#also think about volume over outline

[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

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

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

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

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

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

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

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

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

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

"How bad?" He asked.

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

"I'm—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

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

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

A guy could dream though, right?

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

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo?”

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

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

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

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

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

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

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

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

A guy could dream, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

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

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

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

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

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

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

“But!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

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

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

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

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

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

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

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

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

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

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

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

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

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

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

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

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

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

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

Wonder what that was all about…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What'd you say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Civility is overrated!"

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

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

You. Oh my god, you were here.

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

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

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

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

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

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

Pretty…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

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

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

"Hey!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you know the lyrics?"

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

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

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

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

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

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

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

"Ah." You could empathize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed. "Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOU had been keeping a secret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

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

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sat up. “What do you—”

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

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

“You’re not an idiot.”

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

“Superstar?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

han !!: okay bye chicken

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

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

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

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

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

"That's actually so incorrect—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think so, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still?"

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

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

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

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

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"—wait, Yangyang—"

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

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

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

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

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

It rang twice. "Yo."

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

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

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

"I'm coming over."

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

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo looked up.

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made him feel strange again.

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

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

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

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

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

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Normal, as in back to before?"

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

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

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

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

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

"I'll take that as a compliment."

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

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

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

"Crazy good or…?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

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

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

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

And, well, you both had groceries to put away.

"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.

He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."

"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."

"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."

You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."

That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."

You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."

"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.

You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.

When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"

EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—

SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.

"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."

With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.

Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"

"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"

Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."

Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"

Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."

He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.

Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?

But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?

Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.

Then it clicked.

Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."

A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."

Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"

JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."

Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.

He sulked and didn't say anything.

"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.

"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"

Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."

"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"

Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"

"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.

"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."

"Shut up!"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.

Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?

Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.

"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"

Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."

Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."

Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"

"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"

"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.

She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?

The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"

The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.

— ✶

You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.

As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.

"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.

After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.

In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—

He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.

"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.

"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"

You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"

His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."

Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."

You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.

He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."

He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."

You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"

You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.

"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.

The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.

"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.

You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."

He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."

"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."

With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."

a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!

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#kflixnet #bjnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo x reader #the boyz drabble #the boyz oneshot #the boyz fluff #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagines #kim sunwoo scenarios #kim sunwoo drabbles #kim sunwoo oneshots #kim sunwoo imagines #kim sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo drabbles #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo oneshots

[ranchstoryblog]

Ranch Story Community Q&A Volume 3: Igusa Matsuyama Returns!

Igusa Matsuyama, the legendary artist behind the Story of Seasons series since the original 1996 game has once again agreed to a Q&A featuring questions from fans from around the world! A big thank you to all the members of the community who helped make this possible.

Some aspects of the text have been altered to match localization people are familiar with. (Japanese names to English names, for example: Bokujou Monogatari (牧場物語) was formerly localized as Harvest Moon and is now localized as Story of Seasons, etc). Images were not part of the original text and have been added as a visual aid. Though we translated as many questions as we could, we did not include questions involving personal information or regarding unannounced releases. Please understand.

If you would like to read our original correspondence (in Japanese), that will be provided in a separate post.

Additional cosplay photo provided by Foxface from our community Discord.

Translations: @artycharmy (correspondence, outline) Editing and Clean-up: Jerome, @artycharmy, and @regularcelery

——— Anonymous asks: What is the relationship between Jamie and the Harvest Goddess?

Igusa Matsuyama: Jamie was treated as a fairy or spirit. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if there's any points that link them and the Goddess.

Editor's note: the term Matsuyama uses is "妖精."

Tomato asks: I would like to ask about what their inspiration was for the outfits designs in the original release of harvest moon another wonderful life. Since I got reminded of the girl clothing brand Mezzo Piano when looking at the I love Kuma/I love bears outfit.

Igusa Matsuyama: I remember the only thing I thought of was using Spring-like colours! (All designs were made with seasonal colours In mind) When I knew that Daachan, who was planned to be used in a lot of events, wouldn't actually play a big role in the game, I put him on the T-Shirt so he could at least get some attention as a mascot-like existence.

Pansy asks: If you were able to create your own game for the Story of Seasons franchise, with no rules or limitations whatsoever, what do you think it might look like?

Igusa Mastuyama: Since I love dogs, I'd like to try making a Story of Seasons that's set in a world just full of dogs. Though that dream of mine probably won't come true.

Anonymous asks: The look of Story of Seasons has changed a lot over the years! What would you say is more challenging to create - simple designs, where you have to work with very little space, or complicated designs, where you have to consider many little details?

Igusa Matsuyama: A long time ago there were a lot of things you weren't able to replicate in video games. There were constraints for things like the number of colours and patterns for hair styles and clothes. It was difficult to work around those constraints, but at the same time a lot of fun. Nowadays, it's the complete opposite. Now we can design anything with hardly any constraints. And unlike a long time ago, now I'm asked to make more complicated designs, like patterns and decorations. However, if it's a big request, sometimes I run into quite a lot of trouble when designing. They each have had their own difficulties.

Anonymous asks: Hello, Matsuyama! Thank you for bringing the worlds of Bokujou Monogatari to life for many years. Your art has had a huge influence on me!

One of my favorite candidates is “Rock” from “A Wonderful Life.” I’d love to know any particular influences for his character design from 21 years ago, and his new design for the remake.

Igusa Matsuyama: I was told that he was a young, wannabe playboy, so I somehow ended up with that sort of design. For the remake, I made his clothes a little looser without changing his design, so he'd look even more playful. I, too, wanted to avoid changing him as much as I could as there are other people among the staff that also like the original for his “Rockness”. So, he got that makeover after everybody shared and checked their opinions with each other.

Jerome asks: On page 130 of the "Special Comic" manga there's artwork of Super Famicom characters that have never been printed anywhere else. Do you or Marvelous still have these? It would be great to see them in more detail in the future some time.

Igusa Matsuyama: They're all characters that appeared in the SNES version of "Harvest Moon." Nina's parents, Ellen's mother, Ann's father, Maria's parents (The mayor couple). I'm sorry. My SNES illustrations have gone missing...

Raven Bloom, Ryan, and Moth ask: How did you feel when your designs for the men in A Wonderful Life were repurposed to be bachelors? What do you think of the changes made to the bachelors in the remake of A Wonderful Life? I miss the “Bruce Campbell” look Matthew used to have.

Igusa Matsuyama: Matthew (マシュー) is Masshu (マッシュ) in the Japanese A Wonderful Life (Editors note: Charmy made a careless mistake when translating the questions, sorry Matsuyama san 🫣) When I first heard this name, the first thing that came to mind was Evil Dead's protagonist, Ash. You're right. I designed him after Bruce Campbell. I still love Bruce Campbell today. When Wonderful Life was under production, I had heard they weren't going to make a girl version, so I designed him not as a love interest, but as a quirky character. Knowing that he'd appear in the remake as a marriage candidate, I redesigned him as a character that would be liked by many. I hope you can enjoy the game for its nostalgia, as well as for being a shiny, brand new release.

Salmon Axe and Anonymous ask: I personally adore Doraemon x SOS game. Are you interested in working directly with or collaborating with other franchises in the future? And is there a series outside Story of Seasons you would like to work with now as a guest artist? (Could it be Pokemon?)

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved Doraemon manga since I was a kid! Working as a guest artist? Hmm, I'm happier being the main illustrator, so nothing in particular comes to mind. I enjoy a lot of games in my free time, such as Fallout, Far Cry and Border Lands.

Anonymous asks: Even though we never see his face, was there ever a concept of how Woofio would look without his costume?

Igusa Matsuyama: I designed Woofio as the being that is Woofio, so there's no design of him without his costume.

Idris asks: Your style has upgraded a lot over the time to match the trends. Do you think you will ever go for an old school look (early HM) for a SoS game again? What do you think is the secret to your art’s charm?

