always treated you very nicely. Almost like you were supposed to join the family one day. His sister once asked you if you’re gonna marry him, and you laughed at her back then– you were so young, you didn’t even think of having a wedding with Kim Sunwoo. The funniest thing was the timing: you weren’t even dating him at the time. Or planning to, really. Sure, you always imagined somehow spending the rest of your life with him, in one way or another, but the thought of marriage didn’t often cross your mind. Life is ironic, you think– MB!Y/N was the first one to have a wedding and here you are, retangling your life paths with her brother again. 
So no, you were never really scared or shy in front of his mother. Back then, things were different though. Simpler? You’d say they were definitely easier. You were more extroverted and open, more ambitious and less embarrassed of how your life turned out to be.
Also, you didn’t want to give her any ideas. It’s far too soon for that, you think. 
“No,” you shake your head, hesitating a little bit, “I’ll wait for you here,” you say, watching as he smiles at you and nods, walking inside of the house to drop off his things and change.
You two didn’t really have any plans for the rest of the evening. You told Sunwoo he could show you around town, tell you what changed and what stayed exactly the same, since he came home earlier than you– you bet it could be two or three years ago. He eagerly nodded, although noted that not much is different in your hometown and your walk could turn out pretty uneventful. No plans were set in stone, though.
Nervously shuffling from one foot to another, you decide to walk around the yard. Sunwoo’s house was always big– although it seemed more giant to you when you were a teenager. It’s a strange observation, since you didn’t really grow any more inches since you hit puberty. Your eyes study the flowers in front of the gate, the mowed grass, the big tree in the backyard. If you focus hard enough, you could almost see the two of you laying under it, letting the leaves shield you from the sun, both much younger and carefree than now. Sunwoo would show you pages of his favorite comic books and you’d play on your Tamagochi, making sure it doesn’t die in two days like his did when he first got it. When you turn to your right, you see the garden house you two– sometimes with his sister, sometimes with Eric, sometimes with both of them at once– spent many afternoons in.
There used to be an old, red sofa inside. There wasn’t much space, since it was filled with gardening supplies, Sunwoo’s and MB!Y/N’s old bikes, flower pots, packs of soil and all other things you could need for gardening, but it was fun to hide away from the sun in there and drink iced tea, talking about whatever came to your minds or solving nanogram puzzles in comfortable silence (or occasional sigh from Eric when he got stuck somewhere in the middle of his crosswords).
Your curiosity gets the best of you when you open the door, deciding to see if it’s still the same inside. Your eyes widen when you notice the garden house a little less packed than before– mainly because Sunwoo’s mother no longer does gardening in her free time and buys her vegetables on the market like your mum does, you presume– but instead, it’s full of all the things the childhood you knew so well.
Sunwoo’s old bike– red and a little rusty, but you bet it could still work. The rug they used to have in their dining room is now in the middle of the little garden house, stained with dirt. Next to the usual red sofa is a leather armchair that they used to have in their living room for a while, the dark brown fabric now worn out, chapped and peeling off. In the corner of the room, you find a box filled with various sports equipment– tennis rackets, a yellow tennis ball, a jumping rope, and lastly, a half-deflated football. The sight of it has you sighing a little, reminding you of Sunwoo’s composure when he told you about how he never got to pursue his childhood dream fully. 
Your eyes glaze towards his old skateboard, having you chuckle, the memories of him riding it down the hill in front of his house appearing in your mind. Sometimes, he would be there with his sister and his childhood friend Eric as well (that more often than not let MB!Y/N borrow the board, watching her with lovesick eyes instead of riding it himself), the young boy trying to teach himself tricks he saw on the TV.
“Do you think I still got it?” you suddenly hear Sunwoo ask from behind your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. The male laughs at your shocked face, shaking his head in disbelief at your easily shaken composure. 
“You scared me,” you breathe out, clutching your chest for good measure, to show him how much you really mean it– your heart was racing, and contrary to popular belief, the sight of him in casual attire (a gray hoodie, so similar to the one he used to wear in high school, baggy Adidas sweatpants covering his legs) wasn’t the reason for the little heart attack.
“So did you!” he exclaims. “I got outside and didn’t see you there, I thought you ran away for a second,” he hums.
“As if,” you mumble, “I walked all the way here, why would I leave so suddenly?”
“I dunno,” he shrugs, “you could’ve changed your mind, or something,” he says, his composure suddenly as boyish as when he was just a teenager, something in your heart softening. You guess he sometimes still carries some of the same insecurities he tried so hard to mask when he was young. Some things don’t really change, but you really wish at least this would’ve.
Smiling at him, you shake your head. “I don’t think you still got it, though,” you go back to reply to his initial question, pointing towards the skateboard.
“Well, who knows,” he peeps, “maybe I could do an Ollie, or something.”
“I really don’t think you could, Sunwoo,” you laugh softly, watching him regain his statement competitiveness.
“Wanna bet?”
“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t want you to break your bones, so let’s just say I believe you,” you giggle, watching as the boy mirrors your expression, his gaze softening. 
A short moment of silence overtakes you two as you sigh and look around the garden house, instinctively taking a seat on the red sofa covered in dust. You bet it’s been years since anyone’s sat on it, and you’re glad to be the one revisiting its comfort. It’s like solidifying your return– like the old piece of forgotten furniture in Sunwoo’s garden house is the spawn point of your childhood. “Doesn’t this make you nostalgic?” you ask, eyeing your companion.
“Well, I live here,” he shrugs, “so not as much as it makes you, I suppose. Having you here again makes it more nostalgic, though, I’ll give you that.”
His words have you overcome with something bittersweet. Seeing the town you love so much makes you almost regret you ever left. The rational side of your brain reminds you that you gained a lot of experience abroad, though, and so you settle with being just a little bit remorseful of your past self for being so overly-ambitious. 
“It’s weird,” you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him, the essence of him being your best friend– your first love, the first person you ever felt safe with– overtaking you in the moment of weakness, “it’s like everybody moved on, but I stayed here.”
“Well, not everybody moved on,” Sunwoo hums, referring to himself. “Juyeon stayed, too. Eric and MB!Y/N are moving only a few hours away… Haknyeon lives down the street now,” he points out, a poor attempt at making you feel better.
“Yeah… it’s just… I hoped I would do big things. I hoped we would both do big things,” you say, tone of voice quiet, your eyes avoiding him. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when you share your struggles– at least that’s the way it always was when you were young. The look he offered you always made you feel so tender, so cared for that you wanted to burst out crying. In your age and state, you can’t afford to tear up in front of your ex-boyfriend anymore.
“Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice considerate. “And that’s fine. I wanted to be a star, and I’m not, but that’s okay, because hey… I’m happy anyway. I’m content. And I know that one day, you’ll be too. It just takes a bit of time.”
Snickering, you play with your fingers in your lap, legs plopping up and crossed, striking an almost defensive pose. “Were you… were you embarrassed when you came back?” you ask.
Sunwoo laughs, the sound so heartfelt it makes your insides squeeze. “Terribly. I mean, look at me in my mid-twenties, still living with my mother. Even back then, I felt like a failure. I felt like a disappointment, but… then I realized not everyone had the opportunities I had. Not everyone almost made it professional, you know, and that’s still something to be proud of.”
“I’m still living with my mother, but hey– she’s getting older and the house is big. MB!Y/N moved out, and I wouldn’t want my mum to get lonely… so I think I’m doing pretty well, given the circumstances,” he says. Pausing for a heartbeat, as if collecting his thoughts, he continues. “I think you should find the positives in your situation too. Not everyone got to live in New York... Work for the national TV… That’s still a huge achievement, and I think you should be proud of yourself for that.”
Rolling your eyes– although grateful to hear the words– you snicker. “It’s hard to do that right now…”
“I know,” he nods, smiling when you finally look at him. “It takes time. And until then, well, for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. And maybe… maybe you coming back home is how life’s supposed to go anyways.”
Biting down on your lower lip to stop yourself from tearing up– see, you knew you shouldn’t have looked the boy in the eyes during his little pep talk– there’s suddenly a weight leaving your shoulders, heart softening and growing more tender. Your wounds seem to sting a little less. It’s strange– even after so many years, he still knows just the words you need to hear.
“Yeah,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper, a soft smile playing with your lips, “maybe.”
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to. my first kiss
March 2000
His eyes stay glued to the TV in your living room, the boy almost looking hypnotized as he focuses on the program running, furrowed brows and all, showing his utmost concentration. A sigh lands into his ears, but goes unnoticed when you enter the room, a scowl sitting on your face. “Sunwoo! I told you to watch the oven! What if the cookies burn?”
“Yeah…” he mumbles, not a single word coming out of your mouth truly registering in his brain.
“Sunwoo!” you grunt, but when you get no reply, you just choose to roll your eyes and walk into your kitchen yourself, opening the oven and making sure the cookies you two have been baking haven’t burned down into coal yet. Not long after, you plop on the sofa next to your best friend, tone of voice still showing a bit of frustration at his carelessness.
“You shit on Eric for watching those, but you’re just as bad,” you hum as you notice the kdrama going on in the TV. It’s one of the ones that hardly make any sense and each scene is overly-exaggerated and repeated at least twice to create impact, but Sunwoo finds himself living for the drama. Each argument has him examining the scene, mentally rooting for his favorite characters– and although he is busy with football practice nowadays, he doesn’t skip a single episode of Happy Together. 
It’s not as entertaining as the manga comics he borrows from Hyunjae’s father’s comic shop, but he figures that it’s good enough to pass some time… and indulge over.
“I think they’re gonna kiss,” he notes, pointing towards the screen.
“Oh, good point, Sherlock Holmes,” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. If there was something you’d expect out of your friend, it seemingly wasn’t his enjoyance of cheesy dramas that air in the afternoon hours of the week. 
And Sunwoo admits, he was never the one to enjoy romance. Hell, it was something he always made fun of when it came to his friend Eric– he was not the one to watch romantic comedies, he wasn’t the one to tell girls cheesy lines or bring them flowers on Valentine’s day. He does seem to be enjoying the laughable scenes rolling on the TV a little too much lately, though.
Maybe he should start hanging out with Eric less.
The scene slowly transforms into close-ups of the two main characters, showing them instinctively closing their eyes and leaning towards each other, eyes trained on each other’s lips. It doesn’t take much to predict the next actions, but Sunwoo still finds himself restless in his seat when they finally kiss, legs kicking up and a gasp escaping his mouth. One would think he won the lottery or was just greeted with the greatest surprise ever, with how he’s reacting. None of the two are true, though.
“Oh, wow,” you hum next to him, seemingly not really interested in the drama as much as your best friend is.
“You’re ruining it,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you as you roll your eyes and settle deeper into the couch cushions. 
“Oh, sorry,” you note, but your composure stays a bit annoyed. 
Sunwoo watches the TV for some more– the scene of the two characters kissing stays on the screen, slowed-down and repeated, in the true 90s TV show fashion– before his eyes trail off the device and move towards you, glazing your side profile. He takes notice of your casual attire– you changed out of your school uniform in the time he was supposed to watch the cookies baking in the oven, and something in his stomach churns, making him blurt out the random question that so suddenly appears on the tip of his tongue.
“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t even know why the response matters to him so much– he also doesn’t really know what reply he’d like to hear better, if he’s being honest– but now it’s out in the open and he can’t take it back.
“Hm?” you hum, snapping your head towards him. “Oh. Yeah, I guess…”
“You guess..?” Sunwoo repeats, furrowing his brows. How can one not be sure? 
“Well– yeah. It only happened once, though,” you shrug. It takes everything in Sunwoo to not ask who you kissed and when, or under what circumstances, and decide to despise that person until the day he dies. It’s not his business and he shouldn’t even care in the first place… He can’t say he’s disappointed in your answer– it’s your life and your decisions– but something inside of him screams that now, he can’t be your first no matter how hard he’d try. (It’s not like you’d want to kiss Sunwoo anyway, so he really doesn’t know why he’s making such a big deal about it.)
“What about you?” you ask, the question catching the poor boy off guard. He didn’t necessarily expect you to ask him back– so much to his title of Sherlock Holmes– and the reality that he can’t lie to you takes him out in full force as he bashfully stares out of the window.
“No,” he peeps, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
There’s something embarrassing about admitting to the girl you like that even at the ripe age of 19, you’ve never kissed anyone before. Shame creeps up his neck and adorns his cheeks after the simple word slips out of his mouth, eyes refusing to meet yours.
“Really?” you ask, and you sound genuinely surprised– there’s a hint of Sunwoo’s ego recovering, but he thinks the hit was too hard for him to ever recover.
“Yup,” he says, a popping sound heard as his lips voice out the last consonant, the view of him playing with his own fingers suddenly more interesting than anything else happening in your living room right at this moment.
“I thought– nevermind,” you hum, scratching the back of your neck, “why are you asking?”
“Just… just curious, I guess…?” he stummers, shrugging. 
A moment of silence overtakes you two– enough to make the boy instantly hate everything he’s ever said on the matter. If there could open up a hole in the ground right now to swallow him, he’d jump in with much enthusiasm. Why did he have to ask?
“Do you wanna try?” you suddenly propose, making the boy’s heart feel like it burst and threw him into a cardiac arrest. His hands start sweating, his cheeks tint red and it feels like all oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the living room, his lungs collapsing on themselves.
You seem to try to save the situation, noticing the utter shock on his face. “I mean– you don’t have to, but I… I wouldn’t mind, and it’s– I don’t know… if you wanted to practice with me, or something, I’d be down to…” you stutter, chewing on your bottom lip as you finish the little tangent, terror evident in your eyes.
Sunwoo feels like a little boy that just found his favorite gift under the Christmas tree. Like he found the most pricey toy there, the one he always wanted, and now that it’s there, he’s scared to actually play with it, because he doesn’t want to break it. Much like your friendship, he thinks. There’s too much to lose if he crosses this line, and he’s very much aware. 
But the offer seems tempting. Almost too tempting. God, he doesn’t think he could say no.
He may not be your first kiss, but you’re asking to be his. This sounds like a dream, if he really thinks about it.
“You know what? Just forget–”
“I’d– I’d like that…” he mumbles, trying really hard not to avert his gaze from you.
Your gaze softens, nodding your head. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
“Okay,” you nod again, moving a little closer to him. Your knees knock into the side of his thigh, your whole figure now facing him on the sofa as his legs still point forward to the TV. He keeps staring at you, a little nervous, but expectant. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do it just because–”
“I’m sure,” he cuts you off, watching as your face relaxes, a smile appearing on your lips at the next addition. “I want to.”
“Okay.”
You move impossibly closer, your crossed legs in contact with his clothed skin. He curses the thin fabric of the pants of his school uniform for making him feel every slightest flex of your muscles when you move, making his skin flare up and burn. He keeps staring at you, watching you as you lean closer to him, your faces now inches away from each other. Sunwoo finds himself focusing on every feature of your face, counting the eyelashes framing your eyes, glazing over the sparkles in your orbs. You stay close for a minute, unmoving. 
Eyes locking, Sunwoo finds himself gasping a little, breathing shuddering when he notices your gaze falling to his lips. Your breathing mixes, air meeting his face when you breathe out a minty breeze. His heart is already racing and you’re not even doing anything.
When he finds you finally moving towards him and notices your eyes shutting close, he mirrors your actions, but stays unmoving. After what feels like eternity, he feels something soft pressing to his lips, warmth spreading from that part of his face to the rest of his body. The contact of your lips with his is gentle, like you’re testing the waters, and although the feeling is unfamiliar, Sunwoo decides he doesn’t hate it.
The weird firework show in his stomach actually suggests that he’s quite enjoying it. Your lips break away from his for a bit, rewarding him with only a peck, and before the boy has the chance to think this is it and it’s over, you dive in for more and kiss him again, this time longer, more firmer.
Your hands come up to cradle his cheeks, holding him close. He feels himself burning up, his composure completely crumbling when he feels you smile against his lips. 
“You know you can kiss back, right?”
“Mhm,” he hums, opening his eyes to see you staring at him with a tender look.
“Try it,” you say, hands gently coming up to brush his bangs away from his face. If anyone was looking at the two of you now, Sunwoo thinks they’d conclude that you two were in love.
And maybe Sunwoo was, by the way he was looking up at you like you hung the stars on the sky. By the way he was staring at you with such a vulnerable look he feared you might see right through him, see right to his core and call him out on every unconfessed word hiding in his heart. He looks a little scared, a little tense, still, but his eyes don’t lie. They never do. There’s no one else that could make him feel the way you do.
“Okay,” he nods, moving in his position so he’s facing you, ready for more. 
He mirrors your previous motions, leaning towards your face. He wets his lips and closes his eyes when he’s sure he’s close enough to not miss your mouth, and after another deep breath in to calm his nerves, he presses against you. He feels you freezing under him, a momentary panic spreading all over his chest as he thinks he’s done something wrong, before he feels you kissing him back.
A whole other sensation takes over him when he feels your lips moving against his, his fingertips buzzing when he drags his hand up and moves your hair behind your shoulder, large hand resting on your jaw. He’s not sure if he’s doing this correctly– hell, he’s never done this before– but after you move a bit and entangle your hands behind his neck, pressing against him a bit more firmly, yet still tender and gentle like the first time, he recognises that somehow, it feels right, and he thinks that’s all evaluation he needs for now.
The need for oxygen makes him break away from you, breathing heavily as he opens his eyes and finds you resting your forehead against his, smiling. “Like that?” he asks, shamelessly staring at your wet lips, already yearning for more.
“Something like that,” you nod, giggling. “You still need more practice, though,” you suggest, making the boy frown.
“Was it that ba–”
Rolling your eyes at him, frustrated at the way he always needs everything spelled out for him, refusing to take a hint, you press your lips against his again, teeth clashing a little when Sunwoo picks up the pace and kisses you back. The TV is a mere white noise in the background now, everything around you two disappearing, all of Sunwoo’s senses focused on you and only you. He could get lost in the way you taste– like strawberry bubblegum you bought at the store on the corner of the street– and the way you feel against him– soft, tender, warm.
He feels like he could burst. He knows his hands are a bit sweaty, but he’s only half aware of the fact when his palms move to hold your cheeks, much like you did to him before, and your hands entangle in his hair, playing with the strands.