Igusa Matsuyama: What I'm particular about when designing for Story of Seasons is making characters with head/body proportions and an atmosphere that go well with that release. First, I listen to the client's request then think of a design according to that. These days, game visuals have gotten fancier and fancier, so there's not many opportunities for characters with short proportions to make an appearance. To me, what's important when designing is "playfulness." More so than "pretty" or "cool" and such, I get attached to the character, have fun making the character. I find joy in character creation itself.

MacGyver asks: Yasuhiro Wada has shared some interesting stories about how chaotic the original game's development was. Is there anything interesting you remember from around that time? 

Igusa Matsuyama: Now it's a memory I can look back on and laugh about, but I'm not sure how much I can talk about it so please forgive me. If Wada hadn't been there back then, then "Harvest Moon" wouldn't have become a thing.

Toyberb and Anonymous ask: There’s a lot of different cow designs now, which is your favorite to draw?

Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved drawing animals since I was a kid, so I love all of the cows. Although the easiest one to draw is the cow with the big nose.

Anonymous asks: Were there any games where you made designs for protagonists of genders that did not end up available to play as? (Like a girl protagonist for Save the Homeland/Hero of Leaf Valley or a nonbinary protagonist for any game before A Wonderful Life)

Igusa Matsuyama: There's so many designs that got scrapped, but as far as I recall, there's not really many where that character's setting itself was scrapped. (Excluding Thumbelina, mentioned below)

Koharu asks: Were there ever any character designs made for other older SNES characters like Ellen for 64? Some magazines had Marie with blue hair, like the SNES character, so it made me wonder if she (SNES Maria) was meant to also be there at some point.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm not in the position to make settings or scenarios where characters from other games appear, so I can't say, but I like the idea of older characters making an appearance!

Amina/k0iisu asks: Hello! I really love Hiro’s design specifically. Could you tell me a few facts about him/his design that might not be well known information? Thank you so much! I love your art :D

Igusa Matsuyama: Thank you very much! Hiro is a future doctor, so I tried to make them look as much like a doctor as I could. Also, to make him look friendlier, I designed him as your average everyday boy you'd see in the neighbourhood. He doesn't have a flashy face or hairstyle, but he's one of my favourite designs, too. I wrote this in the guidebook too, but what I like about him is the Asian flair I added to his clothes and the spot of colour around his feet.

Bunbun asks: I'm excited for the Nendoroid that was announced of Claire! I hope there will be ones of HM64 designs too. Since you have a lot of figures on your blog, how does it feel to be able to add one of your own characters to your collection? Are there any of your other characters you hope will get figures of?

Igusa Matsuyama: A nendoroid of Claire! I'm looking forward to it too, but when is it going to be released? If it's possible, I'd like one of Woofio.

Editor's note: Preorders are open for Nendoroid Claire now!

Chickee asks: A purple-haired princess character was rumored to have existed in Harvest Moon 64, but she didn't make it to the published game. Did you create a design for this character?

Igusa Matsuyama: That's probably Princess Thumbelina. Wasn't she Incredibly small? What I designed didn't end up being used. Speaking of HM64 characters, I pushed for them to include a pet turtle, but in the end it only appeared as an ornament. For A Wonderful Life, I asked for a turtle to be included again and designed a tortoise with a scarf, but it didn't make it as a pet and appeared only as a wild turtle that walks around the pond. I'm waiting for the day they finally include a pet turtle in the game.

emery flower147 asks: omg  I saw the pics where the AWL girls are in a team and Muffy has a shotgun and stuff? Do you think any other characters would work in a cool team like that?

Igusa Matsuyama: For the Friends of Mineral Town guide book, I had the five girls, Popuri, Marie, Ran, Elly and Karen work hard as Harvest Sprites. Also, for the guide books, I drew Pete (The old male protagonist), Sarah (The GB version female protagonist), and Claire doing whatever I wanted them to. I don't know if you can call it cool or not, but it was fun being in charge of that.

Ixur asks: A lot of the PoOT character designs for the regular villagers seem more popular than the marriage candidates in my region. Is that something that's been noticed by you/Marvelous in Japan? Lars, Clemens, Beth, and Misaki for example.

Igusa Matsuyama: Marvelous doesn't really talk about that sort of thing so I'm not sure if they're aware of it or not. I don't do social media so I'm also not sure which characters are popular. I'm happy as long as the characters are liked. The design on Lars’s shirt is modeled after my beloved dog, so I’d be especially happy if you like his shirt too.

Anonymous asks: What do you think about people cosplaying your designs?

Igusa Matsuyama: It makes me very happy! I'm no good at sewing, so I really admire people who can make their own clothes. It's an honour having the designs I made be made into real clothes, and I think it's great to have fun acting out the characters.

Afro Fae asks: When creating designs for characters, how do you settle on a specific color palette? Do you take color meanings into account with a character's personality or do you go purely off of feeling?

Igusa Matsuyama: I keep in mind the overall colours the client asked for while designing. Sometimes I propose a new colour when I think there's one that fits better. I'm also careful when choosing colours and everyone's traits to make sure it's easy to tell which character is which when seen from a distance. However, in the cases of families and such, I do the opposite and give them all a common colour to give them a sense of kinship.

———

From all of us at Ranch Story, we'd like to thank Matsuyama from the bottom of our hearts for answering our questions again! Whether a fan has only just discovered the series or has grown up alongside it, so many people have loved these characters and worlds that Igusa Matsuyama brings to life, so it feels truly special to be able to have this opportunity. We'll end this article with Matsuyama's own words, as well as a parting gift.

Igusa Matsuyama: I'm so glad I could answer your questions again. I'm the one that should be saying thank you. It means the world to me knowing that everyone enjoys my illustrations! I added an illustration as thanks. I'll keep up the hard work!

#story of seasons #harvest moon #igusa matsuyama #magical melody #claire #harvest sprite #marie #popuri #karen #elly #ran #a wonderful life #harvest moon 64 #matthew #cosplay #evil dead #ash j williams #bruce campbell #jamie #harvest goddess #fallout

[andraxicated]

Artem wing x detective! Reader quickies at the crime scene. Very unprofessional but they just can’t help themselves 😩🥴

tw: fucking at a crime scene, creampie, unprotected sex, risky Artem

a/n: I have to admit I don't play tot and genshin anymore hshshshs. because I hit the endgame in both games and everything I do is so repetitive like leveling characs, daily tasks, the content in general, etc.

I apologize for this super late writing anon :(( You get to bonk me with a baguette for this.

Artem considers himself to be on the right path in terms of his morals. But when you suddenly came over into his life, he had been recently questioning himself if he was still doing the right thing.

Because it is definitely not ethical to be having a tent in his pants as you talk away about the clues found by the forensic team or the maid's testimonies about the robbery that happened.

His blue eyes scan the entirety of the area. The house is a mess with shattered windows, broken vases, shelves missing something expensive—and the inviting expanse of your skin by the collar—

Artem momentarily coughed, a blush appearing on his cheeks. You raised an eyebrow, asking if he's alright but he nods anyway as he motions for you to continue.

"As I was saying, some of the maids' testimonies do not match so we need to interrogate them further..." Your voice drifts off in his consciousness. Artem remembers the steps you took in front of him and how your pants had shown the outline of your underwear. And he also bashfully recalls how both of you spent the night together before, your moans of his name like a mantra in his head.

"Artem! Artem~ Hnghh, I love you." You moaned, leaving bite marks all over his neck as he fills you up below.

He feels like a fucking pervert yet it turns him on even further.

"Artem Wing! What is happening to you?!" Your voice pierces through his daydreams, the tone a stark contrast to your lovely moans.

Artem's cheeks are tinted pink, eyes clouded with memories, and both of his hands clasped together right above his crotch as if he's hiding something.

"What are you doing?"

He could only pull his coat closer to his body to hide the bulge that's been begging to be freed.

With an awkward cough, he replies, "I find myself uncomfortable in this environment. It's too dusty, let's go now-"

"You mean to say you're horny?" "(y/n!)" Artem suddenly clasps a hand over your mouth, his face burning red from your vulgar words. Naturally, the coat flails off what he's been trying to hide and there you see the obvious tent right in his slacks.

The feeling of his dick is still fresh inside your body. Your then pussy jumps and aches for her counterpart as you remove his hand and tell him what he wants to hear.

"Fuck me right here"

"No" He looks at you like you've grown a head or two. Shaking his head furiously as he dismisses the idea of fucking you at a crime scene.

"I've sent everyone away besides, isn't it more thrilling doing it here? Think of it as a one-time thing, it's too risky to do it any other time so...we'll take this chance right now." You whine, pulling on his hand to try to convince him as Artem contemplates whether to listen to his rationale or horny.

"Please?" You give the best puppy eyes you could make, hoping it'll remind him of the look you give him when begging to put it inside your mouth.

And it did.

Artem moans, trying his best to lower down the volume but the feeling of being swallowed whole by your pussy has him letting out the most gorgeous sounds you ever heard. "Nghhh, (y/n) fuck. I-I thought you'd just suck me off." He groans against your neck, pushing your back flat against the wall with each thrust.

He didn't dare to look down or else he'll combust too quickly. Well, he really had to finish early since it was a quickie but Artem just couldn't get enough of the feel of your pussy sucking him in. You're wet and it's so easy for him to glide inside your walls to which you let out little moans that get swallowed up by his kisses.

"Isn't this better?-ahh. Y-you feel so good, Mr. Wing." You tease him by moaning his title which spurs him on to pump faster, wiping the grin off your face as he repeatedly hits your special spot.

"W-wait Artem! I'm gonna-" You try to push him off in a panic, fearing that your mixtures will fall to the floor with no cloth to wipe in sight. "Gonna cum!" You whine, mouth opening in ecstasy as you spasm and release around his cock.

You look back at Artem and see he's flushed as hell, lip bit and bangs falling around his face. He's focused on the view of his cock entering your hole, looking like a man on a mission as he fucks you into the wall.

"Love, I'm gonna release inside you, I'm sorry." He apologizes even though he secretly loves the feeling of cumming inside your pussy.

But before you could reply, a knock resounds on the front door shooting both of your eyebrows up in shock. "Mr. Wing? Ms. (y/n)? Are you guys still there?" You look at Artem in a panic but he seems to not mind anymore, too pussy drunk to care about professionalism.

You realize they'll get suspicious if you don't reply so you try your best to stabilize your voice in an attempt to speak.

"Yes!" You breathe out as if you'd run a marathon. "We're still discussing-!" Artem thrusts particularly hard, making your mouth 'o' shaped as your voice stops.

"Fuck fuck fuck I'm cumming. You better take all of this, don't let a single drop or we'll get caught."

You do hope the cutoff of your voice didn't sound too suspicious as Artem fucks his cock back into you as quickly as he can before moaning without a care about the team right outside. You had to cover his mouth as you squint, feeling the onslaught of liquid inside you.

The softening length lightly thrusts again to push some of the cum back inside. You're overstimulated and embarrassed, post-nut clarity hitting you like a truck yet it didn't seem to settle into Artem yet.

"So so good..." He whispers, seemingly wanting to get a round two but you stop him with a reminder of where you are.

"Artem put me down. They're looking for us."

"Who?"

Your eyes widen, finding his lust-filled haze amusing and scary. "My team? We're still at a crime scene."

Artem then stills, realizing that he's still inside of you and that what he had done is very very unprofessional.

But, fuck professionalism if it meant seeing you walk funny because his cum is resting inside you.

#artem x reader #artem x reader smut #artem smut #tot x reader #tears of themis scenarios #tot x reader smut #tot smut #tears of themis smut #tears of themis imagines #artem wing #tears of themis x reader #tears of themis x you #tears of themis

[eluminium]

Skizz week day 2 lets GOO!!!!

I apologize for the lack of polish on these. I have seemingly caught a cold and am also in the middle of important schoolwork. But hey, it's better than nothing!

Anyway, this is kind of a sneak peek into an AU I've been working on. It doesn't have a name yet, but it sure exists! I hope I can post about it more when I have more things to work with!

Once again, thank you to @skizzlemanweek for todays prompt!

Prompt 2: Hybrid/AU

-

Impulse has lost his mind.

That's the only logical conclusion to this situation. To him sitting here on his dead best friend's bed while talking to said best friend who's apparently ascended to godhood? But he doesn't know what kind of God he is yet somehow? He also may have given Impulse some knowledge about the divine that Impulse is 75% sure he isn't supposed to know, even as his best god friend's semi-accidental oracle and/or priest. Probably. Maybe.

It's been a rough couple of hours, to say the least.

"Impulse! You're not listening to me!" A voice, Skizz's voice, echoes through his head. Impulses hands fly to his ears as he groans in pain. "Control your volume, dude! You're gonna blow out my ears!" He hisses.

"Oh...! Sorry...!" Skizz whisper-yells in response, although not without a mischievous giggle. Oh gods above, Impulse was gonna have to deal with SKIZZ. TALKING IN HIS BRAIN. UNINTERUPRABLY. FOR THE FORSEEABLE FUTURE. He shakes his head to try and get rid of that awful realization and quickly moves to change the subject before Skizz catches on.

"Alright, so. You became a God, but you don't know what of. So you appeared back here and found me. And you want me to help you figure out what you are the God of. Did I get that right?" He summarizes, looking at the faint blue outline of his best friend sitting on the same bed they spent years having pillow fights on in their youth-

Skizz sticks out his hand and does a so-and-so motion. "Well, yeah...But since I picked you as my oracle, as in my special important mortal representative guy, you're also gonna have to start my cult and get people to worship me!" He exclaims, clearly excited at the prospects. 

"Wow, we really got a Mr. Humble Guy over here," Impulse deadpans.

"HEY! You know I'm not in it for the fame, man! Even though I am really handsome and my godly muscles are huge!" Skizz huffs in mock offense. Impulse rolls his eyes in response.

But instead of another sarcastic quip, the barely visible parts of Skizz's face soften into something dangerously genuine. "I mean it, dude. Think about it. Think about how cool this is gonna be. Think about how deadly we are as a duo now that we have divine power behind us. Think about how many people we can help!"

"But we don't even know what you're the God of!" Impulse snaps with a glare. "How are we supposed to get people to join in on this when we can't gurantee anything?! And don't say 'We'll make something up', you KNOW I'm a TERRIBLE liar! I can't lead a whole freaking cult by myself! I need yo-"

His throat closes up. He can't say that. Because that would mean Skizz couldn't help him, that his best friend was...not with him in some way. That he was alone in this, for now. No, no it's too raw. He breaks eye contact as his eyes snap towards a corner of the room. He draws in a shaky breath and blinks rapidly. 

"Dipple Dop..." Skizz's tone is...sad. He reaches out towards Impulse before remembering that he can't really...touch him. Nor can he touch anything mortal, really. He needs belief for that, followers who believe in him. 

A sigh leaves him as he retracts his hand. "I know this is a lot for you. To be honest, it's a lot for me too. You're scared, and I'm scared. And you're probably thinking something like: 'This is a total disaster, we're so screwed'-"

Huh, that was...exactly what Impulse was thinking. To the word. Weird.

"-but man, dude, my homieh buddeah-"

Impulse can't help but snort at that one. The man is a god now, and yet he's still just Skizz.

"We got all the time in the world to do this. We don't have to rush this. We'll make a plan. We'll do our research! The big fancy library we used to study at had a bunch of books about the gods and stuff, remember? Maybe we can find the step-by-step guide to finding your godly trait and a "How to Cult for Dummies"! Gee, wouldn't that be convinient!"

They're both giggling now. Why? They don't fully know. Probably the absurdity of sneaking into a royal library to read the most suspicious books of all time is getting to them. But, somehow, there's a glow of warmth in Impulse's chest. A feeling he's been missing ever since Skizz unwillingly left the mortal realm for the divine.

Hope.

As the giggling dies down, a timid smile settles on Impulse's face. Gods, how does Skizz do it? How does he make Impulse believe in some new goal that fast? Well, he supposes he can blame it on magical god powers now. Hell yeah.