He could stay like this forever, blissfully unaware of the consequences of this act. He could kiss you over and over and over again, even if it meant he was still bad at it and needed more practice– he could get lost in your scent, in the tender way you hold him to you, in the way you keep smiling against his lips whenever he does something to surprise you: like get a little bolder and angle your head by your chin with his thumb, getting more comfortable.
He’s glad he’s sitting down, because he’s quite sure his knees are too weak to carry him right now. When you break away from him again, lips swollen and eyes blown-out, he thinks you might just be an angel. He’d love to engrave this image into his memories forever.
Although, he’s doubtful that he could ever forget about this. Or anything about you, really.
And even as you suddenly gasp, finally aware of the world around you, running to the kitchen and screaming: “Sunwoo! We forgot about the cookies!”,
he wonders just what more you could teach him about life. He’d follow you to the end of the world if you asked him to, holding your hand in his and not thinking twice. He’d bring you down a star, if you only so expressed you would like one. He’d do anything. 
You taught him what friendship is. You taught him what it means to care for someone. What it means to have someone special. You taught him how to drink (although by scolding him when he was hungover. He felt cared for even with your stern gaze). You taught him how to slow dance– even though you spent the prom with someone else. Just now, you taught him how to kiss.
And although you’re unaware, he’s quite certain that when he’s 19 years old, spending each of his days with you, although unaware, you taught him how to love someone too.
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August 2007
You feel kind of silly, standing in front of the bakery as the sun sets over the horizon, the clock striking near 5 in the afternoon as you gnaw on your fingernails and hesitate a little before coming in. Pushing the door open and slipping inside, the male currently sweeping the floor looks over at you, a look of pleasant surprise sitting at his face and a sunny smile sent your way upon your arrival.
You don’t really know why you keep running back to him. The whole town reeks of familiarity to you, every corner and inch of each street filled with the essence of your childhood and your whole growing up. It’s not like you don’t have anything else to ground yourself back to, but somehow, your inner voice always keeps calling for Sunwoo. It’s weird– it’s been ages and you shouldn’t feel like this around someone who you haven’t even properly dated for that long, if you don’t count the few months before he left– but it’s something you can’t control, an essence you can’t hold back. 
“Y/N,” he calls for you, “what are you doing here?” he asks as he continues his routinal cleaning, putting the broom away behind the counter. 
It’s a stupid question. You bet he realizes it too, but you’re somehow glad he is taking initiative. This way, you don’t have to be the first one to spark the conversation. This way, you know you’re welcome. 
“Oh, well,” you shrug, “I’m… looking for you…?” you say, tone of voice suggesting that you’re hesitant, almost a little shy to admit it to yourself. 
Maybe you’re foolish for feeling this way. Because you know what all those things mean– you know what the lightness in your stomach is, what the giddy feeling resonating through you whenever the male smiles at you is. You know that thinking about someone constantly, more so before you sleep, isn’t an usual occurrence with someone you pay no attention to, with someone you don’t care about. You’ve been in love before– with the same man that’s standing right in front of you as well, funnily enough. You know what this all means.
But with how he’s inviting you in, letting you into his little bubble, you think it’s not as bad of a thing. He’s not pushing you away. He’s not building bridges. He’s the same way he was all those years ago, and you’d hate to find out that all of this wasn’t something more and was just him being nice.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” he chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron still tied around his waist. “I’m off in a few, though, so if you want anything from the bakery–”
“I’m not here for the food,” you laugh, dismissing him with a wave of your hand. The boldness is unusual for the present you– there’s a hint of your past shining through whenever you are with the boy, though. Maybe you like this sense of familiarity. Maybe you like to feel real again– maybe you like to feel like yourself. It’s hard to admit it, but you did lose your sense of identity after moving abroad. It’s hard to stay true to yourself with so many new people around and with so many expectations and responsibilities. The pressure changes you, and you now rely on Kim Sunwoo to bring you back to default– to where you’re supposed to be.
“Okay, then,” he nods, thankfully not making a big deal out of your desperate visit, “what would you like to do?” he asks, eyes sparkling under the lights when he looks at you. It’s like an open invitation– he gives you the chance to tell him how you’d like to spend your time with him. He did this a lot when you two were younger as well. It felt good to have someone that would make the effort to enjoy your hobbies with you– no matter how disinterested he could be in the matter.
“Hang out… I guess…?” you hum, shrugging. You didn’t really have anything planned. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. It’s like the heart’s calling– you don’t know when your inner monologue got so cliche.
“Anything specific?” he asks.
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shake your head in disapproval. You fear that you disappointed him, let him down in some way– you came all the way here, after all. You could’ve made something up on the way, couldn’t you? But still– just like the Sunwoo you once knew, so lively and full of ideas– he just purses his lips for a second before speaking the suggestion into existence.
“Well… do you want to bake with me? Like the old times?” he says, sending you a look full of warm honey.
You wouldn’t say no to that invitation. You’d be crazy to do so.
The Kim Sunwoo you used to bake cookies with in the comfort of your kitchen back home wasn’t so skilled in making the dough like he is now. He wasn’t so good at knowing the recipe from memory, nor was he gifted with the kitchen appliances he has now, all professional and shiny, reserved just for the use of the bakery. You don’t really know if he even had the love for baking in him back then– you just know you two enjoyed your time together, and when you are young, that’s all you really cared about anyway. It didn’t matter that he let the cookies burn sometimes. It didn’t really matter that they didn’t turn out well on some days– all morphing into one big block, making you cut the dough into pieces so you could eat it when you accidentally added too much butter. 
He still looks the same, though. A few years older, but with the same boyish aura to him when he wipes dirty hands on his apron. All grown up now, but still with the same glint in his eye whenever he looks up at you in between your conversations. When you’re with him, you no longer feel the distance between who you are and who you used to be, the distance between you and him. It’s like the old days, but a little better.
Maybe you have more time now.
The two of you work on the cookie dough, enveloped in a comfortable conversation. “You have to add more sugar,” Sunwoo hums from next to you, watching as you work on the mixture.
“Isn’t it funny how I was the one always giving you directions when we baked together and now you’re the one ordering me around?” you laugh, taking the sugar from the counter and sprinkling more in, listening to the opinion of a professional.
“Well, my cookies don’t turn into one big blob of dough anymore,” he jokes, laughing. “Besides, it’s my job now, so you’d kind of expect me to be good at it.”
“You can’t be so sure of that…” you hum, shaking your head.
“Why? Do you have any experience with being bad at your job?” 
“Oh you bet I do,” you laugh, nodding. “I was an intern before, Sunwoo. A colleague of mine once tried to console me by saying being an intern means being bad at the job, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but I still cried myself to sleep multiple nights,” you conclude, thinking back to your New York endeavors.
“That bad?” Sunwoo asks empathetically.
“Yeah. Mixed up everyone’s coffee order on my first day. When I was confronted about it, I tried to play it off by saying I don’t have a good memory…” you muse.
“Well, it’s hard to remember a lot of stuff at once, to be fair–”
“I was getting coffee for three people, Sunwoo. Objectively speaking, it shouldn’t be as hard…” you say, now thinking back to the events of your internship with more humor than embarrassment.
Sunwoo laughs at your story, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not worse than my teammate back in Boston. The first match of the season, he scored a goal against our own team. His reasoning? He used to play against the goalie back in high school, so he got confused.”
The boy takes over at making the dough once it’s the turn to add in the chocolate chips, glancing at you momentarily when you laugh at his anecdote. Watching him from the side, you heave out through your laughs. “That’s actually hilarious,” you get out, washing your hands in the sink. “What about some funny stories about yourself, though?”
“Don’t have any. I’m too perfect to humiliate myself like that,” he notes, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows at you in an ironic expression, nodding.
“Oh, as if–”
“How is it?” he asks you suddenly in the middle of the sentence, seemingly done with kneading the mixture. Sunwoo puts the cookie dough in front of your lips, waiting for you to taste it. You’d do it all the time when you were both teenagers, but back then, the gesture didn’t feel half as intimate as the mere image of it does now.
Locking eyes with the male, you hesitantly open your mouth and let him put the dough into it, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. Sunwoo’s eyes darken, as if he’s just realized what he’s done, the weight of the situation falling down on him as your tongue comes in contact with the skin of his fingertips. Gulping, he watches as you suck the tip of his digit into your mouth, getting all last remains of the sweetness off of it, something in the air shifting towards a direction you didn’t expect from tonight.
“Good,” you nod, licking your lips, “delicious.”
Seconds turn to what feels like eternities as you stop all motion and look into each other’s eyes, finding any hint of disapproval with the so obvious turn of events. His chocolate orbs peer into yours, making you ignite with something close to an urge you can’t control, his eyes anchoring themselves to the curve of your lips when you decide to let go of all anxiety and insecurities and just go for it. The cookie dough was sweet, but you’ve never tasted anything sweeter than Sunwoo’s lips. You might just have to refresh your mind, you think.
Leaning closer to him, your breathing mixing in the few centimeters left between your mouths, you relish in the déja vu this action brings you. It feels like yesterday, yet also centuries ago since you last kissed the male, and although you’re sure you enjoyed it back then, you wish you could’ve told the younger you to kiss him more often, more firmly, with more passion, maybe even sooner. For longer. 
Pressing your lips against his first, almost like always– since Kim Sunwoo was a bit shy with his kisses when you were both just high school seniors– your eyes shut close and everything around you disappears. You guess there’s something about baking that makes the two of you want to feed off each other’s lips– except this time, it’s not practice anymore. It’s not innocent, it’s not clueless. This time, it’s real, alive and passionate. You can’t say you hate the sentiment, the weird parallel your relationship has come to. It’s like you’re reliving your life again, but this time, you know how the story ends– you know how to fix the ending. How to keep him here.
Sunwoo’s more experienced than he was when you kissed him for the first time. He’s less shy and more bold, lips firmer against yours, but still careful and gentle. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw and position you so he has the best access to your mouth as he slips his tongue in, as if chasing down the taste of cookie dough he fed you just a few seconds ago, and although you liked to battle him when you were young, you let him win this time– you let him take you home, bring your mind to where it’s supposed to be.
Hands gripping the front of his shirt, but immediately going to circle around his neck when a particular movement of his makes you moan slightly into his mouth, you play with the hair on his nape and feel him shuddering under your movements, an automatic response that makes fondness spread over your chest. Everything about him is familiar to you– he still reacts the same way to your tender ministrations, he still smiles against your lips when you tangle your fingers through his hair and want to ground yourself in the touch. 
You know him like the palm of your hand. It’s easy to get lost in something you are so familiar with, in someone that was once your everything. It’s easy to indulge too much in something that was forcefully taken from you, to get right back where you left with him, because time and circumstances were never on your side.
A touch of his hand on the side of your neck, lips trailing down your mouth towards your jaw. The boldness, the urgency of his movements is enough to have you turn your back against the counter, his body pressed tightly against yours. His palms under the backside of your knees have you sitting up on the cold marble, his lips never breaking away from your skin. 
You’re enjoying the shift in the dynamic. You’re enchanted with the way he handles you, like he’s been starved of you for years, wanting to chase down all the time you spent away from each other. Breathing heavily, feeling his plush lips sucking down on the sweet spot under your ear, then trailing down the side until he reaches the juncture of your neck, an involuntary “God…” slips past your mouth.
“I missed you,” he says, words muffling against your skin, “I missed you so much, I felt like I was going crazy.”
The confession makes you dizzy, your whole body growing weak. It’s like he knows exactly what words you wanted to hear. It’s like he knows what haunted you all those years, what you kept asking the universe on sleepless nights over and over, praying for an answer. It’s like he knows exactly how to get you close to him, to have you completely let go of the past. 
“I missed your jokes,” he says, planting a kiss on your neck. “I missed your smile,” he presses another one a little more up, “I missed your laugh,” another kiss, now on your jaw. “I missed holding your hand,” a peck planted to the corner of your lips, “and I missed kissing you…” he trails off, pointing his attention back on your mouth, locking the two of you together again, as if kissing you was his new addiction and you were the drug.
Sunwoo’s hot hand creeps up your waist, fingers slipping under the thin fabric of your tank top. The contact makes you shiver in response, your bodies still as responsive to each other as back when you were 19, and when you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth and slip your tongue back into his mouth, you feel the boy tug at the right strap of your top, sliding it down your shoulder. You’re barely registering the bowl of dough to your right, the fact that you’re in the kitchen of Juyeon’s parent’s bakery, or the fact that you only just met the boy two weeks ago for the first time in years. All you focus on is him– his touch, his taste, the way he makes you feel. All you know is longing. The desire.
Before you have the chance to take anything further, the sound of the door opening makes you jump away from each other– your head almost hitting the top cabinets, had Sunwoo not instinctively put his hand there to shield you from the impact. Before you get a chance to register what’s happening, a familiar voice calls for you, their tone a little guilty and bashful. 
“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt, or anything–” Juyeon peeps, clearing his throat. 
Glancing at Sunwoo, you see his cheeks redden at being caught by his older friend, yet his eyes still roll in annoyance at the interruption. You can’t help but try to hide your face into his shoulder– it’s not like you’re embarrassed of being with Sunwoo, you’re just embarrassed that it had to happen here, of all places.
“Well, you just did,” Sunwoo grunts, frustration coating his words.
“I’m just here to grab something,” Juyeon hums, almost racing through the room to get to the fridge on the other side of the kitchen, taking out a carton of milk from the inside and showing it to the two of you. “This is gonna go bad soon, so I’m taking it home to use it. Uhm.. anyways, well, don’t let me stop you in anything… bye!”
Neither of you greet the male back, instead sharing a meaningful, knowing look between each other. The view of your first boyfriend with his lips puffy, cheeks flushed and hair a little disheveled makes your senses go crazy, and although you’d like to continue what you started, you don’t think now is the right time or place.
Hopping off the counter, you smile. “So… where were we with the cookies?”
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to. my first girlfriend
May 2000
Eyes trained on the ball, feet restless as he runs across the field to retrieve it and pass it to one of the shooters– either Donghyuck or Jinyoung, the more capable ones of the team– Sunwoo finds himself completely focused on the game. It’s one of the last matches of the season, and since he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to play his favorite sport again– he hasn’t received a verdict on the university applications he sent yet– the boy figures he should enjoy each game like it’s the last. Because who knows– one day, it may as well be, and if he’s not prepared for it, if he has any regrets, he knows he’ll take it harder than he’s supposed to.
Kim Sunwoo’s position in football is midfielder. While Eric once told him that it’s a loser position, since he’s not the shooter and he doesn’t score many goals (which is a lie– the boy had him know he scored his fair share despite his defensive position on the field), Sunwoo’s grown to love it. He’s the one that’s supposed to counter all attacks on his teammates. He’s the one that runs after the ball and passes it to the shooters, so technically, he’s the reason why any of them even have the opportunity to score. His position is as important as any other player's, and he takes pride in the compliments he gets from his coach whenever he does particularly well at a game. 
Sunwoo loves football. He’d say his first love is football, but something inside of him keeps telling him that that’s a lie (don’t ask him why. It’s a secret.). It’s the first game he’s ever been exceptionally good at, the first thing he could do for periods longer than a few weeks. He’s been playing with the ball since he was young, and although he never had a father to kick the football around with in his backyard, his sister was always happy to be included in anything he was into at the time– when she got older, she even got better at being his designated goalie, although less interested in the play itself. Sunwoo feels like he lets go of all worries when he plays. It’s good to have an escape, something to keep his mind occupied. He doesn’t have many things to worry about, but he finds that kicking the ball around, making strategies in his brain on how to get it to his teammates the fastest, is enough for him to get out both his frustration and get something nice out of it. He enjoys the thrill. He enjoys the excitement, the shared joy of the team whenever someone scores a goal. He is addicted to the ecstasy in his veins whenever his team wins.
It was easy to determine that if Sunwoo wanted to do anything for the rest of his life, it would be football. It’s what he enjoys, what he loves. It’s what he’s good at. 
It’s strange to imagine a time when he wouldn’t play football. He doesn’t even want to imagine it in the first place– it makes a chill run down his spine and an unsettling feeling churn in his stomach. In a perfect world, he’s always a football player.
Everyone keeps telling him he could easily make it professional, if he tried. 
Football is how he met most of his friends. It’s how he met Juyeon– he was the captain of the high school team when Sunwoo was a sophomore, and he found that hanging out with the older boy was easy and fun. It’s how he met Donghyuck and Jihoon (before the latter dropped out of the team after a few months). It’s how he met you. 
His coach always warned the players about dating the cheerleaders. For his coach, it wasn’t right to do so– it would throw off the dynamic of the game. “Nobody wants their ex to stare at them during their game!” the coach had said– not even thinking of the possibility of any of those teenage romances to last. Sunwoo only laughed back then. It wasn’t something he should be afraid of– he never liked anyone on the cheer team.
Until… until he did. Sunwoo met you on one sunny day, at your joint cheer-slash-football practice. You pointed out that the number on his jersey– 03– was your favorite, and the boy felt himself smile. Ever since then, he never wore any other number. He considered it to be his lucky charm. What started as friendship blossomed into something much more for the boy, and somehow, he can’t even remember when the feelings he had for you morphed into adoration. He doesn’t know when they shifted Into absolute enchantment, or Into a silly crush– he doesn’t know when he started seeing you in a light that was more romantic.
Wearing your favorite number on his back, Sunwoo runs towards the opposing player. There’s something akin to an angry face playing with the man’s features, and Sunwoo imagines it’s because of the very clear lead his team has on them. Sunwoo makes sure he doesn’t slip as he tackles the opposing player– he swears he heard someone call the shooter Jaechan– and as soon as he secures the ball, Sunwoo aims to forward it to his teammate.
The screams resonating all around him– although he tries hard to filter them out to focus on the game completely– suggest that it’s only a few moments before the game is over. It wouldn’t matter even if they didn’t score the goal, but something inside of Sunwoo’s heart leaps at the thought of winning with such a lead. The boyish excitement only grows when he watches Donghyuck retrieve the goal and run towards the goalpost, neon-orange sneakers shining through the green grass.