He takes a deep breath in, jumps off the bed, and stands up. "Alright, I'm in. What's the worst that could happen?" He says with attempted confidence. Despite Skizz certainly detecting his lingering anxiety, he jumps up (or well, floats) up in the air beside him with a barely seeable hand pumped up in the air.

"Allllright!!! Imp and Skizz are reunited and back on the case! I love it!" He cheers.

Impulse wastes no time in heading to their shared kitchen and grabbing a snack for the road. The library isn't far (perks of living in the capital) but hey, emotional rollercoasters tend to leave ya a bit tired. A snack for the road never hurt anybody!

Skizz unexpectedly chuckles. "Except that one time you decided to shove jello in your backpack," he points out.

Impulse freezes.

"...Are there more things in my head than just your voice?" He questions while slowly turning around to face Skizz. Skizz, in response, raises an eyebrow.

"Of course! I know everything going on in there! That's what happens between a God and their oracle!" He says like it's common knowledge.

"So you know all my deep dark secrets now?"

"Well, kinda!"

"Does the "kinda" include how much I missed you?"

"Awww yeah!!! I know you love me soooo muuuchhh now!"

"God damn it- I hate you. You SUCK." 

At Impulse's overly sulky tone, Skizz giggles like the sacred bastard he is. And once again, something cozy and soft glows and grows in Impulse's chest. It feels...good. Happy. Like it's right as it should be. And looking at the faded form of his best friend, he knows Skizz feels it growing too.

Maybe, even with all the responsibility and having Skizzleman but now with divine powers in his head 24/7, this won't be so bad. 

Maybe this could become something great.

#skizzleman #impulsesv #skizz week 2 #skizz week #my writing #Unnamed God Skizz Oracle Impulse AU #hermitfic #THE COLD MIGHT FUCK ME UP BUT THE GRIND NEVER ENDS PEOPLE #I WILL COMPLETE SKIZZ WEEK

[justanotherdinboshipper]

Analysis: Dinbo Parallels between “The Heiress” and “Guns For Hire” also featuring "The Sanctuary"

This analysis marks my initial contribution to the Dinbo fandom, as I simply couldn’t contain my brainrots any longer. Below, I’ve outlined the intriguing parallels I’ve observed between these two episodes, both directed by Bryce Dallas Howard.

(I hope you like reading cause this is a long one but I hope my fellow Dinbo shippers would enjoy this brainrot)

Frog Lady and the Couple from Plazir

In a captivating discussion by @noorhal on this youtube video focusing on Dinbo, parallels between Bo-Katan and the Frog Lady were explored. Both characters share a similarity: they are the last of their family lineages. Bo-Katan herself highlights this fact during her introduction to Din.

In Trask, significant meetings unfold for both the Frog Lady and Bo-Katan. Just as the Frog Lady encounters her husband, laying the foundation for her family’s continuation, Bo-Katan crosses paths with Din. It’s not just the Frog Lady who found her significant other on that fateful day at Trask.

Howard employs another couple in “Guns For Hire” to echo the dynamic between Din and Bo: The Duchess and Captain Bombardier. This married pair rules over a domed city akin to Mandalore, with the Duchess representing royalty while her husband does not share her status. Exactly like Din and Bo; she’s Mandalorian Royalty while he is a Foundling.

And what’s interesting is that, both of these couples-the Frog Lady and Her Husband and the Duchess and her Husband, both looked after Grogu as both Din and Bo went on a mission together. Coincidence? I think not.

The Quarren and Mon Calamari

Another compelling parallel between “The Heiress” and “Guns For Hire” lies in the presence of Quarren and Mon Calamari characters in both episodes. Interestingly, these characters also reflect the evolving dynamic between Din and Bo.

In “The Heiress,” these two species are depicted as siblings. When Bo comes to Din’s rescue aboard the ship and Din pleads for Grogu’s safety, Bo’s reassurance—“Don’t worry, brother, we’ve got this”—underscores their Mandalorian kinship. Their relationship is rooted in camaraderie and mutual respect, devoid of romantic undertones.

However, in “Guns For Hire,” the Quarren and Mon Calamari are portrayed differently; they are not siblings but lovers facing an impending separation. This shift suggests that their relationship has evolved since their initial appearance in “The Heiress.” From the Mandalorian brotherhood dynamic, their bond has transformed into a romantic connection, albeit one that will be constrained by external circumstances.

The Darksaber

The closing moments of the “Guns for Hire” episode resonate with a subtle yet significant exchange between Din and Bo-Katan involving the Darksaber. As Din offers her the legendary weapon, there’s a palpable tension in the air, underscored by the deliberate slowness of their movements. Bo’s slow acceptance of the Darksaber from Din’s outstretched hands, coupled with his nod of acknowledgment, speaks volumes about the unspoken understanding and chemistry between them.

It’s noteworthy how Din, despite his reluctance to possess the Darksaber, diligently safeguards it, like the shifter ball cherished by Grogu, hoping one day to return both of them to their respective owners. He understands the significance of the saber to Bo-Katan. When Paz attempted to claim the Darksaber, Din fiercely defended it.

In “The Heiress,” Din initially shows little interest in Bo-Katan’s quest to reclaim the Darksaber from Moff Gideon. Despite her plea for his assistance, Din remains focused on his own priorities. However, in the closing moments of “Guns for Hire,” Din returns the Darksaber to Bo, fulfilling her long-standing desire and Din playing a huge part in achieving it.

Banter and Eyes

In “The Heiress,” Bo-Katan’s gaze holds a certain intensity when she looks at Din, hinting at intrigue or perhaps even attraction. Despite Din’s affiliation with a sect that she despises, Bo persists in urging him to join their mission to reclaim Mandalore. Her unwavering desire for his involvement suggests a level of fondness or admiration, even before witnessing his combat prowess firsthand.

The banter between Din and Bo-Katan in “The Heiress” crackles with tension, particularly when Bo changes the terms of their agreement. Her mocking delivery of “This is the way” leaves Din momentarily speechless.

In “Guns for Hire,” Bo’s demeanor towards Din retains a hint of the attraction evident in “The Heiress,” albeit with a softer, more tender undertone. Their banter remains, but it’s devoid of the sly mockery present in their earlier encounter.

Regrettably, the episode doesn’t afford us a glimpse into Din’s point of view, leaving us to wonder about his feelings towards Bo. However, the subtle shifts in their dynamic—from playful banter to a more sincere exchanges—suggest a growing connection that transcends mere partnership.

Flashbacks to Being Saved as a Kid

In “The Heiress,” a visual parallel unfolds as Bo rescues Din, their hands interlocking in a gesture reminiscent of a pivotal moment from Din’s childhood. This evocative imagery reinforces the idea of Bo as a savior figure in Din’s life, echoing the past trauma he endured and the subsequent salvation he found in Mandalorian culture.

Similarly, in “Guns for Hire,” another callback to Din’s childhood trauma is subtly woven into the narrative. Bo’s method of dispatching the battle droid mirrors the manner in which a similar droid was neutralized during Din’s rescue as a child.

The scene where Bo assists Din, helping him to his feet, further reinforces their connection. As their hands interlock once more, the camera lingers on the gesture.

The Sanctuary

Now let’s weave the themes of these two episodes to another episode directed by Howard in Season 1-Episode 4, “The Sanctuary”

In that episode, we encounter Omera, a potential love interest for Din. Interestingly, parallels emerge between this episode and “The Heiress.” In both instances, Din is presented with an invitation to stay or join a community, but his responses reveal nuanced differences in his character development.

With Omera, Din’s refusal to stay is resolute, rooted in his belief that he doesn’t belong. However, the episode hints at his underlying desire for connection and love, albeit conflicted by his adherence to the Mandalorian Creed and the dangers of his chosen profession or way of living.