“Come on!” Sunwoo cheers, a hopeful spark lighting within him as the boy prepares to shoot, eyes quickly scanning the field.
And Lee Donghyuck almost never lets him down. Maybe that’s why he liked the boy so much in the first place– Sunwoo didn’t like players that dismissed the chance he won for them. He liked the skillful ones. The ones that knew what they were doing. (He also liked Donghyuck’s humor. He found himself grateful to have a friend so funny. He made even losing feel like it wasn’t such a big deal.) 
Choosing the golden shooter proved to be a good idea once again– Donghyuck, number 35, shoots for the goal and the ball gets in. Seconds after, the sound of a whistle is heard across the place, the game over with Sunwoo’s team winning 4:1.
Everyone cheers– yells from the audience are heard, excitement reeking through the air. The whole football team gathers around, sweaty bodies sticking together as they perform some sort of a cliche group hug, arms patting each other’s backs and complimenting each other’s play. 
The commotion dissolves shortly after. Sunwoo finds himself trying to catch his breath, eyes looking across the space for someone in particular. His heart leaps even harder when he finds you standing at the edge of the field in your cheer uniform, a big smile plastered on your face. Your eyes are glimmering as they meet with his. Your hair is a little tousled from the routine you just finished doing and there are smears and smudges on your cheeks from the face paint you used to symbolize the team’s colors– blue and gold. Over-all, you look ecstatic.
Sunwoo finds himself running over to you before he even registers that he’s going to do it. He’s like a fast, unguided missile, the goal of getting to you as fast as possible being the only thing resonating through his excited mind.
“Good jo-” you grunt as the boy finally gets to you, words cutting off when he (maybe a little harshly) puts his arms around your middle and picks you up, twirling you around. You screech a little into his ear and he finds himself laughing at your reaction. It’s like a runner's high– he feels like right now, he is capable of everything. 
“Okay! Okay! Put me down!” you laugh when you start to get a little dizzy. The boy complies, since he’s running out of strength to carry you anyways, and puts you back to your feet. His arms stay tightly wrapped around your body, though, locking you into a secure hug. 
“We won!” he cheers, the brightest grin settling to his lips as he announces the obvious. 
You beam at him, eyes soft and crinckled into little moon crescents, a dumbfounded smile playing with your features. “I know, Sherlock,” you dismiss him again with the teasing nickname, shaking your head in disbelief, “I was here. Cheering for you,” you say.
And sure, Sunwoo knows that by you, you don’t necessarily mean him in particular– more like cheering for the whole team, the whole 11 players on the field– but something about the sentiment makes his stomach feel all light and a slight blush spread over his glowing cheeks. You were here– cheering for him (and his team) – and although you’re here out of your own will, out of your own devotion to your hobby, he somehow feels grateful for your presence. You never miss a game. You went even when you caught the flu and felt too sick to do your cheer routine– you just sat on the bench and rooted for your best friend. (The team lost that match. Sunwoo felt a little bad for tugging you out of your bed for it.)
The boy studies your face for a while. You look perfectly content in his hold. You fit perfectly into his arms, he thinks– almost like you’re supposed to be there all the time. He should hug you more often, he decides. Sunwoo foolishly finds himself focusing onto your lips– he blames the shiny lipgloss you put on today– the words coming out of your mouth not quite registering in his brain. “As I was saying, good job! The whole team, but you especially. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you really shined in this game. I’m really prou–”
A single peck is pressed to your glossy, sticky lips, cutting you off in the middle of the sentence yet again. Sunwoo surprises himself with the gesture– he was always too shy to initiate something with you, too hesitant to even touch you sometimes– but the euphoria is still playing with his senses, clouding his brain. He doesn’t think of consequences.
He can’t control himself anymore. It’s been weeks since you two kissed for the first time– exactly 4 and a half weeks since you taught him how to do so– and since that afternoon, he found himself thinking about it every single day, every single minute, all. The. Time. You two haven’t spoken about it since, making the poor boy a little disappointed, but he respected your decision. He knew that you didn’t particularly reciprocate his feelings, but he still expected your dynamic to shift. At least a little bit. 
And although he should’ve been glad nothing changed and your friendship didn’t crumble because of a simple kiss, he found himself desiring to kiss you every time he saw your face. 
You peer at him with eyes wide open, mouth a little agape. Sunwoo doesn’t really know how to read your reaction– you didn’t look particularly happy, but you also didn’t push him away– and so in the moment of panic, he begins to backtrack, his arms untangling from your sides.
“I- I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundary, or if I–”
You’re not fans of letting each other finish their sentences today, it seems. Before Sunwoo gets a chance to put a bigger distance between the two of you, he watches as you get on your tippy-toes and press a tender kiss on his lips– more firmer than the one he dared to give you, a little bit longer, yet still sweetly short. There’s something soft and gentle in your gaze when you pull away and press another peck onto his face– the tip of his nose this time– and Sunwoo almost physically feels his knees turning into jello, his own celebratory firework show erupting in the pits of his stomach.
“So, as I was saying,” you hum, hugging the boy around his neck, “you did well. You looked good out there,” you peep, the sparks in your eyes making Sunwoo’s skin burn with their contact.
That day, you teach him that to be loved is to have someone sharing your achievements with. To be loved is to be adored, to be loved is to have someone watching you and cheering you on, to have someone to run to with good news.
Kim Sunwoo’s football team won the match, but the boy thinks that perhaps, that day, he won something even greater.
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to. my first lover
August 2000
The admission papers arrive at his house the morning he’s supposed to sleep over at your house. Your parents decided to take a trip to your aunt’s place for two days, so you invite the boy into the comfort of your home for the weekend– as far as Sunwoo’s mother is concerned, he’s sleeping over at Juyeon’s. He doesn’t have the boy covering him, but he’s also sure his mother won’t try to check if he’s telling her the truth. He’s not banned from having a girlfriend– he just doesn’t want his mum to get any wrong ideas.
He finds the envelope in the mailbox when he comes home from school, and something in his stomach drops when he sees the american stamp on the top right corner of the white paper. He debates on opening it, but every time he hypes himself up enough to tear the top of the envelope off, a little anxious voice on his inside tells him to wait. 
Although reluctant to admit it to himself, Sunwoo is a little scared to see the result of his university application. Before he leaves for your house, he puts the envelope into the front pocket of his backpack and tries to forget about it. It works a bit better when he sees your face, hears your laugh– when he spends time with you and you two play the new board game you got from your cousin. Still, the weight of the envelope keeps bugging him in his mind no matter how hard he tries forgetting about it, and you finally notice (or finally bring it up after hours of ignoring his weird mood) when the two of you lay together in your bed in the evening, both facing the ceiling.
“Is everything alright?” you ask. 
“Hm?” Sunwoo hums, lost in thought. “Oh, yeah,” he nods, “don’t worry.”
You don’t seem convinced. Shuffling a little in your sheets, you turn towards him and move your body closer to his, your arm suddenly draping over his middle. A tender kiss is placed on his temple, almost making him crumble under the gentle care, and your voice earns a concerned kind of timbre when you speak to him. “You can tell me,” you hum, “boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to tell each other things.”
Boyfriends and girlfriends. Sunwoo feels himself soften under the possessive title. It has been close to 4 months of you dating– starting with the winning match in April, progressing slowly through the summer break– but the fact that you’re his partner is still a little unbelievable to him. Sometimes, when he hears you call him your boyfriend, he still gets a little bashful. He still feels like he’s been told the greatest news of his life. 
Maybe it’s the nature of this sentiment that has him slowly unraveling to you. And maybe, it’s because he’d tell you anyways– you’d be the first to know. He was just waiting for the right time to bring it up.
“The reply to my university application came in the mail this morning…” he trails off, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
You plop up on your elbow, watching the boy from above. Eyes big, you peer into his face. “And?” you ask, an expecting gaze glazing his features.
“I… I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I was too scared to open it alone.”
“O-Oh,” you nod, furrowing your brows at him, “well, it’s okay to be scared. I believe in you, but even if it doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, I’m still proud of you for trying,” you say, a gentle tone of voice cooing at him, like the nature of the way you play with his hair, wanting to make the boy relax from his anxieties.
“I have the letter here with me,” he says, swallowing, “in my bag.”
“Do you want to open it together?” you ask, watching as the boy nods.
He’s getting off the bed in no time, wearing just sweatpants and a baggy shirt to sleep in, grabbing his bag from the corner of your room and unzipping the small compartment at the front. His fingers take the envelope out, legs walking him over back to your bed, your figure now sitting against the headboard. Sunwoo finds himself mirroring your position as his fingers turn the little white thing in his hold with much stumbling, preparing himself for whatever answer awaits him inside.
Glancing at you, seeing you looking at him with an encouraging expression on your face, Sunwoo takes a big breath in and out to calm his nerves before he tears the top open and takes out the expensive-feeling paper. Not stopping his actions anymore, knowing that if he takes another moment to himself, he won’t be able to read the letter, he unravels the note and lets his eyes skim over the words.
Before he even has a chance to register the sentences written down in the letter, before he can even let his mind accept the result he’s given– ‘we are pleased to announce that you were admitted to the athlete scholarship program…’– he feels a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders, jolting him awake from his thoughts.
“You made it! Oh my god, you made it!” you cheer, excitement taking over your whole body as you shake the boy in your hold from side to side. The reality still isn’t quite settling in for him, so he just lets you do whatever you please– which includes all of the following: screaming incoherent words into his ear when you hug him closer to your chest, planting a kiss to his cheek and throwing your hands up into the air in a winning gesture. 
“You made it, Sunwoo,” you repeat, this time a little more collected.
Sunwoo finally allows himself to put the letter away and look into your eyes. “I made it,” he sighs, a soft smile playing with his features. 
“You did!” you nod, grinning back.
It’s strange. The first step towards Sunwoo’s dream is now complete. He got admitted to the university of his dreams– the one that’s good for athletes, the one that is supposed to shoot him towards stardom. He has the opportunity to take classes there and train with some of the best aspiring players in the whole world. He has the opportunity to move out of the country, live at dorms in Boston, and most importantly, he has everyone’s support. 
There’s nothing more a boy his age could want more. He has everything. His whole life ahead of him, only the brightest future waiting for him at the end– only if he keeps trying hard and improving. He’s happy. Don’t get him wrong– he really is. Somehow, though, it all feels a bit scary.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?” you ask, a pout taking over your once excited features. The amount of worries you have over Sunwoo gets bigger and bigger the older the two of you are. There are only so many things that can go wrong when you are a teenager, but now that you’re adulting, the list keeps getting longer.
“I am,” he nods, forcing a smile onto his lips.
“You don’t seem excited,” you argue.
“I am! I really am,” he says, trying to battle with himself.
“What is it?” 
“What is what?” 
“Come on, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “I can tell when something’s wrong. You don’t have to hide it from me, because I’ll know anyway. What is it?” you insist, staring the boy down with an examining look.
The boy sighs, shrugging to himself. “Well,” he starts, “the school is in America.”
“And?” you start, furrowing your eyebrows. “We knew that when you applied. Why is it such a problem now?” you ask, genuinely not grasping the whole situation.
Sunwoo chews on his cheek for a little while, plays with his fingers in his lap. A part of him is telling him that he both looks and seems foolish– because you’re right. It was his dream, he is excited, and this is good news. But still, there’s something he didn’t really think of when applying. Well, he did. He just thinks that the fact that him being accepted wasn’t really a realistic idea, no matter how hard he wished and prayed for it, so he didn’t have the need to think about it so seriously back then. Now it’s here, all real, and it’s a struggle he didn’t really grasp that he was going to have to go through.
“Well,” he starts again, still avoiding your eyes, “that means I have to move. And we won’t see each other for a while.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence following his confession– one in which he contemplates all possible reactions you might give him, some with truly catastrophic endings– but after what seems like eternities, he hears your soft, gentle voice. “Is that what’s making you so worried?” you ask.
“Kind of,” he nods, feeling his cheeks redden. You handle him with so much care– sometimes, he doesn’t know how to react.
“Awh,” you coo, taking his hand into yours, preventing him from picking at the skin of his cuticles until they bleed– an action he always does and you keep scolding him for. “Sunwoo, we knew about this when you applied. I am okay with you going away. Sure, it will suck, but it’s only for a little time, and I can come visit you there and you’ll show me around and stuff…”
Sunwoo presses a tight-lipped, hesitant smile to his lips. He feels reassured.
“And we’ll call, and it’s going to be fine, because this is good. This is good news, Sunwoo, and you’re gonna do great, and you’re gonna be a star, and I’ll be so, so proud of you,” you hum, voice tender and caring, doing your best at consoling the boy.
“I’m already so proud of you now, y’know?” you hum, squeezing his hand. “Everything will be alright, so don’t you worry.”
Sunwoo’s arms reach out to envelop you into a hug. He once again recognises how easily you fit into his arms, how perfectly you shape into his skin, and when he burrows his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent, he feels your lips reach into his hair, planting a soft kiss into it. Your words did more to the boy than only consult him– they gave him hope, they gave him joy, they made him feel like perhaps, this is not such a terrifying occurrence. And it really isn’t– it’s quite possibly the best thing that he’s ever achieved, and the circumstances of him leaving don’t seem as horrifying to him now. 
As long as he knows that you have his back, he thinks he can do anything. And what’s 3 years abroad against the 4 years he’s known you?
When you pull away, you press your lips against his, the contact making his muscles finally relax and his mind let go of all the worries. There’s suddenly nothing in the world that could make him falter, nothing that could make him worry or stress or fret or change his mind, because he has your support, and you’re here with him, promising him that you’ll always be right by his side, wherever he is.
Your mouth molds against his, the familiar motion of your lips against his still surprising him sometimes, still making him curious even after those months. He’s been dating you for some while, but he still likes to explore what makes you crumble under him, what makes you hum into the kiss, what makes you tug him closer to you– it’s a fun game to him, trying to figure you out completely. 
He still has some time, but it’s like he is trying to engrave those moments into his memory before he no longer can experience them first-hand as easily.
He goes out to explore again– his tongue gently inviting itself into your mouth with a swipe of your lower lip, relishing in the way your composure falters a little bit, letting him be in charge. You were always the more experienced one out of you two, so Sunwoo often shied away from being the one dominating intimate situations– afraid he’s not good enough, too inexperienced, too immature for you– but in the rare moments he does take the lead, your reactions give him a new source of confidence. 
His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, nose pressing against your cheek as he angles you so he has more access to your lips. Something about his ministrations makes you forget to breathe, breaking away from him in a search for much needed oxygen, but Sunwoo acts like he’s been starved of you, latching his lips to the trail from your mouth towards your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses to your soft skin. He faintly remembers the time you gave him a lovebite that one time you came over to his house to work on homework together, sucking and biting at his neck (and although he enjoyed seeing the possessive bruise on his skin whenever he saw himself in the mirror, he wore the strings of his hoodies tightly tied to his neck, shielding him from being teased by everyone– but mostly Eric). He tries to mirror your motions, recreating the action to the best of his abilities.
He hears you grunt, making him fear that he’s doing it wrong– a momentarily panic settling in his chest screaming at him that he hurt you– but the worries are quickly dismissed as you move impossibly closer to the boy, straddling his lap and threading your fingers through his hair, keeping him close. 
Humming under his touch, Sunwoo gets a kick from hearing the sounds coming out of your mouth. It’s like a reward– it’s like the praise he goes after his whole life, like validation of his actions being satisfactory for you. The pressure of your body against his lap makes him feel hot all over, sweaty hands holding you by your sides. Every slightest shift of your figure against his makes him shudder, composure faltering when you move in a way that has his breathing particularly quicken, a bundle of nerves forming in his stomach from the newly found hypersensitivity. There’s only so much fabric shielding the two of you from each other, and just the thought of it is slowly driving the boy crazy.
Pulling away from your neck, admiring the artwork he managed to portray on your skin, he feels you pulling him up to meet your lips again, heated, firm kisses shared in the silence of the room. He feels your hands resting on his abdomen, feeling him up for a moment before you sneak them under the hem of his shirt, dragging your nails against his skin. 
Sunwoo hears a sound escape his throat at the contact, making him instantly feel foolish– until he feels you smile against his lips, following your ministrations by mirroring his previous actions and kissing down his neck, finding all the spots that make him the most reactive– like the place under his ear, the juncture of his shoulder. You revisit all the places you’ve tested before and perfected your aim to make him efficiently crumble under you. Sunwoo finds himself losing the initial control he had over the situation, instead letting you take over and lead him, much like you’ve done in most areas of his life. He likes to be your follower. He likes to see where you want him, where you need him, he likes to comply. It’s more comfortable for him this way. It makes him swell with pride when he makes you happy.
Another shift of your hips against him has Sunwoo digging his fingers to your side, whole body feeling like it’s electrified under your touch. Placing a soft peck to the spot you’ve had your attention on, you mumble into his skin. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Sunwoo swallows, noticing you leaning your forehead against his tenderly, eyes meeting. 
“Are you sure?”
He nods. He’s never been more sure about anything in his life– he enjoys your company, he loves your touch, the way you make his every sense heighten, his heart beat quicker. Still, he feels a bit nervous at the prospected events. “I just– I’ve never done this before,” Sunwoo whispers the obvious, watching as you carefully observe him.
“Sweetheart,” you tenderly call, placing a soft peck to his lips. “That’s okay. Me neither, but we could… we could try and see where this leads us, if you’d like?”
The sweet pet name alone makes the boy let go of all his worries, of the stress and nerves he’s been holding on to for the past few weeks. You hold him like he’s going to break, and Sunwoo’s never felt so loved before. You reassure him that it’s going to be okay. You are there to remind him that life isn’t so hard, as long as you’re by his side.
“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. 
“Okay,” you repeat, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him again– it may as well be for the thousandth time. Truth is, while he tried to keep up at first, Sunwoo lost count a long time ago.
Everything there is to know about love, Kim Sunwoo learned from you. You showed him the childlike playfulness during your dates. You taught him how to kiss, only to take advantage of his newly found skills and keep them all for yourself. You showed him what it is to share joys, dreams, but also worries together. You were his first crush, date, relationship– and now, his first lover.
In the comfort of your childhood bedroom, holding you closer than ever, Sunwoo dreams of eternity with you. He doesn’t realize what a foolish thought it might be. Somehow, he’s got a feeling that no matter what it is, you two will figure it out. You always do.
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to. my first love
September 2000
Muscles sore and whole body heaving in pain, Sunwoo trails inside the small bungalow the university gave him as student accommodation, dropping his duffel bag to the floor. His face is pulled into a small frown as he enters the house and his roommate can’t help but notice. “Everything alright?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Sunwoo hums, nodding at the question. He has 3 assigned roommates– all male, all around his age. Sunwoo’s english isn’t bad, but it also isn’t that great either. He knew that this was going to be one of the main concerns of him moving out abroad, but he figured that the more you encounter the language, the more comfortable you get with it. Due to this, though, the two American boys he rooms with– their names are Josh and Sam– aren’t as close with him. Sunwoo doesn’t really blame them. It’s not like he tried to get close with them anyway. He talks much more with Mark, the one year older boy that’s also Korean, but has been living in the States for years now. The language barrier is nearly nonexistent there, and so he feels much more comfortable.
Not comfortable enough to vent to him about his problems, though. It’s good to share a laugh with Mark when they eat breakfast together in the kitchen, but he won’t go on and talk his ear off about his homesickness, for example. Sunwoo wouldn’t talk to him about the weird, unsettling feeling in his gut whenever he takes the bus or walks down the street, not recognising every face he encounters like he did back home, in his small town. He won’t tell Mark Lee about how much he misses Korea– he’s sure the boy has his own things to worry about. Besides, it’s not like Mark talks about personal stuff with him either. After four days of living here, he can’t say their relationship got to the level of going deep with their personal lives.
And so, Sunwoo walks up the stairs in silence, not giving Mark more information about his mood. Each step up hurts, since the training is twice as demanding as it used to be at home, making his muscles sore and his back hurt terribly from the stone hard mattress in the bed of his new home. He is willing to endure it, but he also has the terrific need to complain about it to anyone that would be willing to listen.
He should start writing a diary, he thinks as he stares up on the ceiling, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It sounds good enough to channel his feelings out into while also not being a bother to anyone else. Besides, he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s having a hard time here in Boston. This was all his decision, his dream, and sometimes, things are going to get difficult. And that’s okay. Sunwoo just… feels like he lacks the support system he once had back home in Korea. Like someone took it from between his fingertips, forcefully kept it away from him, locked somewhere miles away. Maybe the person who did that to him was himself all along…
Which is why he doesn’t deserve to whine about the fact that he feels terribly lonely. He did this to himself. All him.
If he had a diary, he’d write about the terrible mattress first, he thinks. Then, the weird weather around here– it’s always hot, but not humid. It doesn’t rain as much. He kind of misses the rain. 
If he had a diary, he’d write about how he misses his old coach. The high school coach that always made sure the game was fun, yet productive. He misses his teammates as well. Their team never did big things, but he felt like they were some sort of a family. They knew each other well on the field. They had chemistry. They had fun.
He’d write about how he misses his annoying little sister. How he wishes she would appear in the doorway of his room and talked to him about the stickers she still collects, or dragged him to make another friendship bracelet together. How he feels bad for leaving her all alone back home, even though he was never the one to share his brotherly love for her so outwardly growing up. He feels a sort of appreciation for her that he didn’t quite understand when they were little. They are right when they say your sibling is your first best friend after all. 
He’d write about the second best friend he’s ever made, Eric. He’d write about how he longs for his presence, his encouraging words. His funny remarks, the pranks he’d pull on him. How he always appreciated him being just across the street, how he enjoyed growing up with him by his side.
He’d write about how much he misses you– perhaps the most out of everyone. There aren’t many words he could use to describe how much he wishes for your presence, and so he thinks the pages filled with sentences directed to you would be rather sparse, and it makes him kind of sad to think about. In his mind, you deserve novels written about you. You deserve love letters and poems and essays filled with every little detail of your existence. Maybe if Sunwoo loved you less, he would be able to talk about it more.
When his eyes go out of focus staring at the ceiling, Sunwoo decides to call you. It’s been 4 days since he arrived and he hasn’t spoken to you since you waved him off to the airport. His mother drove him and you couldn’t go to send him off at the gate, but Sunwoo almost thinks he prefers the fact that you only said goodbye to him in front of his house. It would be that much harder if he saw your face the last thing before boarding the plane. 
For the last four days, he’s been slowly settling in, taking in the new country and the new environment. He’d say he was just too busy to call, but that would be a lie.
He was just scared to hear your voice. Terribly.
What if you changed your mind? What if you no longer want to stay with him? What if it’s too hard to handle? And Sunwoo knows it’s hard– hell, it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done– but all he wishes is for you to keep handling it well. To keep his heart in your hands gently, like you always have, sending him your energy.
He figures that if there’s one thing that can help his growing homesickness, it is to hear your voice. 
Sitting up from his bed and walking over to the bag he carried with him through the airport and kept with him on the plane, he scrambles through the item to find the piece of paper you forced into his hand on the driveway of his house. 
“We changed our landline yesterday, so call me on this number when you get there,” you said, pressing a kiss towards his cheek before you let him get into his mother’s car. Sunwoo promised to call back then– he hopes you don’t mind the delay. Maybe he could blame the timezones…
Hand thrusting into the front pocket of the bag, Sunwoo feels around and tries to fish out the little piece of paper. He’s 100% certain he put it there after he got into the car with his mum, making sure it’s safe and sound. He would hate to lose it– it was some sort of safety net for him. Something to fall back to, something to keep him above the water.
Panic settles in his chest when he doesn’t feel the soft piece of paper anywhere. The boy unzips all other compartments of the bag, turning it around, shaking out everything that’s inside. The phone number to your new landline has to be there somewhere in there. It needs to be.
When he doesn’t find it in his bag, he opens his closet. He throws everything out to the ground– his clothing, his shoes, the notebooks he bought for university– all in the search of the stupid, little, yet so important piece of paper. He searches through all his other bags. All pockets of his jeans, every centimeter of his folded clothing. All drawers of his desk, the whole floor, hell, he even crouches to check under his bed, blowing the dust bunnies out of reach, desperately hoping he could wish the paper into existence. He searches his bed. All possible parts where the landline number could be– some more unreasonable than others. Sunwoo feels like he is losing his mind.
The paper is nowhere in his room. It’s like it vanished. Was it really there at all? Did he dream that moment up?
Running down the stairs towards the landline, he takes the phone off the wall and punches in the numbers to your old landline, the pattern so familiar in his fingertips he couldn’t tell you the number if you asked, but he could recreate it with punching in the buttons in on any other phone in the world. He clenches his fist together, breathing more heavily as he listens in, praying for the universe to stop playing tricks on him and make you magically answer on the other side.
When the phone makes a dismissive sound, signaling that the number he called no longer exists, Sunwoo shuts the phone against the wall and takes it again, putting in your old number once more, like a summoning ritual. Maybe he put the numbers in wrong the first time… Maybe he made a mistake somewhere along the way…
When he gets the same response, he tries again. And again. And again. 
He can’t believe it. Tension settles into his shoulders, making him twirl the cord of the landline in between his fingers as a way to calm himself down, listening in to the dull noise on the other side telling him there’s nothing that can be done, nothing more that he can do. He doesn’t have the number, and somehow, although it sounds foolish, it feels like he lost you alongside it too. 
“Everything alright, man? You look–” Mark enters the room, peering at the boy with curious, worried eyes. It’s only now that Sunwoo realizes he is breathing heavily, fingers clammy on the cord, heart begging to run out of his chest to get all across the ocean to you. It’s only now that he realizes his cheeks are wet with tears, the solidification of his inner turmoil taking a physical form and appearing on his face, making him feel pathetic in front of the older boy.
Sunwoo once again puts the phone back to its original place, but this time, he doesn’t take it back and tries the useless old phone number again. Simply turning away from his roommate, he accepts his fate as he quickly puts on his shoes and slams the door shut after him, going out for a run.
Is this his punishment for waiting too long? Did the paper vanish out of his possession because he was deemed unworthy of hearing your voice? Should he have tried to look for the number earlier? Would this have prevented it?
It’s hard to run when your nose is stuffed and your breathing hitches with silenced sobs, he learns. Sunwoo doesn’t get as far as he would have liked, crumbling on a bench somewhere next to a playground, picking at the dry skin of his lips until they bleed and the irony taste on his tongue snaps him back into reality.
What was once his dream is starting to feel more like a nightmare. When he calls Eric two days after to ask him to get him your new landline number, he gets the news that you abruptly moved out to New York. 
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September 2007
“If you really think about it, Y/N,” Sunwoo hums, making you shift your attention towards his serious-looking face, “we never really broke up in the first place.”
The boy is holding a bottle of cider in his hand, one of the four you got on your way to your tonight’s destination. Sunwoo rang the bell to your house a few minutes before 10 PM, and although you weren’t expecting to see him that day and you weren’t even looking as presentable as you’d like, you agreed to take a walk with him. Somehow, the two of you found yourselves climbing over the fence of your old high school, sneaking into the football field, figures settling on one of the benches of the tribune.
“Oh yeah,” you hum, lightness evident in your tone, “you just never called. What’s up with that, by the way?” you ask, snickering when you watch the male avert his gaze in a bashful manner, as if he was embarrassed to tell you his reasoning.
You take a sip of the apple cider, enjoying the sweet, fruity taste on your tongue, watching as the male contemplates his next response for a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I lost your new landline number,” he peeps, voice barely louder than a whisper.
His answer doesn’t register immediately in your brain. The words take a moment to string themselves together into a sentence, taking another few seconds before you understand the meaning of his confession. A soft laugh drags out of your throat, disbelief coating your very essence. “What?”
“Yeah,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck before looking back at you, eyes full of guilt and shame, “I… I lost the number you gave me, and when I called Eric to try to make him get me your new number, he told me you moved to New York, and I guess… I guess I took it as a sign…?” he says, shrugging.
“A sign of what?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his answer.
All this time, you thought he didn’t call because he didn’t want to. You thought he didn’t call because he was too busy, too tired to deal with anything else other than his career at the moment. He was trying his hardest and training every day, so you understood that he wouldn’t have time for you every day. When he didn’t call for so long, even after you moved to the States as well– you hoped he’d somehow try searching for your number even then, because in your mind, everything was possible– one day, you just… stopped waiting for him to call. You stopped hoping you would hear his voice on the other side of the line.
And you accepted it. He realized long distance relationships were too difficult to maintain, especially in that time and age, and he had too many of his own worries to take care of before focusing his attention somewhere else. You didn’t resent him, no. You longed for him, you missed him, but you never once hated him for the decision he made. You wished him well, all this time. 
“A sign that… that maybe we weren’t meant to be,” he hums, shrugging. “It sounds stupid, really, but…” he trails off, cutting himself off in the middle of the sentence.
Something about his confession makes you feel a bit lighter. Your shoulders feel like there’s no longer anything weighing them down. It’s not like you waited for an explanation all those years and when you finally got one, something in you shifted into a more comfortable position.
“For me, back then, you were the right person, wrong time. And I didn’t want to let you go, I really didn’t, it’s just… everything was already so hard and the world seemed to put so many obstacles in my way of contacting you, that I thought it was the universe telling me to drop it and let you go. So you could… so you could find someone else, I guess…” he finishes explaining. He averts his gaze from you, pointing it towards the empty field, as if scared to see your reaction to his blabbering. He takes another few sips of his cider, snickering. “It wasn’t fair of me to want you to wait for me either.”
So you could find someone else… You think back to all the times you went on dates after you concluded that your relationship with Sunwoo was over. You try to remember their faces, their mannerisms in such detail that you could only make up one of your previous lovers– the one sitting next to you right now– and you chuckle at your foolishness. Remembering how you kept comparing every new person in your life to the one that stole your heart first, remembering how you thought about him late at night, wondering where he is right now and how he’s doing. You used to look through the sports parts of newspapers, looking for his name somewhere, looking for his team name, but never seeing a glance of how he was doing. You wore the stupid friendship bracelet he gave you in your junior year around in New York, having people point it out and ask about it, all until it broke off by itself  one day and you reluctantly said goodbye to the sentiment. 
You dated around after losing contact with Sunwoo. You don’t really think you found someone else, though. 
“I wanted to wait for you, though,” you say, shuffling closer to the male on the bench, voice sincere. “It was my decision.”
“Well,” he chuckles, “life had other plans for us two.”
His sentence makes you think. A few days ago, it would make you sad. Embarrassed, even. Life had other plans for you two and they didn’t align with what you two have calculated during the summer break after your senior year. Sunwoo didn’t become a star. His football career never took off. He finished his degree and came back home, bitter and heartbroken. 
Your plans ended just as fast as you came up with them. Not going to university after high school, you were left with nothing to do. When the opportunity to take an internship for a news company in New York came to you so suddenly, you took it without thinking, trying to find your place in the big world ahead of you. You had no plan, but you think that maybe, some part of you wanted to get away from your hometown all along. You wanted to do big things, make everyone proud. Being a news anchor wasn’t even something you dreamed of when you were little, so you guess you weren't supposed to really feel that let down, but the defeat still stings.
Or, at least, it used to. You find that the failure doesn’t hurt as much anymore. 
Looking at the male next to you, you think you know the reason why. “It’s okay,” you say, shrugging, “we figured it out anyways, didn’t we?”
“Yeah,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you with a soft smile playing with his lips. “I guess we did.”
The sound of cicadas hits your ears when you two fall into a comfortable silence. Healing old wounds was surely one of the items on your check list when you came back home, but you didn’t expect to get over things so quickly. You don’t think you would have been able to get over everything alone, though– and this makes you twice as grateful to still have Sunwoo by your side. A sense of nostalgia takes over you at the fact, but this time, it hits you with more fondness than longing for the old times.
“Remember how young we were? It’s like I still see you chasing the ball around the field when I focus hard enough,” you say, pointing ahead of you.
Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head at your antics. “Yeah. I almost see you leading the cheer practice in the back there,” he points, “in your cute cheer uniform, with the ridiculous pom poms in your hands–”
“Hey, don’t call them ridiculous,” you gasp, “they were my favorite part of the whole routine!”
“Oh, I could tell,” he laughs, poking fun at you. 
“Well, you must have liked the pom poms enough to stare at me during practice all the time,” you shrug, teasing the male back. The fact that Sunwoo had a crush on you long before you reciprocated the feelings wasn’t something you two explicitly talked about before, but you always deemed as clear as day. Or, at least, it was to everyone back then.
“I did not–” he gasps, making you gently shove him with your elbow.
“Come on, everybody used to say you had a crush on me back then,” you hum, “you were pretty obvious with it too.”
“You knew?” he looks at you, eyes big and surprised. Gears clearly running in his head, he tries to piece the information together, running through the memories now so distant, but still so clear.
“Girls always know,” you point out, shrugging. You take another sip of your cider, licking your lips after and speaking up again, tone of voice almost confidential. “I just acted like I didn’t. But then I realized I liked you back, so I was trying everything in my power to make you confess to me first. Which… took you long enough, young man,” you giggle, seeing the male shake his head at you in disapproval.
“You could’ve confessed first, if you were so confident,” he mutters, obviously a little gutted by the revelation.
“That would be below my level,” you nod, pressing your lips together into a straight line, “besides, it was fun watching you act all cute and clueless.”
“Don’t call me cute and clueless–”
“That’s what you were, though! Like the time when you got super drunk on your birthday and begged me not to leave–”
“I didn’t even like you back then!”
“Sure you didn’t.”
“I was in denial,” he furrows his brows theatrically, putting the empty glass bottle to the grass, “but I see that you had a lot of fun watching me suffer.”
“Fine, pretty boy,” you say, catching a glimpse of the boy momentarily shying away, presumably at the endearing nickname, his cheeks tinting pink even in the faint moonlight. “Would it make you feel better if I confessed first this time?”
“Huh?” the boy asks, lips parted, eyes a big, honest pool of honey.
Cute and clueless, you think.
The story comes full circle when you realize that this football field is perhaps what started it all. This is where you ran up to the new addition to the team, saying that your favorite number was on the back of his jersey. As the leader of the cheerleading team, you took it as your job to make every newbie feel welcomed– no matter if they were a fellow cheerleader or a football player. You didn’t expect for the boy to never stop wearing the number– although it was your favorite, it didn’t seem to be so important back then. (One day, you learned that Sunwoo kept the number on his jersey even after moving abroad. You read it in one of the sports magazines you foolishly flipped through in every kiosk you encountered and almost teared up in the busy store after.) 
This field is where you watched him play football every week. It’s where you both practiced, sending each other funny faces after the coach was mean to either of you for not being focused on your training. 
This is where Sunwoo found his passion– where he found his dream. This is the place that shifted the next couple of years of your life towards all sorts of directions. This is where he kissed you after winning a match, a gleeful confession slipping past his lips. This is where your relationship started, and metaphorically, also ended. The field that kept you apart is now a thousand miles away, but the one that brought you together is now right in front of you.
You guess it’s only right to use it for new beginnings.
“I think… I think I’m still in love with you, Sunwoo,” you start slowly, playing with your fingers in your lap, “well, I don’t know if my feelings for you ever ended… they could’ve, I mean, we were apart for so long… I just… all I know is that I don’t want us to be apart anymore, and I–”
Your words die on your tongue when the boy cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of apple cider mixing on your lips. The way he kisses you didn’t really change even after so many years, still swaying you with the familiarity of his loving. Still, even though you know the way he angles your jaw, the way he presses against you, the way he takes his sweet time, truly showing you how much he enjoys the act, you never grow tired of it. Something in you reacts the same way as when you were young. There’s still excitement, there’s still tender softness in your heart every time you kiss him.
His lips break apart from yours, a playful tint in his words when he speaks to you again. “Don’t try to take credit for it now,” he says, “because the last time I checked, we never really broke up in the first place, so you could say we were dating all along, all because I confessed back in–”
“God, you’re unbelievable,” you grunt.
“But you love me,” the boy says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is.
“Always have,” you say, pressing a quick peck to his plush lips, “always will.”