In contrast, Bo’s offer in “The Heiress” carries a different weight. While Din doesn’t immediately accept, his response isn’t a flat rejection either. He acknowledges his current obligations with the Child but leaves the door open for the possibility of joining Bo in her cause in the future. Bo’s willingness to wait for him underscores her respect for his choices and her understanding of his priorities.

This theme of commitment and prioritization continues in subsequent episodes in Season 3. In “The Mines of Mandalore,” Din reiterates his need to fulfill his obligations before going with Bo. “I cannot go with you until I fulfill my obligation.” I don’t think that’s just a reply to Bo’s offer to take him back to his ship in Kalevala. It’s hinting at something more.

By the time “Guns for Hire” rolls around, Din’s presence alongside Bo on their mission to find her fleet speaks volumes. Without explicit confirmation, it’s evident that he has accepted her offer, joining her in her plans to reclaim Mandalore.

The Evolution of Din Djarin’s Priorities and Commitments

Throughout “The Sanctuary,” “The Heiress,” and “Guns for Hire,” Bryce Dallas Howard skillfully illustrates a theme: the evolution of Din Djarin’s priorities and commitments. In Season 1’s “The Sanctuary,” Din’s paramount concern is ensuring the safety of the Child while remaining true to his creed and his job as a bounty hunter. Despite hints of his yearning for love and family, these desires remain secondary to his duties.

As the narrative progresses into “The Heiress” in Season 2, Din’s focus shifts towards reuniting the Child with its own kind, while maintaining his dedication to his creed and his newfound duty as the Child’s guardian. Though the bond between them deepens, Din remains hesitant to fully embrace the idea of the Child becoming his family.

However, “Guns for Hire” marks a significant turning point. Despite the absence of a clear transition scene between The Pirate and this episode, Din’s unwavering support for Bo-Katan’s mission to find her fleet speaks volumes about his evolving priorities. While he was not explicitly tasked with this mission, his decision to accompany Bo demonstrates that her cause has become his own, and his commitment to her is unwavering.

Whether Bo asked for his assistance or he offered it willingly, the underlying truth remains unchanged: Din’s loyalty lies with Bo, and her priorities have become his own. This subtle yet profound shift in allegiance underscores the depth of their bond and Din’s willingness to prioritize their shared goals above all else.

In “Guns for Hire,” subtle yet significant cues suggest a potential shift in Din Djarin’s openness to romance. Through his ongoing training of Grogu and his growing acceptance of the concept of family, Din demonstrates a newfound willingness to embrace deeper connections. The thematic elements of love are reinforced by the planet’s name, “Pleasure,” and the presence of two couples intertwined with the narrative. Additionally, the reminder from the droid that “life is short” displays the fleeting nature of time and the importance of seizing opportunities for connection and companionship. These subtle hints, woven seamlessly into the episode’s fabric, suggest that Din may now be more receptive to exploring romantic possibilities in his life. Beyond mere fan speculation, this narrative development reflects the skillful storytelling of Bryce Dallas Howard and the talented writers behind these three episodes, they are geniuses.

#dinbo #din djarin #din djarin x bo katan kryze #din x bo #the mandalorian #bo katan x din #din x bo katan #bodin #bokadin #this is the way #this ship is the way #Am I way too late for this analysis? #Howard is obviously a Dinbo shipper #mandalorians are stronger together

[bestworstcase]

Any Summer Maiden ideas?

Not their identity per se, but rather their role or thematic undertones you think they might have in future volume/s? And how they might contrast to the other Maidens?

Or even the Maidens as a whole, especially as we slowly inch closer and closer to having a 'full set'?

i stand by the gillian theory and my general thoughts on what the maidens are for, thematically. if she isn’t gill, i think she’s definitely starr (& as outlined in the gillian theory post, between gill’s semblance and the ATMs i think the summer maiden might get hot potatoed without character deaths—in the form of gill temporarily stealing the magic by draining the real maiden’s aura with her semblance, or if gill is the maiden, the ATMs being used to permanently transfer half her aura to jax and that causing the maiden power to part from her and go to someone else, probably starr).

there’s also the ‘lessons’ and the divine quality associated with each maiden:

winter + creation + “learn to center yourself and think reflectively to gain awareness of who you are and what you can contribute to the world”

the medical neglect fria is subjected to as an woman with dementia deprives her of this ability, until penny treats her with compassion and dignity, which affords her a moment of clarity and agency in whom she chooses to be her heir;

likewise, penny is subjected to extreme dehumanization even by the standards of the atlesian military and the central conceit of her character arc is her struggle to assert her personhood; becoming the maiden intensifies this struggle and, like fria, she’s unable to escape it in the end;

so the winter maiden passes to winter, who embodied the lesson all along: “emotions can grant you strength, but you must never let them overpower you” + “we must still acknowledge our feelings, wrestle with them. it insures us that we’re on the right path. it’s what makes us human.”

the winter maiden arc is about the act of self-creation—how do we make ourselves human? how do we define ourselves? what does it mean to be a person? to become real?

spring + knowledge + “hard work can be its own reward” and “try to nurture the life around you and remember to ‘stop and smell the roses.’”

the last spring maiden, we’re told, found the burden to great and ran away. raven says that she “never learned,” no matter how much training raven put her through.

vernal, the false maiden, is presented as someone with incredible dedication to her tribe who has trained hard with the magic she was given. (and this is not entirely false: vernal is devoted to the tribe, and she has clearly worked hard to hone her skill.)

raven, the real maiden, “needed to know more” and went looking for the truth on her own; she tells weiss and yang “so far you’ve done nothing but accept what others tell you, but you need to question everything” and that “the truth is hard to come by.”

the spring maiden arc is about the effort it takes to uncover the truth, but also the effort it takes to conceal it, and the connecting thread between all three ‘maidens’ (real or not) is this idea of training-as-duty; something both of the real maidens are said to have ‘abandoned’ whereas the false maiden did not.

crucially, this arc is not over and won’t be over until we know what really happened to the last spring maiden, but the set up is toward an interrogation and rejection of this ‘training-as-duty’ conceit: hard work is its own reward, but it’s important to stop and smell the roses; ie, training and dedication to a cause is its own reward, but only if the cause itself is worthy. the last spring maiden was a child given too great a burden, raven left because she found that she had been deceived.

fall + choice + “be thankful for what you have and show your gratitude.”

amber is traveling alone when she’s attacked, with qrow tailing her at too great a distance to intervene; it’s unclear whether she was part of the inner circle herself. after the power is divided, they keep her on life support inside the ATM in anticipation of finding a new vessel for the magic still attached to her soul. no apparent attempt to get her actual medical care.

pyrrha is asked to become their sacrificial vessel for amber’s soul, for the sake of keeping the remaining part of the magic from recombining with its other half in cinder. she’s torn between feeling like this is an obstacle preventing her from fulfilling her destiny and fear that this is how she must fulfill her destiny, at the cost of who she is.

cinder—who had nothing—sees the maidens like this: “you think that hoarding power means you’ll have it forever, but that just makes the rest of us hungrier! …and i refuse to starve.” she’s the only maiden in the story who actively wanted to become a maiden and her chief role in the spring and winter arcs has been forcing the other maidens out of the vault-keys paradigm, through opening the vault (spring) or interfering with a machine transfer (winter).

the fall maiden arc is about freeing the maidens so that they can choose themselves; ozpin and his inner circle objectify the maidens and seek to possess and control them. the maidens are disposable, replaceable as long as the other side doesn’t get them. cinder represents the inversion of the fairytale moral, as someone who was deprived and subjugated for her whole life; “be grateful for what you have” becomes the wrathful “it just makes the rest of us hungrier.”

this arc is not over either; what remains is for cinder to let go of her desire for the other maidens and find a way to fulfill what she actually wants, which is freedom and safety. but because the fall maiden arc is so intertwined with the others—cinder as the violent liberator wrenching the other maidens out of this system—her presence in vale with salem has implications for how the summer maiden arc might unfold.

so.

summer + destruction + “don’t view the world at a distance, take an active part in it.”

as i discussed here, i’m skeptical that the mystery girl in B1 is the summer maiden. but if she is, or if she’s a presumptive heir, the secrecy surrounding her and the fact that she isn’t publicly known or acting in the open like winter and raven are would suggest that the inner circle hasn’t shifted its thinking whatsoever on the maidens: winter and raven are free because their vaults are open and salem has their relics, but the summer maiden must be kept hidden to safeguard her vault.

on the other hand, if mystery girl is a spy (emerald), then the summer maiden’s absence could suggest either that she is in hiding or that she is someone outside of the inner circle’s control.

because cinder isn’t in vacuo, i think the latter option is more likely—which is one reason i think it’s probably gillian first and starr becoming the maiden during the vacuo arc. if the summer maiden is already someone outside of, and antagonistic to, the inner circle, then there is no narrative need for cinder to be involved in the summer maiden arc; the summer maiden is already free.