The starlight glazes your cheekbones when you rest your forehead against his, as if to send him a telepathic message that is worth more than a thousand words. It’s hard to find the words to explain the mixture of your emotions right now, but when your memory washes up the encouraging monologue Sunwoo offered to you when you first arrived, you finally agree with his sentiment. Perhaps, one word could summarize it all– you feel truly content. 
They say you never forget about your first love. At 25 and still counting, you guess you could say that’s true.
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A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!
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I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!
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synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.
pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader
word count// 5.8k
contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe
notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!
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December 24th 
You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.
“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.
You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”
“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.
“What? Why? Is everything okay?”
“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”
“Uh huh?”
“Meet me there.”
“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“
“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”
You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”
“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.
As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.
“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.
You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”
Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”
You nod, “Yeah.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.
“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.
Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.
When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.
“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.
Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”
The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.
“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.
You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“ 
Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.
“Are you an idiot?” you snap.
“Might be.” 
You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”
Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”
You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”
“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”
You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”
“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”
You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.
“Y/N, please look at me.”
“I-I can't."
“Y/N, open your eyes.”
The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.
“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.
Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?” 
He smiles at you.
“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.
He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”
Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“ 
“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"
Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.
“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”
“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.
“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.
You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“ 
Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."
You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 
“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.
“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”
“Am I supposed to?”
You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.
“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.
Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”
“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."
“Are you okay now?”
You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”
“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.
You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”
“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.
As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”
He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”
You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”
He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.
“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”
You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.
Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”
You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”
Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”
You nod. “I am.”
He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.
“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.
He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”
You hum. “Is it nice?”
“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”
“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”
Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.
You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.
You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.
He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”
You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”
You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”
He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”
You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”
You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.
“Y/N, are you okay?”
You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.
“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”
Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”
You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”
His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.
He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.
“What’s going on?”
“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.
He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”
You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”
“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”
“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.
He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”
You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”
“Huh?”
“Our kids—daughters.”
Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”
“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker. 
He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”
You shrug. “What are their names?”
“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”
You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”
“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.
“And we are...?”
He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”
You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”
He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”
You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”
Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.
“Are you real?”
He nods. “Very real.”
You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”
“Extremely real.”
You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”
He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.
“Getou,” you mumble.
He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”
You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.
“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.
“Y/N? whats wrong-“
You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.
One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.
You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.
Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.
No, no, no.
You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.
No, no, no.
You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.
“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.
Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“
“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."
He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”
Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.
“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”
He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”
His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”
“You’re not.”
You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”
He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.
“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.
You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”
“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”
You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”
He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”
“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.
Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”
You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.
You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.
“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.
He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.
“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.
You nod. 
“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”
“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”
He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”
You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.
He stares at you curiously.
“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”
He continues staring at you.
“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”
Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”
You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”
“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.
“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”
He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”
You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”
“What?!”
You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”
He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”
“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”
He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”
You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”
“I'm dying the same way you did?”
You return your attention to him. “What?”
Getou nods. “Yeah.”
You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”
“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.
“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.
He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”
“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”
“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”
You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.
“I'm dying for nothing, then?”
You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”
“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”
“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”
You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”
Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.
“Sorry.”
“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”
You nod. 
“What were they like?”
You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”
“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”
“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”
He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.
“In the second one, we were married.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”
You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”
“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.
“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”
He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”
“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“
“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.
“Yeah... How'd you-“
“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.
You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”
“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”
“I still do.”
The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.
“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.
“Huh?”
“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.  
You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”
“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”
“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”
“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”
Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”
“What if you stay?…”
You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.
Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.
“Think about it.”
His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.
“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”
You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.
“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”
You nod and murmur, “It would.”
“Then?” he asks expectantly.
Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.
“I... I can't stay, Getou.”
His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”
"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”
“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.
Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.
“We could try!”
You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”
“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”
You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”
His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”
“I cant.”
“Don't leave me again.”
The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.
“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.
“So stay.”
You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”
Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.
“Please,” he pleads.
You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.
“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”
He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“
The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.
“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”
He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”
A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”
Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.
You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.
“Y/N?” he asks weakly.
You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.
He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”
He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”
You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You nod. “I know.”
“You’ll be okay.”
“I know,” you croak out.
“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.
You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.
It doesnt.
You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.
“He’s gone, Y/N.”
"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”
Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.
But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.
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©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
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shanieveh · 9 months
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hanie's masterlist !
— i write mostly various because i can never be loyal to one man for too long
— they all/almost include my faves except for part twos: kaveh, scaramouche, kaeya, alhaitham
— uhm me subcategory them or saying the men involved in these fics... is for another day im tired
works (genshin impact)—
rosemary dreams and sweet lullabies
— the comfort of sleep when he is beside you, the moment when you cared more about the reality of the moment rather than the dreams that come along with it
how you love the genshin men
— how you love them depending on their personality and if they liked you back (some didnt angst ensues but there is fluff i promise)
the day... the music died
— you died, their reaction (some gore? idk)
i like you so much, you'll know it pt. 1
—the things they do for love
im in love with you, and know you know pt. 2
— the things they do for love also just different characters i dont really care about.... but they are kinda cool so its OKAY
call me, "lover boy"
— courting you and what made you like them back
being the genshin men's first priority
— they forget everything and anything when you're in the picture. you are all that matters (did i write this during a mental breakdown when i realize how unimportant i am to everyone? yes)
dangerously yours
— wdym this is based on anakin skywalker?! it is. enemies to lovers, you're the hero and he is the villain
salut d'amour
— based on the love of elgar (the creator of salut d'amour) to his wife though not the same plot just that love and affection you feel during the piece
genshin men crushing on you
— self-explanatory. grown adult men pining over you, should be just kaveh but i got carried away and added them all because why not?
10 things i hate about you
— red flags of genshin men based on the poem from the same name (pls watch it) and how ur blind from all the signs (or u just pretend)
i was enchanted to meet you
— first meetings with them cute and wholesome i guess
haunted by the ghost of you
— all alone they still can't help but feel another presence, as memories barely buried resurfaced his mind, of a quieter time, of a simpler life.
karma is my boyfriend
— more crack than fluff fic about how the genshin men will obliterate those that dare hurt you like who would???
when im no longer young and beautiful
— growing old with them (personal fave)
"who did this to you?"
— you're hurt and for some reason enemy!genshin men are concerned and doing everything to make you feel better
"forget me not" (neuvillette)
—fontaine is experiencing heavy typhoons and severe floods, and you might just be the reason why
please don't take my sunshine away...
—can't sleep? maybe a lullaby can help :)
to all the boys i've loved before
— you made a letter to your crush, he likes you back, chaos ensues in how he responsed
when you know, you know
— soulmates are a fantasy made by hopeless romantics, but as soon as he saw you he started to doubt that. he was in love.
"what letters?"
— he ghosted your letters is a sign he never loved you, and as you move on your life he comes back, only to tell you a shocking revelation.
"hey are you still there?" "good."
— only needed when everything goes wrong, when he's no longer in her arms. you felt used. but do you stop? never, he was worth it. (inspo by NIKI's song: backburner)
works (honkai star rail) —
the best thing that's ever been mine
— capturing the mind, the heart, the body and the soul of honkai star rail men
when you know, you know
— soulmates are a fantasy made by hopeless romantics, but as soon as he saw you he started to doubt that. he was in love.
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yuukei-yikes · 7 months
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hope you dont mind me asking this but since you seem very knowledgeable about the fandom and all i thought it was suitable
why is there so much ship content between sato kido and kano?? are they not adoptive siblings?? theres even some in semi canon (i think) contents like in anthologies too,, i mean not surprised it exists since weird people are in every fandom but its talked so casually here
with momo and hibiya too actually! because of the huge age gap you would think it wouldn't be such a casual ship but it somehow is?? as far as i seen anyways
oh man lollll nah i dont mind. fair question and it's much better to have an answer to this
im putting it under the cut bc it turned out kinda long and into a rant, and also to warn i mention the themes suggested in the ask (incest, age gaps)
basically it's no secret that in japanese media, incest and age gaps are widely normalized even today so just imagine in 2013 when kagepro was at its peak.
back then, kido and kano specifically were a WIDELY popular ship. here's the thing with the weird kano and kido (and seto too but mainly kano and kido) shipping, aside from what i said abt normalized incest and shit. kano and kido (and seto) being siblings is actually... sort of a spoiler? it's not revealed early on.
kano and kido are presented as 2 kids the same age living together and having different names. and they purposefully stop acting like siblings. SO it doesnt register until you get into their backstories. they're both adopted into the same family when theyre like... 7 or 8, and were friends before becoming siblings so people were able to use this excuse: "OHHH THEYRE MORE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS"
but like..... they live together as siblings for YEARS and to be honest im sure 99% of people watch the song mvs FIRST which u can binge in 1 afternoon and if ur watching with any sort of actual interest and attention, you WILL see kano and kido as part of the tateyama family in ayano's theory of happiness. not to mention the anime came out in 2014 which im also sure 99% of kagepro fans have seen. so to me that was always an excuse if it came from a very dedicated fan though i do understand it if it's from a casual enjoyer, like they truly didn't catch that they're siblings
when i joined the fandom i was 13, didnt know eng or japanese, and thought mekatrio childhood friends made total sense for some good 6 months into the fandom until I realised properly. a few months ago, i discovered a very close friend of mine had a kagepro phase in 2014 or something and told me he really shipped kano and kido and when i told him they're siblings he was like WHAT!!!!!!!
and another thing abt kano and kido. they're indubitably the queerest characters. THEY LOOK THE FUCKING GAYEST. there is Something abt pushing the gay characters together?? kido is constantly mistaked for a guy. kano the poor thing had ANOTHER popular ship going for him with ayano because people decided he is that way to shintaro because he actually had a crush on ayano. yeah. this was the fucking consensus with kano, shintaro and ayano. like i mentioned i DONT KNOW japanese and only ever read the translations of the novels and i also dont Know what jin was thinking when writing kano and shintaro. But. dear lord it reads fucking homosexual my dude. jin does this by accident a lot though. look at kido and momo. momo calling kido beautiful 1000 times but she's like Well as a woman i am jealous i wish i was that pretty. bruuuh ok anyways moving on Ill GET to jin again in a second.
like you said, semi official stuff like the anthologies are very heavy on this ship and also.... sorry, the manga which is an official media. is Heavily into this ship. for jin's stance on it, i am not sure. i do think he laughs it off but he NEVER intended to write them that way. in the seventh novel theres a whole bit where kido's telling kano you shouldve never hidden this from me im your sister we are family. even shintaro who is the pov ur reading from is like wow what a nice brother and sister AND THATS THE SECOND TO LAST NOVEL WHICH BY THEN THE SHIP WAS SUPER POPULAR SO TO ME THAT WAS JIN'S WAY OF REMINDING EVERYONE THEYRE SIBLINGS. personally i think jin truthfully intended to write kano and kido as siblings but doesnt care people ship them otherwise he wouldnt have had the manga written by someone who shipped them
so basically what happened. kagepro was confusing and people sometimes missed they are siblings. in japanese media its super normalized. it is 2013 so here it is also normalized in fandom spaces. fanart ensues, even official or semi official content teases it, and yeah. boom its popular
another big part of it was, EVERYONE GETS A PARTNER!!!! kagepro content has A LOT of Shipping Pieces if that makes sense. idk what to call it but like god, pixiv entries with 1 shinaya, 1 harutaka, 1 setomary.... and 1 hibiya and momo and 1 kano and kido. god awful. if any golden year kagepro fans follow me they will KNOW what im talking about.
now that i mentioned it. hibiya and momo. ough. idk man. people were properly weird with this one. because with kano and kido they at least made up a damn excuse. with hibiya and momo there was nothing. but the thing is, jin is entirely to blame here. absolutely fucking disgusting bro. unlike with kano and kido, with hibiya and momo he actively wrote it. in the third novel their chapters together or any of hibiya's chapters are actual fucking torture to read. i wont go into details if u havent read it but like there are Reasons i never recommend kagepro to people.
its good to give jin proper respect he IS the creator of my favorite characters ever in the whole wide world and the writer of the story that makes me the happiest ever in the history of life. but. that doesn't mean i dont hold him accountable for being weird as hell in his writing because he absolutely is
back in the early days of this blog i had my very own Gets Send Deaths Threats arc by some people who shipped these guys or people who were mad i criticized jin (i always suspected it was like. the same 1 or 2 people. with a lot of time in their hands) soooo honestly answering this activated my fight of flight a little bit but tbh i havent seen Any content here on tumblr (i do have everything blacklisted to hell and back) or gotten ANY rude messages here in years, so i think we're good👍
hope this was helpful and i hope ur not grossed out of kagepro though I'd understand. u kinda need a strong stomach not only for its themes but sadly kagepro does the gross anime thing animes do :(
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aksbe · 1 year
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Oh you know that scene where ava falls and practically dies in front of bea in 5th ep? Did you notice that the song playing in the backround while beatrice holds ava is literally called:
and oh boy do i have a theory to why its their theme, so pull up spotify, youtube, apple music, your local singing bird choir, whatever and listen to this song on loop if you wanna know what im babbling about.
So why is it their theme?
The song starts off sounding so unsure, like its so new to both of them, its carefull, slow and so soft as if something would break if it was too loud or fast and in a way thats perfect for them. Their start was slow and their love was something new to both of them. Theres even these small notes mixed in the start which could symbolise the small moments those sparks that started it all.
If their relationship would have happened any faster i dont think it would have been the same, because yes, they're made for each other, but it just woudnt have worked out. The slow burn was what was needed for both of their character developments. Without that pining, without that jelousy or those moments and looks i dont think bea would have ever left the ocs later, because it could have easialy be swept under the rug as "just a fling, small temptation, nothing else". But with the slow burn its more like... she feels the love and she feels happy and it dosent bring her any pain untill she lost ava.
And for ava it was another new thing. So far ava has rushed trough new things, new experiences, enjoyed the moments and moved on. Like take JC, she rushed in and trough that relationship so fast, but ultimately we dont ever hear her mention him much after. It was just another new shiny thing she hadnt gotten to experience before. But now, with this build up, her slowing down, she starts to apprechiate the small things she now has, the small important moments with beatrice. Like when they danced in the club and the moment where she just looked at bea, really looked and i bet nothing else mattered for her in that moment.
In the second half of the song theres this build up which is like how their love was so slowly and delicately built moment upon moment and emotions upon emotions and ultimately at the end of the build up with the last high notes its their high point, every small building block being down, all those months of experiences just everything coming togheter and then one of the most purest forms of affection. A simple, beautiful kiss.
And the way the song fades out in the end... Their time being cut short. Their love tossed in the air, left to the wind because ava is gone(for now) and bea is left behind. But the sound lingers for so long that i cant help but believe theres still hope for both of them, and i think they believe the same.
Extra thoughts
Honestly i cant decide which came first in this case, was the piece written for that scene and later made the theme song or was it first their theme song...
See this song fits so well in that scene. Which makes me believe that it was first written for it. Like the fear at start and then bea feeling the pulse and thinking ava is dead, and comforting and asking her not to be dead, and then her being okay and alright and ending on the high point of "they cant beat us bea, not togheter." Which is such an important line!
Maybe they wrote it for that scene and realized how well it symbolised their relationship too.
Cant lie about the fact how sad sounding it is either. Which makes sense for the scene but also maybe a tiny bit for their relationship.
Its always been known how warrior nuns dont live long, the line where camila says "theyre never yours, they never last" perfectly shows the looming saddness and eventual ending to their arc in this season. How their love was, is and will be under the threat because any moment any one of them could die and the other would be left alone.
Of course these are all just my thoughts, and if you have different ones i happily welcome them in the comments, dms or even asks. <3
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im--tired · 11 days
Text
This is controversial.
But as someone who was a trans man for 2 years I feel like I have some place to speak on it.
Bring transgender (and this is not all people but specifically my personal experiences) is based off of gender stereotypes.
I just saw a video on Dylan Mulvaney's new song and I can't say anything has pissed me off more. There is no such thing as a concrete slate of what a woman is. A woman can be a nurse but she could also be a plumber, which we all know. But how womanhood in these terms tends to be portrayed as harmful stereotypes that can harm biological women. I have no issue with whatever these people's lives are but to say that biological women are just bleeders that give birth (which some of us dont even get periods and are infertile) but then go and say that you have to "learn the basics" even though you literally just said they're wasn't anything that makes a woman a woman.
I'm sorry for my language, but what the fuck?
I'm exhausted of how this is going. And for me to sit over here and watch, mind you, literal children, be influenced by this and think to be a woman you have to be like this and to be a man you have to be like this and if you're not in either explicit rules then you're something else.
Dosen't that literally go against everything we've tried to fix as a society? I'm not a man but I have many male friends so I'm aware that if a man were to wear a dress or whatever is considered feminine he'd be called gay and said no woman would ever like him. Obviously I'm not a man but I have heard things along those lines before.
My point is, the only reason transgender exists is because of harmful gender stereotypes we've created since the beginning of society. I'm a history nerd and you can make the argument that there was gender discriminatory in hunter-gatherer times but I'm pretty sure our ancestors just new that men were biologically stronger than women. Specifically within the Ancient Rome and Greece it is known that women had practically no rights, it's a whole thing but I'm not going to get into that because this will be much longer than it needs to be.
Just think about it. Like you're the exact same person, just with different genitals. Is it really worth all the money? And if so, why?It's just a vagina or a penis it's not much of a difference.
And I'll tell you how I know. I got sick and tired of how I looked because I was "too masculine" with my blunt eyebrows, square face, and muscular bone structure. It's not even like I was extremely muscular either (of which I am now significantly more than I was at the time because I've come to embrace that part of myself). I also had a slight mustache, because body hair is, NORMAL, and my mom kept nagging me about my body hair (My mom is an amazing woman so don't say anything rude about her, it's just unfortunately how our society works). So I became trans. It felt as though all my problems had dissapeared and all I had to worry about was correcting people and changing my name. But it soon became hard. I realized how feminine I actually was and hated every part of it. Not to mention a lot of my friends are part of the LGBTQ+ and I can't explain how absolutely terrified I was to tell them. I got the "Oh are you sure it wasn't your parents or peers pressuring you into it" amongst lots if other things. It was hard for me to actually be myself when I had been hiding behind a person I created just because I hated certain parts of my personality, looks or interests for being "too masculine".