(this would also allow for an interesting inversion of the last two arcs and mirroring with the second beacon arc, in that if gillian is the summer maiden, the crown will be gunning for the sword of destruction, and the conflict is not “how do we keep the key out of salem’s hands” but “how can we prevent an enemy maiden from taking the relic.”)

similarly, if the maiden is starr, then the crown is likely to be gunning for her and between the twins’ semblances and tyrian they certainly have the means to do it if they find her.

the other thing to consider with regard to the summer maiden is the history vacuo has with the sword, and how that intersects with the summer maiden’s theme of taking an active part in the world: eighty years ago, ozma used that sword to end a war and enact dramatic world-wide changes, and then he sealed it away with the presumable intent that it would never be used again. this is antithetical to the thematic purpose of the summer maiden and of destruction conceptually; the summer maiden must act, and destruction is a force which drives constant change.

if the summer maiden is part of the inner circle and on board with keeping the sword locked away at the top of the vacuo arc, i think it’s very likely that she will die, and the power will go to a character who wants to open the vault and use it to protect vacuo. whether that is gillian or starr or both at different points in the narrative, it makes sense to me for the summer maiden to be someone who decides that the sword must be used, for better or worse.

if gillian is the summer maiden, i think her determination to use the sword for vacuo’s sake in combination with her love for her brother might end up being the common ground between the crown and the coalition: they agree to help her heal her brother via partial aura transfer, she agrees to relinquish the maiden power, and everyone comes together to mount a counteroffensive using the sword of destruction. or the summer maiden power might end up divided between multiple people, with gillian keeping half and the half attached to the aura transferred to jax seeking a new host.

generally, i think it’s more likely than not that the summer maiden will break the existing pattern of [vulnerable dead/dying maiden] -> [“false” or “illegitimate” maiden] -> [freed maiden] and in that case the expectation that the initial summer maiden will die might be subverted completely. there is also something compelling about the summer maiden choosing to ‘destroy’ her power by dividing it, in a mirror image of the fall maiden arc.

although that being said i don’t think the maiden cycle itself will be ended, just freed from the artificial system of control imposed by the vaults and the oz conspiracy.

[fallingdownhell]

Zhongli x fem reader's first time 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Now this will be interesting👀

Pairing: Zhongli x female reader

Content: female bodied reader; she/her pronouns for reader; virginity loss; first time; praise; penetration; use of nicknames; a little bit of overstimulation; multiple orgasms

Word count: 1,7k words

Have fun reading! I know I did while writing this..

Minors do NOT interact!

You threw your head back into the pillow as you felt another one of his fingers enter you, adding a bit more to your pain.

The intrusion felt foreign, it wasn't like anything you have ever felt before, making you feel uncomfortable.

A single tear escaped your eyes, rolling down your cheek. Not even a second after, you felt Zhongli's soft lips on your cheek, kissing the tear away.

"Are you alright, darling? Do you need me to stop?", he asked you, leaning closer to you, studying your face and reactions thoroughly. You managed to open your eyes, looking at him.

His eyes held so much love and adoration for you. You knew that if you were to ask him to stop this, he would do so, no questions asked, no matter how much he was yearning for release himself.

You could see through the outlines of his pants how hard he was, clearly turned on by this. Apart from his pants, he was naked as well, only keeping them on to not pressure you into doing anything you didn't want to do, as well as to not intimidate you with his size.

You took a few deep breaths in and out, before shaking your head.

"N-no.. I want to.. keep going.", you said with a shaky voice, the pain gradually ebbing off, turning into pleasure instead.

Zhongli didn't move again immediately. Instead, he took a few more moments to look at you, confirming that you actually meant it, before he began moving his two long fingers inside of you again, moving them in and out in a slow, steady pace.

You closed your eyes again at the feeling, squinting them as you threw an arm over your mouth, trying to stiffle the noises that threatened to escape you. It would have worked if it weren't for Zhongli suddenly attacking your sensitive neck with his own lips, kissing the skin there.

A soft moan slipped past your lips and you started to finally relax a little bit into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside your hole. Then, in the next second, you felt some pressure on your clit as well, as he moved his thumb over it, slowly circling it, adding more to your pleasure.

You sucked in a breath at the feeling, having never felt pleasure like this before in your life. Feeling Zhongli smile against the skin of your neck, he pulled back a bit to pull you into a deep, passionate kiss.

Relaxing even more into his loving touch, he increased the stimulation he was putting on your clit, making you moan into the kiss.

Breaking the kiss, you tried to catch your breath again, suddenly feeling a third finger prodding at your entrance.

"That's it, my love. Just relax for me, it's gonna be alright.", Zhongli whispered against your ear, kissing the shell of it before wandering down to your neck again, sucking a mark there.

You tried your best to listen to him, but you couldn't help clamping up a bit at the intrusion. Zhongli, obviously noticing this, began slowly circling one of your nipples with his free hand, playing with your breast, while going down and licking the other with his tongue.

Thanks to the added, pleasurable feeling, you ease up more, making it easier for him to move his fingers inside of you. Now, his slow, steady pace started to pick up more and more, as he was now also stroking your clit in earnest.

He let out a deep moan against your skin, feeling you clamp down on his fingers. He couldn't help but imagine how it would feel if it was his cock instead..

He started moving faster and faster as your moans increased in volume, determined to make you come at least once before he would think about his own pleasure, even though his dick was aching for attention by now.

"Z-Zhongli.. I..I'm-", you got cut off by yet another one of your moans. Moving your hips against him, helping him in moving his long fingers inside of you. He was hitting just right every time he thrusted into you again and again, and his thumb moving on your clit just made this so much better.

Your hands gripped his hair, holding his face pressed against your breasts, not that he minded though. He was already in heaven, seeing you like this, knowing that he was making you feel this good, only made his chest swell with pride even more.

"Yes. You're doing so good for me, darling. Do it, come for me." His words were muffled against your skin, but you were still able to understand him just fine.

As if his words were the last straw you didn't know you needed, you were suddenly overrun with immense pleasure as your whole body began to tremble and twitch in his hold. You were clamping down on his fingers as the pleasure just seemed to get more and more.

Zhongli moaned against your skin, a deep sound vibrating through your body as he felt you release on his fingers. He continued moving his hand, prolonging your orgasm, helping you get the most out of it.

Once he felt you relax against the mattress, breathing heavily, he carefully pulled his fingers out of your pussy and climbed up so that he was now towering over you. He looked down at you, your expression undescribable to him, tears running down your cheeks but he knew they were caused by the pleasure.

He admired you for a few more moments before leaning down and capturing your lips into a kiss again. You were still a bit out of it, but you soon came back to your senses.

He was moving on top of you, his still clothed erection pressing against you, making you let out another moan at the feeling, confirming to you how much he was enjoying this himself.

Your hands moved from his shoulders down to the waistband of his pants, slowly pulling it down along with his underwear, leaving him completely naked as well now.

He broke off the kiss, looking down at you, seeing how you were eyeing him. He couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips as he leaned down to give you a loving peck on your forehead.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll be careful. If ever you feel uncomfortable, don't hesitate to tell me, alright?"

You nodded, bracing yourself, knowing that it would most likely hurt. Zhongli noticed this, giving you a few other reassuring pecks on your face as he took a hold of his cock, giving it a few quick pumps, then lining himself up with your hole.

He looked into your eyes, making you look at him so that you would focus on him, then slowly started pushing into you.

You immediately squinted your eyes closed at the feeling. He was so much bigger than three of his fingers. It was uncomfortable and it hurt, but not enough that you wanted him to stop.

So, you took a deep breath, trying to force your body to relax and nodded, signaling for him to continue. However, he didn't move right away again. Instead, he reached down between your bodies, rubbing your clit, assisting you in making you relax again.

It helped, you started to loosen up more and he started to slide the rest of his cock inside you. Once he was finally all the way inside, you felt so full. You knew he was big, but you would have never thought that it would feel like this. Like your entire body was filled to the brim with just him..

A single tear escaped your eyes again, and Zhongli leanded down to capture it again, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Are you alright, my love?"

You nodded again, gradually getting used to the feeling of his cock inside your pussy, slowly getting turned into pleasure.

"Y-you can.. move.", you told him with a shaky voice, bracing yourself again.

He did as your requested, starting out slow and steady. He pulled out almost all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before thrusting in again in one quick, smooth motion.

Zhongli burried his face into the crook of your neck, panting loudly, but otherwise, no noises left him except for a groan here and there.

His thrusts gradually became faster at the feeling of your walls clamping down on him. It was even better than he had imagined before. You were obviously struggling with his size and somehow, that only excited him even more.

You hooked your legs behind him, your arms throwing themselves around his shoulders, holding him in this position. He wasn't able to move away from you anymore, not that he would ever want that in the first place.

He placed one hand into your hair, making you arch your neck so that he could mark you up there, while his other hand continued to rub circles into your clit.

Seeing as you were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, you were already close again.

"Ahh! Z-Zhongli! I'm- I'm close!", you tried telling him, hoping that he might slow down so you could enjoy this for a bit longer. However, he only increased the speed of his thrusts at this, rubbing your clit even harder than he had before.

"Mmm, me too, darling. I'm close too.", he spoke against your skin then continued to mark you up like it wasn't enough already.

You wanted to say something else, but in the next second, pleasure overtook you again as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. You cried out, moaning at the intensity of it all, your body trembling as the walls of your pussy clamped down on his cock over and over.

Zhongli let out a deep groan at the feeling, making a few more thrusts into your pussy before pulling out. He came all over your stomach, painting it in white.

You were both breathing heavily, exhausted. Zhongli fell down next to you on the mattress, pulling you close against his chest. He really wanted to get up and get a towel for you so he could clean you up.

But right now, he needed to feel close to you first, tell you how good you made him feel and how much he loved you, before he would take care of your every need. After all, he devoted himself to you, so he would take care of you, no matter what you needed of him...

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact x reader smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader smut

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

The first batch of pictures for Amoré's character journal are here! Also I have been so super sick that I've literally had nothing to do but to work on this for like almost 2 weeks so...

The cover to cover tour officially starts here. All I can say about the front & back is that I lament my lack of experience with my Cricut when I made these decals. I only had 2 "fun" colors to work with at the time & I was still getting comfortable drawing in Procreate, so my silhouette art leaves a lot to be desired compared to some stuff I've made recently. I also found it's incredibly easy to burn this leather book.

But she's volume one, everything with her is a learning experience, & I realized as much as it helps to have a mini heat press for tight corners & small spaces, the cloth barrier they suggest you use between the vinyl & the iron tends to make things harder to press on this scale. So instead I gotta quickly tap straight on the transfer film & hope I don't burn anything around it :(´◦ω◦｀):ﾟﾟ

So at the risk of thoroughly exposing my inner theater kid, Amoré set the precedent with how I went forward creating campaign characters. I started off collecting 5 songs to make a mini story arc (almost like a show choir set list 🙃) that helps me figure out an outline for the kind of story I wanna give them.

Somehow Amoré ended up with a truly horrendous blend of rock & theatre. Absolutely incredibe. No wonder she's always such a dramatic bitch.

It was a lot easier to go in & add little decals around these lyrics. I'm definitely cursed with the Too Much™ gene, but I enjoy the little pops of color they give ✨ plus it justifies me hoarding all these vinyl scraps printing stuff this small lol.

Stat sheet!

In all honesty, as my first character I had no fucking clue what I was doing when I placed these & if I could go back & change one thing I'd probably swap her Intelligence & her Wisdom. She’s definitely more people smart than book smart.

But everything else is...very accurate. She has all the upper body strength of a chicken nugget. Plus on top of the (already) negative I traded disadvantage on everything DEX for magic crystal shoes that can be periodically harvested. Just a way for her to carry around the family fortune without actually having to return to the vault✨

For something that started so average, her CON became a monster & always comes in clutch for her alcohol tolerance. I've played variations of her across a few different one shots & I always manage to roll well for anything alcohol related. The dice do respect a bit 🤣

Spells on the other hand, I floundered with a lot at first because we’re not a combat heavy game, but then I found Chaos Bolt & that was that. It’s essentially Amoré in spell form & I’ve had a ton of fun with it over the years. Also Mage Armor cuz my girl is SO DISTRESSINGLY SQUISHY.

Cantrips were more or less a bit of a toss up. Message was fun for the sheer idea of her using it to talk shit during social events without being caught. But aside from Light serving fun backstory purposes the other 3 are kinda just what looked fun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ unless you count the idea that she would absolutely delight in zapping handshakes.

From there, I wanted to extend the world map made by our wonderful DM @cappierong into a full scroll. Ya know, for the aesthetic ✨

Our campaign started in Civania, where Amoré's main Estate is. I just wanted a quick mock up to reference, so I edited a preexisting picture I found that checked all the boxes (large, on a plateau, accessible only by bridge) and then absolutely smothered it in flowers.

But anyways... This is primarily where Diana & Amoré grew up together in their decade of backstory ✨

There was probably waaaay to much back & forth trying to keep the continuity between stuff I've already drawn & this big reference. But I think it turned out pretty ok? Not like if I make a mistake anyone will really know lol.

Scaling was also another big issue I had, & I moments where I thought something was too big I just kinda handwaved it away like "ehhhhh she's from a stupid rich family." But now I have a NEED to draw baby Diana & Amoré around like, the statue gardens or something cuz I feel like certain parts of this place are definitely ominous 👀 especially for children...

And lastly we have the back cover & the High Noble political relationship map! I normally have this closer to the front but for layout purposes it'll be here. I kinda feel like I need to do more for the decoration of it but I can’t think of anything else to add at the moment.

Sam if u read that no you didn't.

But now! Other than a family portrait that I've always wanted to draw, I think I'm ready to move onto the art for Season 1 : Arc 2. It's a pretty hefty amount of art in comparison to others, so I gotta get busy. Especially since I think I'm gonna have to draw a few comics *sobs*

If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! I'm always excited to talk out our little idiots so thanks for indulging me ❀(*´▽`*)❀

#duo rong #dungeons and dragons #dnd character scrapbook #duo chronicles #amore bellridge #diana blackthorn if you squint #dnd #dnd character #dnd pc #dnd oc #character creation #character study(?) #dnd backstory #season 1 #dnd art #dnd campaign #campaign art

[herotome]

Devlog #114

Hi-ho Wudge here.

There's....... so much. So much so much. I'll try to sum up in bullet points.

As you may know from last week - I finally finished my flirt indicator tutorial screens. I've included a screen featuring Dart's finished face - quite handsome I think!

I drew my own quick stand-in backgrounds for the game... You can see one behind Jade up there. I kind of hate them!! But it's the best I can do for now, and I have to remind myself that I can always replace them later when I have the funds.

I added a 'click to begin' function on the title screen.

I finally put in art from the lovely @brightoakgame ! Look at all that detail!!

I coded in a score board at the end of the demo, so you can see how well you got along with the characters (and how drastically you can fail...)