It has been said so many times and I'll say it again. The issue does not lie with people being transgender or anything under the umbrella (I don't care what you have in your pants or what your pronouns are I'll respect it because it has nothing to do with me) it has to lie with gender roles, expectations, culture etc. Its good to preserve history and culture, but some needs to be changed for the good.
Theres so many more details I could add to this to explain it more but these are just the basics. If anyone has questions onto why I have this opinion or need for more information don't hesitate to ask.
And also just remember I'm just someone on the internet so if you dont agree with my opinion feel free to rip my face off in the comments but it's really a waste of your time.
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schizopositivity · 1 year
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just sending this in because honestly i need someone to drop the mask to and just let out my thought processes as they happen with out trying to shape it up all pretty and present to someone neurotypical mind . you know?
it's like, i had to write a little letter to my professor about accomodations or somethingorwhatever. because my disorganized thinking is really bad right now and it's super hard to actually work in his class. brainthoughts are like we should look up the symptoms so we can better describe them and it's like..the same description that barely makes any sense to me lol. occassionally i find gems that get me perfectly like "feeling as though your brain is scrambled or fragmented and filled with pieces of conversations, music, and odd noises, etc"
it's just...why is this particular part so misunderstood. barely ever elaborated on. or explored. and so hard to find any in depth info that goes beyond the same repeated "Speech may be hard to make out and thinking disorganized." The symptom is called disorganized thinking!!! that's like going "symptom: hallucination. its when you hallucinate" no shit
sometimes i think it might be easier to find out what neurotypicals thought processes are like and then compare and contrast that to my personal experience tbh
i agree that there should be more info on disorganized thinking but i also see how that would be hard to describe cause it can show itself in so many different ways. if it helps i can give some examples of thoughts i experience that i think are disorganized:
•having a clear train of thought and then it just stops and i forgot what i was just thinking about
•being confused in general because i feel like things are going fast and i dont understand it
•a random phrase i heard or part of a song repeating in my head over and over so loud i cant think of anything else when i try
•someone asking me a question and me taking a long time to process it and answer because i feel like i have to concintrate very hard to understand the words and what they mean put together
•thoughts racing so fast i cant understand them as i think them so it feels like im thinking in gibberish
•thoughts being so slow that i get frustrated
•thinking several things at once all in an unclear jumble to the point where i cant talk
•trying to think about something but i cant cause it gets overshadowed by louder thoughts (usually random memories, trauma flashbacks or intrusive thoughts)
theres probably more but funny enough im having trouble thinking of them lol
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red-dyed-sarumane · 1 year
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hello i am also a hiiragi magnetite enjoyer but a casual one (the songs just bang. they're really good. i loop them) and i had no idea until we became mutuals and i looked at your posts that their songs are part of a series. i had never looked into it. i am genuinely interested and if you ever wanted to rattle off to me what it's about i will eat that shit up fr. it's been so long since i was last majorly into a vocaloid song series
hi hi! i hope you dont mind a public answer bc you're far from the only one who didn't know. once u know what to look for tho it starts making a bit more sense.
in short: its a sci-fi, time loop-type story about a group of people trying to stop the world from ending
but i'll get into the songs a bit for u. (this is long)
in long:
yes its absolutely a series with the exception of fabric flower, perfection, nadenna, uni, and rasshaina. everything else so far is part of the same series. (in their personally uploaded songs obviously their commission songs arent part of it)
idk where to throw this in so im sticking it at the beginning all of the characters have names. i asked & they answered me directly. but they're keeping them a secret until they feel like the time is right so i would LOVE to tell u their names but uh. no one knows but hiiragi magnetite.
aru sekai series is actually a fan given name. hiiragi magnetite has never addressed the series out side of the songs themselves unless asked about it. if you called it aru sekai series to them, they dont correct you, so until they want to give it a name themself, i'll be calling it aru sekai series. the name coming from the first song aru sekai shoushitsu of course.
im going to put my proof its a series here first bc i see a lot of eng fans say they didnt know, and even jpn fans that realize theres a series will get it wrong & say theres 2 different series going on. its the same story its one series.
the easiest way & the way that made me realize it is aru sekai shoushitsu opens with "nami no ne no yume wo miyou ame hodo no uruoi wo/ umareyou mou ichido nakuse domo nai keredo" etc which is important in a lot of ways but for right now we're just going to focus on the melody of it.
this same melody occurs in all aru sekai series songs except for kugutsu ashura & laboratory. kyuuyaku hankagai has it in the last chorus at 4:48 as well as the more obvious 5:16. shuuen touhikou has it in the choruses as well at 1:20, 2:34, and 2:46. oumen mokushiroku is the only song so far that has it in lyrics as well instead if mixed into the instrumental, its the last lyrics starting at 2:30 "ah mata aete yokatta ne to itte hoshikatta no ni/ tasogare ga tokete yuku kiete yuku nanimo mienakunaru". unplanned apoptosis its a bit harder to hear & much shorter but its at 0:57, 1:06, 2:16, and 2:26. i dont know why i see people insisting marshall maximizer is a separate series bc its one of the obvious ones with the motif at 2:23 (or at least more obvious than some others). canon has it at 2:20.
theres also the theme most people realize that (kyuu)yaku, (shuu)en, and (ou)men have the same kanji as what starts lines in aru sekai shoushitsu.
a lot of songs also have text in the bg thats basically lore & helps connect & clear up somethings. a lot of these repeat lines from previous songs.
& then we get to kugutsu ashura & laboratory which dont have any of those but they are part of the series your key is in the lyrics using similar themes & concept & wording to other songs.
so what are the songs about
aru sekai shoushitsu
this is a headache of a song that, im so grateful they give us so many songs to expand on bc trying to make sense of it with no context was actually the worst. the absolute most important thing u want to know here is the lines they made into the motif for the series which establishes this tragedy is repeating. the theme of rain/blue is the symbol the current world is coming to an end and they'll later be "reborn" and try again.
no one has any idea what the repeating greek(?) means. i can figure out the words toroid & function & thats it & ive never seen anyone else get any farther with it. if anyone knows please i am begging u to tell me. anyway, from the word toroid alone though i know it has something to do with the world repeating itself.
thats the next main theme i'll get into. the story is a loop of sorts but i hesitate to say its a true time loop bc there is very clear emphasis on the concept of fractals, so repeating but not exactly the same, and toroid shapes, so not a perfect loop like say a sphere or circle would be. instead of a time loop sending them back to the beginning of the day its more like waking up in an alternate timeline altogether. its not a 1:1 learn what the day brings and get out that way. each time's different in its own way. the fractal theme drifts off a bit after a few songs but its still there overall.
the other big one is the concept of things seeming the same when theyre different, and this is easier to miss bc it's actually in the bg text rather than the lyrics. there's a whole paragraph about if a man dies in a swamp from lightning and then miraculously another bolt of lightning in the same area creates a man that's exactly the same in structure, memory, everything, is it still the same man as the one who died. this not only applies to the concept of the world itself, that not only is the world itself not quite the same when everything restarts, but is also a big thing with the characters themselves. there is something that people have that make them "people", something that can be lost, and without that, even though they seem to be the same, they're more of a "thing" than a "person." very big detail that was only a theory until laboratory was posted and confirmed it. aru sekai shoushitsu also says, in lyrics, "however, as long as you exist as people, the old world's legacy will continue on in the toroidal direction." so as long as they still have what makes them a "person" they can still be reborn in the next iteration of the world.
i think those are the most important things. the lyrics are a bit objective overviews of the next songs based on the starting kanji and also a bit more technical detail of whats going on, and the rest of the text is a more subjective view of the events than the lyrics.
kyuuyaku hankagai
this one's the start of our subjective character songs. all the text in it is at the beginning. i won't get too into it bc i dont think there's anything specifically u need to know from it, put it definitely helps put the level of desperation into perspective. theres a bit of play in it with the concept of "people" again, but its more about the lengths everyone will go to to do something about the situation iirc.
quite obviously this is the "past" song and establishes this has been going on for a while. i dont have an exact timeline for you, and im not telling you that because its the "past" that this is the beginning of everything. however. we do get told once again the concept of a "self" is important to the continuation of this. we also get a bit of world description, saying about how the world gets torn up and destroyed at the end.
short overview of it is they've been at this a very long time, everyone is well aware of the stakes, they're desperate & tired, but in the end they know even if they die at the end of the world because they cant save it, they're going to wake up and need to face it all over again. thats why theres so many long notes in this. this song is this characters cry for help. they cant let go bc if they do, if they lose their "self" its all over for them, they know that (although its not blatantly said at this point), so they have to keep going through all the "fractals" hoping that something they do sometime is going to work.
song has a lot of specific terms but its not as impersonal as shoushitsu u can feel the character in this song, especially with all the specific "byebye" written with various forms of regret and pain of separation etc. in an effort to keep this short im going to stop there for now.
shuuen touhikou
song that fits with the "end" (shuu) lines of aru sekai shoushitsu. quite literally an answer to the question of what would happen if they tried to escape instead of facing it.
the first part of text sets up the characters frame of mind, that they've been through this so many times trying to save everything, what if they didn't have to?
also in the text are the "shuu" lines from aru sekai shoushitsu, as well as part of the text from the beginning of kyuuyaku hankagai. and the last text deals with the concept of "ego" a bit instead of a "self".
the lyrics are such that this character is still part of whatever everyone's doing to fix this, but doesn't really agree with how its being handled, constantly being frustrated by how nothing's changing and no one wants to try anything too different. they entertain the idea of just running for it, that theres some town out there that they'll be safe if they can reach, that maybe running is enough to do something that they arent just standing around hoping anymore.
so effectively, no, even if they were to drop everything and run for it, it won't do them any good. (by extension they might also not be able to come back from it, but i cant say that for sure)
oumen mokushiroku
the concave "ou" song. also the only one i can accept the ""official"" english title for since mokushiroku is read as apocalypse in aru sekai shoushitsu.
theres no text in this one! unless u want to count the ou kanji.
this one's interesting bc instead of a part of the human team we have an angel who can't do anything to help them. shes watching over them, she wants to help, but for various reasons she just cant. she cant tell them it's not her fault, she cant affect anything in a way that matters. part of the reason she has the broken umbrella i think is just to really get across shes supposed to be the safeguard but she cant. for reasons beyond her control she cant.
some of the lyrics kind of mirror other songs, "inoru you ni" "omotai kaze furiharau you ni" for example relating to similar phrases in shuuen touhikou, "ima sakenda" like the main lines of kyuuyaku hankagai, starting of with rain similar to aru sekai shoushitsu among other things.
and of course like i said this is the only song that uses the motif in the lyrics & this is a theory but im putting it out there i feel like that implies the others are a part of this but this character in particular can actually do something about it. i dont know if shes actually the one who makes the whole world be reborn or not but i will put that out there.
theres also the line like "we lost something without a shape or feeling" & i think thats another tie into the theme of needing to keep their "self" for any of this to be possible.
unplanned apoptosis
theres a lot going on here. this chara is hilarious to me bc all the others are pretty collected about the whole thing all things considered and shes just acting out the whole time.
she hates it. shes fed up & i think should be considered an unreliable narrator to an extent. she tries to act like fine whatever i dont care but she does. she does. she also doesnt want to take blame for anything.
now, theres the line in here like jibun wo koroshite and this isnt in the way u might immediately think. i also hesitate to say its the same "self" the other songs are talking about considering its jibun rather than jiga. its more like suppressing & denying her true feelings to deal with everything. not that that wouldnt tie in to that big theme if she took it too far but for now shes safe.
theres text in this song this time tying it directly to oumen mokushiroku in case the art wasnt enough for u to know that. its a bit about fate being predetermined for them, a bit about things continuing in the same direction they've been, but shes brought back again
the songs really a lamentation of losing her past and future to this as well as showing how badly shes handling it.
and theres a bit of foreshadowing here in the what with the window(s) behind her being dark and broken while also being the exact same in composition to the one in oumen mokushiroku. which u think initially is because the angel cant help her, but the lines in canon about something causing the glass to break i really think is in reference to this and is saying she's at least part of the reason the angel cant help anyone. whether shes aware of this i cant say bc shes a liar who doesnt take blame for anything & since this is her viewpoint thats a bit unclear.
marshall maximizer
i think its that it's asa's art instead of sena yuta's that people think this is unrelated but honestly arent u people so confused. u look at these lyrics and think its a stand alone song? are u not so confused?
anyway, this is actually another big one in terms of plot
welcome to sunk cost fallacy the song. like literally. thats what it is, admitting they've put everything into what they're doing that it's probably not worth it, but they've been at it this long they can't just stop either. its gotta pay out eventually right-
but if u take anything away from this, its that "people" or at least this character can tell when someone isnt one of them anymore. theres the lines like "observing you acting like a person gone mad" "to you who's pretending to be a person gone mad" where both "person" and "you" are written in katakana much like when the concept of being a "person" is discussed in aru sekai shoushitsu. "you" (kimi) being similar to "thing" (mono) in this case (shout out to hayato in the hiiragima tag on twitter for figuring this out btw)
theres also the iconic lines up to hito de nashi? as though to say, but if you act as a person does, then arent you a person as well?
and then the text. its. heavy. discussing what it means to be a person, if there's something special about it, if it matters to be alive for yourself or because of something else (in a series context. so. being forced to live without the "self" they need for example) it even starts to get into the "mono" versus "hito" concept until both characters talking get too overwhelmed by it. the character they were talking to then "disappears" after admitting they might nit be a "person" which seems to say those that lose their "self" dont get to continue.
for now though, the character narrating the song is still a "person" they still get to try again, and they continue to
canon
another one i see people say isnt part of aru sekai series. it says aru sekai de in the first lyric. whats not clicking.
this ones more on why things arent quite working out.
theres a sense of balance they need to keep in place, presumably, so they can make it out of this, but each time something happens that upsets the balance. again, theres the mention of cracking the glass that i think is a reference to that window in both oumen mokushiroku and unplanned apoptosis. this seems to be their sign if things are working out or not, the chorus of this song seems to being saying if the glass breaks theyve messed up, nothings going to change and they need to try again.
this chara's like the others in that shes also tired of everything, but she still has her "self" so she has to keep trying. only she'll do anything that might work so they dont have to do this again, so they "don't say goodbye" again. which includes lying a bit so people will try her ideas.
theres also the part admitting they didn't want any sacrifices for this, but, clearly, that didn't work out in their favor. this is probably a pretty broad definition of sacrifice, can be everything from time, energy, etc to sacrificing their "selves" for their cause.
theres also text in this song!! its coded in the video but shunnanna in the hiiragima tag decoded it so we know the text! it talks a bit about coming to and realizing the worlds okay, theres pretty flowers, and it smells like it just rained. it also then repeats the nami no ne no lines from aru sekai shoushitsu. the last part talks about a risky experiment that got out of control and ended up destroying everything. which that last part, to me, seems to imply this whole thing was their fault in the first place.
in the end tho, this songs the same they don't accomplish much and have to try again.
kugutsu ashura
tongue twister mantra the song.
this ones interesting bc the character isnt human to begin with (being ashura) so i think thats why the motif isnt here. they get to repeat in their own way tho.
shes just that. a puppet really. she cant do anything to help out, rather she can only do what she's supposed to so to speak.
if u can get through the wording though theres a lot to this!
its a bit more of an outsider's perspective at how needlessly desperate this how thing is. things are awful, everyone's having a bad time, hell, people are actually dying, but no one listens to reason and things keep continuing on in the same way. it places a lot of blame on the place that started the whole thing, the place mentioned in the canon text i believe, honestly for a good reason, and kind of criticizes whats going on.
and then u have the ending that really cements its part of the series for me, the whole thing changes into what feels like almost hope which is a nice change for this series. it talks of moving forward, of getting new starts, it works in the theme of rain especially with urufu as the same base as uruoi wo from aru sekai shoushitsu, and then of course the "mata ibukuyou ni" being thematically similar to the "umareyou mou ichido" also from aru sekai shoushitsu
theres a lot of specifics in the whole thing & a lot of very specific word choice but i think that gets the point across for now
theres no extra text either but honestly the lyrics are quite enough context if u can decipher them
laboratory
this song is so heavy. like. up until now things have been left rather vague and theres room to doubt how dire everything is especially with how subjective the songs are but this.
this girl is losing her "self". thats the whole song. her just terrified and being completely unable to stop it even though she would do anything to change things. all that talk from the other songs about whos a "person" and whos a "thing" this is a "person" whos becoming a "thing" and doesnt have a choice in it. i dont know what she did. but this is her punishment for it. she ignored things she shouldn't've and now she cant be her "self" anymore.
this is telling us directly its not just the world theyre fighting for, theyre fighting for everything that makes them who they are too. it's traumatizing in its own way that they live through the end of the world repeatedly. but now shes living through the end of herself and she wont get another chance. and thats why theres no motif in this one. she is no longer a "person" she can no longer continue. theres also no extra text in this song.
thank u if u read the whole thing thats where we're up to right now!! i hope thats enough to at least get started. theres a lot of deep diving u can do in this series & its a lot of fun to keep up with as it happens bc sometimes a new song just clicks so many things into place.
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sentientgopro · 3 months
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Okay, screw it, It's been on my mind alot, I'm writing the damn mirror post so I can get it off my mind.
There's a song I listen to often that has a couple of lines about "breaking the mirror". I'm the type of person who feels the need to understand every line of every song they listen to, so I googled the meaning. (Side note, part of me felt like it was right to write girl instead of person and she instead of they? I almost always use gender neutral terms in anything I say online regardless of being about me, but feeling like saying she is not something I've done before. That was weird. Back to the point.)
So I don't know how commonly known it is or whether people still pay attention to old superstitions, but apparently breaking mirrors brings you years of bad luck, but eventually you'll be just fine.
And there's obvious parallels between this idea and transitioning. Things will get alot harder after you start, but you'll be infinitely better off when you start to reach the other side. Right now, I can live simply as a guy and not have to worry about the perils of being trans, but once I break the mirror, it's on.
But I can't get over how there's this really old symbolism of taking the very thing that displays who you are, and shattering it, and it's gonna cause alot of problems for a while, but then the reflection is restored, better than ever, and all the bad is washed away.
And this was just a neat little idea in my head, until I saw a CERTAIN game with a certain stereotype was on sale for like £3 and bought it. And oh my fucking God, mirror symbolism is EVERYWHERE, because of course it is. The very incarnation of the bad parts of Madeline literally come from looking herself in the mirror and breaking it. People have talked before about the heavy Mirror symbolism in Celeste, often mentioning trans people's relation to mirrors, but recontextualising that with the superstition and the things I just mentioned made it hit so hard for me when it clicked and I put it all together.
Now, I always knew this would be an aimless rant, but I still spent a while trying to think of a good way to tie it together but its not working. I'm just gonna talk about the lyrics now and how they reflect my specific situation. Its 4 lines, in pairs, in two seperate verses:
"I need time to break all the mirrors,
But my mind is in pieces and not ready to make it clearer."
"Time to make it all clearer,
And if time never ceases I'll be ready to break the mirror."
How often do you hear trans people talk about how theyre not ready, or theyre finding excuses for themselves, and they don't know why? I'm the same, but I genuinely have a rock solid excuse for myself, that I live in an unsupportive and overcontrolling household, so I couldn't even start doing anything in secret because of how restricted I am. I should be going to Uni in about a year and a half, so that's the starting point. But even if this wasn't the case, I dont think Id start transitioing yet, Im not ready, my mind is in pieces and not ready to make it clearer.
But that's the thing, it IS time to make it all clearer. Ive got time, with no pressure, to figure myself out and improve my mental state so that I'm in the best position possible to break the mirror. So as long as I never cease doing that, I'll be ready to break the mirror.
If you're wondering what the song is, It's The Gift by Kevin Sherwood and Elena Siegman. The rest of the song isn't a trans allegory or anything, I honestly couldn't tell you what most of it is about, it's from fucking COD: Black Ops 3 Zombies lmfao. Every map in the Zombies mode of the Black Ops games has a secret song, usually by Kevin Sherwood and often with Elena Siegman singing, but sometimes its a different vocalist.
The reason I'm mentioning all this is because the map this song is on is Literally called "Revelations". Yep, certainly having a few of them lmao.
So, thanks for reading this unhinged rant about mirrors that's probably unoriginal as shit, I'm going to cut this off Immediately before I launch into a rant about how good Kevin Sherwood's music is. Honestly, hes too good to be working on COD, not to mention how Elena Siegman has the voice of an angel and a demon at the same time, that girls range is insane. Fuck, Im already slipping into a rant, I just need to stop writi
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cassthecringe · 1 year
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Sorry to ask out of the blue like this, but I think Hierophant Green is a super underappreciated stand that's WAY more useful than people think. I love hearing your thoughts, so I was wondering if you have any fun Hierophant thoughts to share? I wanna see more love for this boy
I LOVE HIEROPHANT GREEN I LOVE HIEROPHNAT GREEN I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIS RIBBON SNAKE SQUID INSECT WHATEVER BULLSHIT HE IS SO GRUB TO ME HE IS MY BEST FRIEND
YES I LOVE HIEROPHANT GREEN let me get into some thoughts about him. let's see
okay so i've talked about this before but it pisses me off how people say "hierophant got rid of its only useful ability (mind control/painting cutting) and just went with emerald splash" WHEN THAT'S NOT FUCKING TRUE. yes kakyoin doesn't ask hierophant to ever use mind control again but HM I WONDER WHY THEY WOULD BE UNCOMFORTABLE USING MIND CONTROL. COULD IT BE BECAUSE THEY WERE MIND CONTROLLED AND DONT WANT TO STOOP TO THAT LEVEL. also people misunderstanding the painting thing pisses me off so hard omfg when kakyoin slashed the jotaro painting's leg he also slashes real life jotaro's leg with hierophant IT WASN'T SOME "IF I HURT THE PAINTING IT TRASNFERS TO THE REAL PERSON" BULLSHIT THEY LITERALLY EXPLAINED THIS GOD. finally the emerald splash thing like okay first of all not even true kakyoin's most useful and most utilized ability irt hierophant is his fucking range and tentacles (such as using them to, yknow, STAB? LIKE HOW HE STABBED JOTARO'S LEG?) like half the time emerald splash is used as a distraction and not an attack in of itself so OF COURSE it's not supposed to do much damage most of the time EVEN WHEN KAKYOIN WAS FACING DIO IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO KILL DIO BUT JUST ENCOURAGE HIM TO BRING HIS STAND OUT COME ON oh it pisses me off. oh my god. hierophant is SO USEFUL YOU GUYS ARE JUST SO STUPID </3
as for a character in of himself i think hierophant is great. incredibly introverted, more so than kakyoin himself. loves a little bit of killing and gore. just a little. as a treat.
i think hierophant and kakyoin had a bit of a rough beginning because i think kakyoin kinda hated him at first for making him so different. like...oh i don't know how to explain this. kakyoin has no qualms with being like, special. i think he liked thinking he was special and just inherently smarter, better, more focal i think he enjoyed that. what he didn't enjoy was that what made him special couldn't be shared in any meaningful way (so he thought) to people who couldn't see hierophant. he would never get to be a like, superman figure cause no one could see what made him super. i think kakyoin really resented hierophant for that as a kid i think he was very frustrated. i think hierophant as a result got as suicidal as a stand can get because of this. i dont think he'd come out much, only as thin tentacles if kakyoin called him. listen to the song "skeleton song" by kate nash to truly see my vision
BUT obviously kakyoin changes his stance on that and is like yknow what you're the only one who gets me so he apologizes and they get so close. hierophant loooves kakyoin that's his BOY. oh he loves him. he thinks he's so smart. he loves working alongside kakyoin in any form or fashion whether that be just existing in the same space as kakyoin, getting him things out of reach, outright fighting, etc etc. he loves his boy. i think hierophant enjoys wrapping around kakyoin's fingers as small sorta twine or draping around his shoulders in ribbons etc etc. they looove each other crying
WHICH ^ is why i think hierophant fucking hates jotaro at first lmfao. i've talked about this before but it's so real to me. he's so pissed this punk beat up his user and also dragged him out of his hiding place and INSULTED HIM (melon stand?? really??) so he is so mad. he doesn't want to kill jotaro cause jotaro did save kakyoin from the fleshbud but he's still miffed. always scooping sand into jotaro's shoes and hiding his belongings and shit. he is so mad. this changes after the lovers arc cause with being looped around the lovers the whole time, he got to hear jotaro praising kakyoin and hierophant left and right so he's like ok FINE whatever
i think hierophant really likes silver chariot and magician's red tho. of course hermit purple too. he's wary of splat at first esp with how splat will reach for him and touch him with no warning but they eventually get along too. yeah
uhhh. i think when kakyoin was dying hierophant shoots the final emerald splash and then twines around kakyoin's wound/chest as one final sorta hug before fading away
UM. yeah. hierophant. my friend. such a guy
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Hi Amber. I'm missing the good old days when Alpha Steve and little one were together ❤ 😢 I know that you don't have answer for me if they'll get their happy ending together or not. Right now, I'm fearing every possible outcome of Steve’s decision. I know why he did what he did but does he deserve to be forgiven by little one?? I don't know!!
Days ache and nights are long
Two years and still you're not gone
Guess I'm still holding on
Oh I hate to know I made you cry
But love to know I cross your mind
Babe oh I
Even after all it'd still wreck me
To find out you'd know how to forget me
Even after all this time
I'm not ready to let you forget me
(Even after all this time)
To let you forget me
This is song Forget me by Lewis Capaldi. I was listening to it and Alpha Steve and little one came to my mind immediately. My heart wants them to make up and be together but my mind says, No, Little one has to show him the brunt of his decision. I dont know Amber😭😭😭 my heart hurts for them. I always have a soft spot for our little one and Steve’s decision felt like a stab into my heart. I cried for her. She needs to her own person. Stronger than ever. Bolder than ever. But.... heart wants what it wants right... I really want him to feel the same hurt she is going through... she deserved nothing but love. I really really hope they find their way back to each other. My aching heart won't be able to survive, I'm a sucker for happy endings💖
PS: I really want them to sleep together while in wakanda. I hope they give in to each other.
Aww Babes, my heart breaks for you in this. I know how hard it is, the day I wrote him about making that choice for them, I cried, my heart broke for them because I didn't see the end, I didn't see if they could come back from this. I love that song choice. I have never heard it before so I'm gonna give a listen, but yes! I can see why the lyrics made you think of them.
You are right, as much as we want a happy ending, can Little One accept that she wasn't given what she's asked for from her Alpha- allowed to make her own choices.
Can Steve set aside his need to protect and have his mate be his equal?
(Ps. I really want them to reconnect on that level too. Just give into the demands being close brings, but oof the aftermath of feelings though.)
Have this little thought though, when I picture them in happier times, this is what some moments would look like for them.
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You felt warmth curl through your senses, your Little Wolf crooning in your mind as the familiar song echoed from far off, sending her bounding while calling back. A smile tugged at your lips as your human side felt eyes on you.
Fiercely blue in the sunlight under a golden brow that had tendrils of his hair falling over his forehead. A glance over your shoulder across the logging yard showed you your mate watching as you edged the rows of wild berries with Sara, plunking the ripened fruit into buckets. She promised to teach you how to make different jams to can from the upcoming winter.
You let a little smirking smile flash at him, making him straighten up that much more as in your bond you let your arousal show, seeing him in his sweat-streaked tee with it clinging to his muscled back diving all the way down to where his Carhartt hung on his narrow waist, you swore you felt his growl all the way over there.
Someone certainly did because Sam who was nearby twirled on his feet to see what was the cause of his Alpha's outburst. You looked sheepish enough to duck out of sight, giggling to yourself as you heard Sam exclaim quite loudly. "Man, will you focus on what we are doing?"
Steve growled something to his friend, the bond blazing between you with his intentions. You didn't have much time, tucking the bucket under a bush to find once more, you bolted, the summer dress you were wearing streaming behind you as you started for the cool mountain trails nearby, leading him away from the crew and somewhere more private.
A howl burst behind you, calling to you while you sprinted out of sight, Steve disappearing right behind you.
Sam huffed as he ran an arm across his forehead while muttering to himself when Sara snuck up on him, nuzzling against the back of his neck, running her tongue over his ear before whispering. "What excuse did Steve have?"
"He said to take the rest of the day off, he was indisposed." Sam yanked off the gloves he was wearing to toss them in the back of the truck. Sara should have known but she yelped and giggled when he swung around and scooped her up in his arms to set her on the tailgate. "Means you're all mine rest of the day."
His mate crooned as she pulled back further, Sam pulling himself into the back to follow her.
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el-velvis · 2 years
Text
Elvis x reader!
Warnings: sadness, m. of death, anxiety, fear of abandonment, mention of self harm, angst!
Story: You are locked at home, something is wrong, you dont feel the same...loved anymore....Elvis is some where outside and you are alone...
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"Found you when your heart was broke,
I filled your cup until it overflowed,
Took it so far to keep you close,
I was afraid to leave you on your own"
Tears were falling down your cheeks, lying on the bed hugging the pillow listening to this song that was like a friend to you,from the middle school this song was always there in your headphones, you wanted to fall in to a dark and deep hole and disappear from everyone and everything, you were sure that this day has been last more that it should have.
Your room was dark from the courtains that you closed after you returned home, your face was a mess, your makeup was now rolling down your cheeks and under your eyes, your ponytail was now soft , no longer on how at the beginning of the day.
"Tell me how's it feel sittin' up there,
Feeling so high but too far away to hold me,
You know I'm the one who put you up there,
Name in the sky,
Does it ever get lonely?"
You thought that maybe today would have been different from others, but, it didn't change anything, you felt anger and sadness in your body, you wanted to cry again and scream and punch the pillow, but it wouldn't help in any way.
You knew very well that the week would go on getting worse, you didn't want to leave the house anymore, you felt like crap, you didn't deserve to be in that bed. Thinking about it you don't know why you felt like this, everytime you were trying to relax or have fun, some intrusive thoughts crossed your mind like a fast falling star in the black and blue sky.
"y-you stupid... It's all your fault ... W-wha-what is wrong with you" you said to yourself, your voice was broken, another tear left your right eye, you couldn't even create sentences that you were broking more.
"Gave love 'bout a hundred tries,
Just running from the demons in your mind,
Then I took yours and made 'em mine,
I didn't notice 'cause my love was blind"
This sentece makes you bursting into tears,your demons in your mind were the love that you always gave to the wrong person, you always tried to give the best for your partner but it never return anything back, your lips were now crushing together to hide the horrible hiccups that you were doing, you tightened the pillow more and more trying to imagine someone who would be for you always, at that moment no one came to mind, you just tried not to think about how unlucky your life was...
"p-piece of sh-hit...." other curse words comes out your mouth, insulting you for something you didn't even know what it was, but you wanted to believe that the reason for your hatred and sadness life was your fault.
At some point the phone ring and you jump from the sound, you didn't want to answer, your legs were weak and your body was trembling, you didn't have the force to get up from the bed... After some rings there were silence, you thought that maybe the person that was now calling would leave you alone, you didn't want to deal with some shitty chats on the phone like "how are you?" "whats wrong with you, is everything fine?" "how's life been doing?" etc...
Your vision was now becoming blurry from all the tears that were falling down your eyes, your pillow was now all wet and your makeup was now splattered on the pillow, youre lips were trembling, all youre body was shaking, and more you listen to the lyrics of the Song and more the thought to slap and bit yourself for just existing was growing.
At some point your mind began to wander through the memories, one of them in particular happened a week ago, it was the week when Elvis had just left and you then stayed alone at home, obviously you did not expect to suffer so much his lack but in a way you were also very happy for him because he had left the city to go and record one of his new piece, You were really very happy for him because you had helped him from the beginning to overcome the insicuritues that sometimes he had and for sure you state close to him.
In the following days it happened that you were coming back from school when at a certain point one of the popular girls approaches you and starts to disturb you, you obviously knew what they wanted to tell you so you tried to walk faster, but that was not enough to stop them so they approaches "hy! But how are you! What a randomness to see both after School! Anyway I don't want to rush things and say something that maybe I should not say but... I heard that someone has left you" she said with a cocky tone you in that moment were very perplexed because you did not know what she was talking about, she saw your interogative expression and showed you a journal to show you the "proof".
It was a photo of Elvis and a girl who are kissing on it, So you at that moment already knowing very well what were the intentions of the girls were so you immediately said "I know what you want to do! stop immediatelyand leave me alone! you are just jealous..." she does not make you finish talking and continues "you know I do not quite catch how it is possible that a boy like him has managed to find a girl like you.. I mean look at him..." this quotes hits you so hard, back then and even now... You didn't want to stay and listen to a fan girl that was just crazy over someone....
The quote burn in your head for all the weak, but you didn't know that it was not the only thing that would have been difficult, two days before you started to be bullied at school, you were just trying to take notes and learn new things but the popular's girls and other people started to tormenting you obviously because you were his girlfriend.. They always try to teased you, you ran and ran away but every day that passed it was more difficult to overcome the thing, your life was becoming hell.
You tried so many Times to call Elvis, trying to reach for comfort but.. No one ever answered the phone, and more the days passed and more your thoughts became more heavy.
Why he never called me back then..
What he's doing right now..
You started think that maybe it was your fault if he started to date someone else...you weren't sure about that but the photos were evidente enough... Maybe you were not enough, you were not worthy
you are not.
The bruises you had on your legs and belly were just the beginning... It was all becoming too much.
All of a sudden the phone ringed again, you stare at the direction were the phone was lying, you decide then to got up and slowly put yourself up a bit, you could feel the pain in your neck and your back, your troath was screaming pain for all the scream you had before, you pull yourself up slowly place on the sheets the headphones and start walking to respond the phone, you arrived in front of it and didn't know what to do, you stare at the cornet for a little and then your pale hand just moves, picked up and put the telephone near your ear , you didnt respond immediatly you just wait a little, your breath was now forcing to stay normal,it was sheaky your palms were now all wet for the sweat, then you heard on the other line somone.
"y/n? Y/n are you there honey?" you heard a familiar voice, a deep and gentle voice tone was now speaking "y/n! If you are there please answer me!" the boy said trying to get an answer from you, you remained silent staring at the void, your eyes began to get wet again and turn red, you didn't want to hear him, not him....you didn't answer him.
"baby please! Im here now! What's wrong? What's gotten in to you those days? Im so worried about you!" he said with a presumibly worried tone, you scoffed at that phrase and finally spoke "worried...mh..." he seem so happy that you answered "oh god thank you! You are here! I missed you so much hon-" you didn't let him finish the sentence that you scream at him "DON'T!" you could feel the troath that was now closing without saliva and felt the pain increase, there were a moment of silent before his response "honey?....what's wrong why are you-" he said "i. Said...." you take a big sigh "d-on't call me... Pet names..." you answered with your trembling voice, he was shocked from your reaction, he didn't realize what was happening and he was worried about you, but you didn't know that "listen Elvis.. I don't want to talk or... Even see you understand? Im not feeling good right now and i really dont want no one with me..." he than respond immediatly "what? Oh baby don't be like this plea-" "I SAID DON'T CALL ME THAT, I HATE THAT! just stop trying to make it like you care about me because all you ever have done was just caring about that stupid carrier of yours and never AND I SAY NEVER GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME...." you started crying, tears were falling down like waterfalls and your voice was now cracking " i-i was... I-... Oh god.... " silence from the other part of the phone, you wanted to end your life right there in that moment" i-i never wanted something like this... I never did something bad to the world and i think... I don't deserve this kind of relationship... Maybe i am the wrong one here, maybe i deserve all this hate.... I don't know... I-i geniually don't have the idea why i-i..im like this.! .." your voice was now all high and hiccups... Your face was all red for the pain of your troath and for your tears..." you... Left me Elvis, i was so happy about you that i geniually didn't care about the long distante between is but, i heard.... Some rumors.... About you... An-and i j-just....didn't expect that, that's all" he realized what you were talking about because for his job he had to do so many works with other people, and most of them were girls...he started talk again "No no! Y/n i swear is not like that! It was only for work really!" he tried to explain but you didn't want to listen, weren't able anymore to talk and all he could hear was you crying and screaming, your knees get weaker and you fall to your knees, a tumb was heard from the other side of the call.
"i-i don' know... I-i just wanted to be loved and... And all i recived was nothing!...i-Im sorry i - if i did something wrong! I-i didn't mean too..." he remain silent, no words cane out of his mouth, he was just pissed with himself, all the words that wanted to tell you in that moment were now vanished from his mind, he wanted to tell you how much he missed you because... He loved you... His job was so messed up and uncontrollable that he had to stay away from you for so long, it never happened before, he didn't imagine such a thing, now hearing your cold and hurted words he just wanted to beat himself hard until he let the blood out of his temples, he never wanted such a thing to happen...
"y/n....believe me please, i didn't do anything.. And all you saw is just some stupid journalist that like to create new story even if they're not real.. Please, i would never do such a thing to you.. A-and" you could hear his voice trembling, his jaw narrow and tried to speak up " i didn' t know 'bout all of that...'m so sorry i wasn't there... You should have called me y' know.." he said "should have called you? Are-are you joking?" you said with all the air in your lungs "i-i tried so many Times Elvis but you weren't there... YOU WEREN'T THERE, EVEN FOR ONE CALL! So stop saying bullshit because we all know how it is..." you said with a cold and angry tone, your words were shiny and sharp as a knife.
Before he could respond after you calmed a bit yourself, took deep breath you finally spoke "I-i think... Elvis i think i better go now, maybe you are right, maybe it was just my imagination..." there was a time if silence of you too and then you chuckle a bit "you know... I always thought that one day i would be loved and for the first time i was just happy and all but, i think i was just stupid and egoista to think something like that... Maybe i dont deserve anything of This.... Maybe..." after that you said something that made chills ran down his spine "maybe i don't deserve this life..."
What you were talking about, he thought for a second and you continue ".... Thank you for everything Elvis .. I loved you..." you were breaking up with him, with your voice that was now all high and crucked you then didn't even listen to what he was saying that you end up the call.
You, on your knees, staring at nothing, tears that were still falling down your cheeks, your life now ended in a second, one call changed your life upside down... You got up weakly, trying to Sand with your hands on the wall and the start walking towards the bed, you fall on it and in a minute you were sleeping. All your life you had imagined finding a person who was always by your side, you were lucky enough to find Elvis, but going on with time as much as you could be close to him it seemed that he was moving away from you, all your memories with him were now just a black cloud that went away like a long rainy day that now disappeared.
That Magic sparkle that was growing in the beginning was now only a hole, a big hole in your heart.
you know that you wouldn't get up from that bed for a long time.
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Hi guys i hope you like this, in This period i dont feel so good, I wanted to represent the situation a bit, i hope there aren't much grammar error, let me know if you want a continue or if you have an idea for a next story, love you! ❤️
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tradetobest · 9 months
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can you tell me more about these aus you have 👀
FUCKING ABSOLUTELY I CAN.
so the first one is the golf course au which i mentioned like. yesterday i think? which is basically just a bunch of nhlers working at a golf course because one day early in my liking of the nhl i went "ahah what if mitch did turf and saw auston and was like. Oh." because often golfers have like schedules and shit and come at the same day every week and stuff so. it basically started as a 1634 meet cute idea and exploded.
what happened is that i got into more teams in the nhl and my favourite players sort of just slotted into different roles at the golf course/as golfers.
(the reason a golf course, if that lore matters, is that i worked at one on turf so i was like ough.... minch turf worker. also my mom used johnny's golf cart once and so. i have a personal connection to the leafs golf stuff. epic.)
some highlights id say from the au are mechanic kris letang (and like. apprentice pojo) and sid and claude's rivalry (centring around who can do a full greens circuit fastest), and mceichel being a professional golfer tandem who slay on the course together.
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uniform for the golf workers (there are shirt variations but like... im lazy)
i love this au because i loved my job and i feel like mitch would also love my job so yeah!! i have all my favourite (slash players related to my favourite) guys split up and it just makes me happy!!
the second one is based off of a musical called starlight express which i love because. i dont know. anyway.
i wanted to see my faves as trains, so i did so much fucking research on trains (including deeper and deeper research on many countries but specifically russian rail lines because holy shit, cross referenced with both the types of trains i wanted people to be and the different colours of trains that exist!!)
it was literally an excuse for me to draw the boys as trains in one of my favourite musicals, and basically devolved into me being like oh!! train races!! oughhhh .... ouhhhh train races ohh. because if you dont know anything about starlight express (which i would be surprised if you did) its basically about trains racing. there's also the final song in the musical is saurrrr hockey to me idk why... "There are dark days ahead/When the power goes dead/When the oil runs dry/What can we try?" to me any day i will go crazy....
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heres some of my outfit doodles!! auston is a bnsf freight train, which both look better than union pacific trains to me and also go through arizona!! mitch is a go train passenger car, tyler is a go locomotive, sid is a cn freight train, geno is a freight train on the yuzhno-uralskaya railway (specifically the chelyabinsk railway division), leon is a deutsche bahn train (specifically an electric passenger locomotive), and connor is an lrt. prettyyy sure his colour scheme is that of the edmonton lrt (just checked, it is). none of them are steam trains. sorry andrew.
im the biggest giantest fan of mitch and tylers costumes because i will always have a special little place in my heart for the go train, although i dont use it much anymore. i also mourn that nobody ever is just from fucking toronto so i cant draw the subway or anything. maybe ill introduce busses give johnny an orange costume and call him the miway for a joke. anyway.
i guess theres no plot it was kinda just an excuse for me to make a stex au but. i did so much research and i still think about it all the time because i insane so.... yeah. thanks for biting my very obvious bait to get asked about my aus.....
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papirouge · 7 months
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the jpop anon... again 😳
yeah, its pretty obvious that kpop groups do get super prepared and photoshopped to hell in promotional pictures. thats why when you look up their photos from like, award shows or other live events like that, sometimes they may look a lil different. like again, i mentioned snsd, their legs look super skinny in promotional material and videos, but in photos of live events, some girls legs for example look bigger. theyre still thin ofc, just not stick thin.
and like you mentioned, jpop idols arent expected to be perfect or have a flawless look. many times, part of the appeal of a japanese idol is watching her grow and get better and more profesional, which i think its one of the reasons kpop is ages more popular than jpop; many times ive heard o read people say how impressed they are with the complex choreographies of korean groups, something that jpop idols rarely perform. kpop idols debut when they already have achieved some good "performance level" for a lack of better terms.
you know, i dont think every idol company does this, but i always though it was super cool how helloproject actually forbid their idols from having plastic surgery. thats why many of them look so different from another, and i think its awesome theyre not pressured to change their appearances to fit some modernr beauty standard. also apparently they cannot wear braces, i think its because it can affect your singing ability, though it may just be an aesthetic thing, and those inside braces can actually damage your tongue which is not what a singer would want. like you know how airi suzuki has a tooth thats a little behind the others and she has never "fixed" it? i just mention this because i have that literal exact same tooth in the same place. in fact, we have the same smile, which i think is sorta cool.
oh, and i never could get into akb48. i dont know why, they just never caught my eye. the only songs i tried to listen to were heavy rotation and koisuru fortune cookie since theyre so popular and i just wasnt a fan (also wtf with the heavy rotation MV?).
i also cant find those stray kids attractive. same goes for bts. and yeah, i also though they looked like AI xD. i just thought it was a little mean to say. and i never got why bts got so popular, though to be fair the only songs ive ever heard from the were those english ones like dynamite and butter (i think that what its called). theyre just... not that amazing what can i say,..
i liked berryz koubou. they always stood out when you watched them due to having such an interesting assortment of girls: you had two big girls with risako and maasa, the super tall yurina, the very short momoko and captain, chinami who was very skinny and had a darker complexion than the rest, and you also had risako constantly changing her hair color and miyabi dying her hair blonde or orange and wearing light color lenses. i always though goofy berryz (like in yuke yuke monkey dance) or serious berryz (like jiriri kiteru or ai wa itsumo kimi no naka ni) were the best berryz. it was so weird when they tried to shove them into sexy roles like in want! or ai no dangan, the girls look so awkward. and you cannot expect me to find momoko sexy when in concerts she would perform those sexy songs with those wretched pigtails of her...
I think that's something you addressed in your ealier posts, but I lowkey disagree with the fact that ugly people are fated to remain the 'ugly one' in the band even after ps because there are legit extremely good surgeons doing wonders. You can make drastic changes to a face and still have compelling results
Look at AngelaBaby who's the blueprint for every east Asian girl seeking to achieve the eurasian look
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They look like 2 different person, but right still looks like what a natural very pretty Eurasian woman would look
The problem is going overboard with plastic surgery, which is why she ended messing up with her unecessary chin implant that makes her look botched. She should've stopped in 2009.
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Kpop idols simply look botched bc they are cheap surgeons ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯
Japan is indeed less heavy with plastic surgery but idols, even underage, undergo plastic surgery xD they are just more lowkey and hypocrite about imo (that's the only redeeming thing with the Kpop industry imo ; they're pretty straightforward in their heavy course of beautification so people don't get gaslighted in thinking those people were born like this)
Look at Sayumi Michishige and Reina Tanaka who respectively got their eyelid and eyelid+nose done
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Japan will accept crooked teeth, but not monolid lmaooo
And it was already the case with OG Momusu
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Tsuji Nozomi waited to graduate to do eyelid surgery though - it's lowkey hilarious how both she and her husband got the same procedure on the same time(?)😭
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And yeah I see what you mean with teeth thing of airi Suzuki. Naoki Umeda had the same feature and it made him super cute. I will forever miss UmeTsuba 😭😭
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That being said, while it's true that those imperfections will fly because idolship is all about seeing little girls grow into womanhood, it's pretty significant to see how quick former idols switch into conventional beauty after graduating. Japan is extremely ageist with women, and things young girls have been elevated for, will be helf against them past a certain age.
There's something dread9ful with the Heavy Rotation MV.... "Mystery Night" (by Angerme (formerly S/Mileage)) lyrics are pretty awful too. All of them were underage, singing about hitting up with a rando during a party...
Koisuru Fortune Cookie was AKB48 peak. I never got into their music but the MV was great - it's pretty rare to have idol MV with that much work done (I think Heavy Rotation MV, as disgusting it was, very polished - isn't its artistic director the same woman who directed Helter Skelter?)
Berryz Kobo went off out of nowhere for "Ai wa Itsumo Kimi no Naka ni" lol I like when idols do assertive songs. That's why I also loved "Otome no Gyakushuu" by Angerme ("Counterattack of the maiden"). But imo nothing will ever top the aesthetic of Momoiro Clover Z for "Birth Ø Birth" - absolutely iconic
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gentil-minou · 1 year
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YOUR 2521 ASK REPLY, YES TO ALL OF IT. god, this drama could've been top 3 dramas of all time if it wasn't for the ending. never going to forgive them giving us a story about hope and love, and friendship only to end it that way. like you said, if they wanted me to BELIEVE these characters would do this to each other, you shouldn't save it for the last 2 episodes. they were literally not wanting to let go of each other at the bus stop. the writer could've easily fixed the story then. they couldn't be apart or not care about the other that they RAN TO FIND EACH OTHER, CRYING, HOLDING ON TO EACH OTHER, THEY DID NOT WANT TO LET GO. also... when people say its realistic... not for them, it made no sense for them. like you said, they built such an amazing foundation as friends and suddenly they break up and suddenly, they can't ever speak to the other again apparently??? how is that realistic? even if they did break up, u cant convince me heedo and yijin wouldn't have kept in touch. also, heedo carrying yijin everywhere with her, from the rainbow chairs to writing what she did on her daughter's ballet shoes, to her looking like she still feels grief about them not being together. btw idk if you know but they were planning to add a shot of heedo's husband with their daughter when she was younger getting on a bus, and im glad they didnt use it cus where have you even been? the way heedo's face lights up when she talks about him or when her mom mentions him. the way shes constantly saying 'thats life.. nothing lasts forever' god i hate it. like yeah but how do you not remember a trip you took with someone you cared deeply about and also your new friends. for the first time in your life, these were your actual friends. things dont last bc you dont put effort into them anymore, obviously sometimes life gets in the way but we started this show in the time of the pandemic... would've been so nice to see them still connect with each other at the end on video call or something. i knew the show was based off this song about lost love, but i actually thought the writer was way too hopeful with her characters to actually end it on a bad note. i thought it wouldve been the same intentions til the end but the last 2 eps felt like they threw darts to pick an ending. 9/11?? bro come on. anyways sorry this is so long, i have lots of feels about it but ironically i miss the characters so much im on my like 4th rewatch (where i skip older heedo and the last 2 eps) but ngl, it never feels right when i end it there :'(
E X A C T L Y
Literally yes to all of this. None of it made any damn sense and it had to be that the director and writer were telling two different stories. In kdrama land, I think the writer only needs to have the first few scripts ready for the production to pick it up and that's why the director and actors chose it cause those first few eps are like among the best episodes over ever watched. I feel like they starred the drama thinking it would end a certain way and when it didn't the writer didn't want to change her story to adapt to the characters (which to be fair I get that it's her story). It just feels like a major disconnect between the production team and God I will never be okay
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dojae-huh · 2 years
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I kind of disagree with u, it's not just them bickering but also how they handle situations that are unplanned. Haechan reacts and acts better in situations where he has no idea what was happening. As for hyuck being  lose to dreamies, I can tell u that he's close to both jisung and change who are being abused in the fandom for making fun of hyuck being tan, they're friends and they know what is ok. These three are usually together at chenles house and are close enough to spend time together.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fnllum1xFGk&ab_channel=qzhcl
In the hyungline in dreamies, I seriously believe hyuck is closer to jeno now then he is to mark. Maybe it's my opinion but look at jeno with hyuck, hes more accepting and also more playful with him. Mark not letting huuck call him mark is an issue still, I agree with u that hyuvk hates not ring allowed to not call Mark hyucg as he's allowed the other 2000 line to. Sometimes we all forget that we need to give a lot of ourselves in friendships too, and it seems like mark doesn't have the time and hyuck has found hyungs in 127 how treat him like one of them
Haechan and jisung are sibling like, he makes jisung work for him like doyoung does with him. Chenle is close to jisung so he comes along to everything, and haechan feels comfortable enough to stay at his house and play with his dog while chenle isn't there. Hyuckil is very much I believe for the camera, they're not as close as they act on screen, yuta and haechan understand eachother but aren't close the same with jungwoo and haechan. p.S. if haechan had issues with being tanner then the rest he would have done what kai and taemin did an got injections to make themselves less tanned. so i dont get why fans have to argue abt friends making fun of eo
Thank you for the overview on Dreamies.
We evidently have different definition for "mature".
Doyoung not being able to work quickly when he is taken by surprise is a side effect of his psychotype. It doesn't happen all the time, by the way, only when feelings take over (Jaehyun interrupting Do's IG live). He is a great MC and a variety host exactly because he can read the situation, think on the go and improvise. Remember Hyuk in the presence of his idol Taemin, the boy also was lost.
As for Tae. He has many childish tendencies, he wants to be a child, but when the time calls he takes on the leader's responsibilities. One of the good examples was when Jaehyun was attacked in the chat by knets, and Doyoung had troubles collecting himself and MCing. Taeyong was the one to help to move the live, safe the situation.
One thing I can agree on is Hyuk being more mature at his current age than Doyoung was at that age. As well as Haechan not letting his age hinder him. Doyoung doesn't think that he is old enough to "make it his way", he indoctrinated the Korean age hierarchial system. He is 26 but appeals to the older men as a maknae. Haechan doesn't care about it, so he is able to "want" things right here right now (like song producing) and insist to stand on the same footing as his hyungs, playnig the maknae card when it suits him, but not living up to it.
However, when it comes to responsibility, future planning, allocating time to thing that progress his career (like learning Japanese), reigning in his own emotions for the sake of work and others - Doyoung is very mature. I think we are so used to the current ever-patient and obliging Doyoung, that many tend to forget at what cost he does all of it. He is a very reactive and sassy person, used to overpowering others with words, but he leaves it for Gongmyung.
For me "being mature" is the ability to play the role of The adult when it's needed, take responsibility and not blame the circumstances or others. A person can be as childish and as playful when there is freedom to do so. And, of course, everyone have their weak points. With Do it's his proclivity to taking offence and keeping grudges.
About Haechan's darker skin. You know well fans tend to pick at anything, they want a reason to be overprotective. Doyoung also jokes about Hyuk's skin, but Hyuk understands it's a joke because the same Doyoung also praises his skin a lot. I'd assume it's the same with Jisung and Chenle.
It's not like Mark doesn't have the time at all. He does have time for Jungwoo afterall. I remember in 2018 Hyuk was talking about watching movies together with Mark, but nowadays it's hard to see MarkHyuk spending time in waiting rooms together. Mark seemingly just finds Woo more compatible, someone he doesn't need to fight with, who finds his humour funny, and such. When neos are asked about 1 vs 5 Haechans, all of them reply "5 y.o.". Hyuk is too much, even with hyungs he goes from one to another (Do->Taeil->Jae). Mark is a maknae but wants to be a hyung, his habit of calling everyone "cute" and constantly "petting" others is one of the signs. He would be that "I'm the head of the house" husband (with a sly manipulative wife that turns the head? haha).
I don't think HyukIl is for the camera, they do go out to eat together, created a song, work well as co-MCs, Taeil says only positive things about Hyuk in interviews. Taeil doesn't get too close to anyone in 127, however. He is there to be a nice hyung, but he doesn't invest emotionally. And you said it yourself, Hyuk wants lots of love. Not to be taken in a wrong way, but Taeil is a bit self-centered, he is a chill person, but what he wants matters most. He'd rather learn to play (his new hobby) pool than go with others to walk streets in America. He'd also cook the same kind of meat as long as he wants, not paying attention to "let's try something else, hyung" demands from Woo. He isn't a care-taker, neos even joke about him as a leader and as a fake maknae.
Doyoung, on the other hand, gives in to Hyuk even when he is annoyed or distracted with something else.
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