I also did some concept designs for an upcoming character (as I do)... Put allllll the flirt indicators into the game, one by one... Here's a few samples:

... And I started properly writing and formatting my credits...

Made subtitle text in-code with double outlines (white + fake drop shadow) so I can change the text to aaaanything I want without opening an art program, as part of my title screen update...

Put in a bonus feature at the end with Katie...

Did aaaaaa lotttt of small writing edits, and heavily playtested Griffin's CG scene additions to make sure the new code was linked correctly...

Added expressions to Griffin's new lines, as well-- like this one

Did some troubleshooting bc my music wasn't looping correctly (I figured it out but it took an hour and a half of listening and testing the song over and over and I may have lost a fraction of my sanity from the experience)..

Also fixed my CTC icon because it wasnt showing up for certain characters.. Fixed Jade's superpower animation across the board..

Then I worked on finalizing the sound design (which includes manually adjusting the volume of certain sounds and adding in new ones) and putting in {w} tags for the whoooooooleeee game. While I was doing that, I came up with a new dialogue option (as I do):

......... I think that about covers it for now.............

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

#herotome update #interactive fiction #oelvn #visual novel #otome game #otome #english otome

[9leaguesofmirrors]

Ross Hates This (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

It feels like it's been a while since I posted here, that won't do!

Also, there are three references to Buffy scenes in this. I haven't watched the show, but Spike is both really cool and very Lisgoe-coded

CONTENT WARNINGS: Making out and Gainsgoe get thrown about (it's OK they like it)

Ross hates Lisgoe more than almost anything else (except maybe Pauline). That isn’t surprising, anyone that’s seen the two of them can tell that they aren’t the kind of people that become friends

And Ross hates him

He hates his foul mouth. It’s a mystery, honestly, how that man can’t go two sentences without dropping profanity. Does he really have no other way to express himself? A way that’s less aggressive and more sensible. Clearly not, much to Ross’ chagrin

He hates his clothes. Mostly black, leather, denim, sometimes band shirts. His work uniform is similar, but he throws a blazer on to look “professional”. Ross tells himself he’s too old to dress like a wannabe rockstar. They aren’t necessarily skin-tight, but they cling. Wrapping around his body and left every angle, every juncture, well-outlined. Especially when Lisgoe puts one, or both, hands on his hips, pushing his jacket out of the way to expose more of his lean frame

He hates that he smokes. While he doesn’t have an addiction, Ross has watched Lisgoe smoke whenever he’s been in the mood to do so. And, despite having done it the odd few times himself in moments of extreme stress, he thinks it’s nasty. At least Lisgoe has the decency to roll his own cigarettes when he comes over. Nimble fingers spreading tobacco along a thin strip, knuckles shifting as he rolls and his tongue teasing up the side to seal it. Cigarette between his fingers, lips around the end, it’s as if he owns the place. He tilts his head back and sighs gently through slightly parted lips, puffing toxic smoke into the air

His throat is slender

Ross also hates that Lisgoe just asks him to come over out of the blue

Yet he never wants to say no, and he never does. In fact, their time together has steadily started to become more frequent. Again, he never says anything when he receives  an invite. Nor does he turn Lisgoe away when he shows up at his door

Not even when he bangs on the door and, without even saying hello, goes “did you take my lighter?”

“Why would I take your lighter?”

“Because I gave it to you and you never gave it back.”

“And why would you give it to me?”

“Ross, I’m not a fucking convict. I don’t need questioning, just give me back my lighter.”

“I don’t have it!”

Lisgoe barges his way in and starts turning the house inside out for this damn lighter

One that he isn’t going to find at this rate

The lighter that, for reasons he doesn’t care to admit to himself, is currently in Ross’ back pocket

“Tearing my house to pieces won’t get your little zippo back.”

“That little zippo’s going right up your arse if you don’t help me look.”

“For someone that isn’t addicted to smoking, you’re quite attached to that thing.”

“It’s fucking engraved! Cost me 25 quid, I want it back and I know you have it!”

Leaning against the doorway of the living room, Ross folds his arms and watches as Lisgoe starts throwing pillows off the sofa

He’s got such a temper on him... Ross can’t help but chuckle

That’s when Lisgoe’s focus snaps onto him

Damn that man and his hearing

“Is something funny?”

No response

Lisgoe grits his teeth and strides over, standing directly in front of him. His  volume lowers and his voice comes out breathy and sharp

“Where’s my fucking lighter, Ross?”

Ross hates the way his eyes stab through his chest, wringing his insides and pinning him in place

“I don’t have your lighter.”

They don’t stop staring at each other. It’s like Lisgoe is forcing himself into his mind, dragging out every thought

Ross hopes he isn’t, for many reasons

When he tries to walk away, he finds his waist being grabbed tightly, with the palm of Lisgoe’s other hand pressing into the space above his head. Even though there’s only around two inches between them, Lisgoe manages to look down at him

Again. Stillness

Ross has no idea what Lisgoe’s thinking. No idea what he might do. The swirling in his stomach that gives him is one he could really do without

The hand on his hip rips itself away and, before Ross can ask what’s happening, it plunges into his back pocket, groping and rummaging through it

He hates that it makes him gasp softly

He also despises seeing Lisgoe raise his eyebrows, holding up the lighter

“Why would I take your lighter, Joseph?” He mocked “I don’t have it!” He stuffs it back into his own pocket “What the fuck did that achieve then? Wanted to make me look like a twat?”

Ross just looks at him with a steely expression, refusing to let him feel as though he was getting to him

In the silence, Lisgoe’s eyes drag up and down him, then he smiles. As if he has him all worked out

Ross tries to focus on the knot in his stomach, which does more harm than good

“Back pocket.” Lisgoe’s head tilted to the side, speaking in a demeaning tone “Bit slutty, if you ask me.” He put his lighter into his own pocket, then stuck his hand in Ross’, letting his palm rest there “Could’ve gotten a handful-“

“Are you leaving?”

“-unless that’s what you wanted.”

“I said ‘are you leaving’.”

“I will. At some point.”

Ross rodd his eyes with a frustrated tut. His head is muttering about the arrogance of this man when he feels his hips being moved forward, then slammed aggressively into the wall. The groan of pain that followed is cut short by a grab to his chin

“Don’t tut at me.”

Not sure of what else to do in retaliation, Ross just shoves Lisgoe against the other side of the doorway. He instantly finds himself being pushed off, then dragged by the arm and flung against the pillow thrown onto the floor prior

By now, Ross has scrambled onto his back and adjusted his glasses, his eyes dragging up the legs either side of his hips until they meet the smug face of Joseph Lisgoe

If he could speak, he’d tell him... that’s the thing, he knows that he wouldn’t even tell him to leave

Feeling the other man straddle his waist, Ross tried to grab for his hands as they came towards him. They stayed there, scuffling, for a few seconds until Lisgoe managed to grab onto his wrists and slam them into the ground

“Admit it, Ross.”

Again, Ross says nothing. He just stares

“Admit,” Lisgoe lips quirk into a cocky smirk “that you took my £25 lighter and hid it in your back pocket just so I’d touch you.”

“Didn’t expect you to grab for it. Didn’t even expect you to find it.”

That arrogant look doesn’t falter for a moment

“So you just wanted an excuse to see me again.”

“Don’t make me out to be some obsessed teenage girl.”

“Would you rather I treated you like a cheap slut?”

Why now? Why are my insides knotting now?

“You’re a pain in the backside, Joseph, you know that, right?”

“I could be.”

Ross rolls his eyes again, resulting in his chin being grabbed again, then Lisgoe’s hand moving down to hold his throat

He knows he has to hate something about this, but his head is fuzzing and his body’s getting warmer and warmer. So, needless to say, he isn’t thinking as rationally as he’d have liked

“We always end up like this, don’t we?” Lisgoe’s voice becomes enticingly soft “Endless loop, really. You can say you hate me all you want, but we both know where that goes.”

Ross wants to deny it, but he can feel heat tearing through his body and seeding his mind with impure thoughts

“I never said I hated you. I just can’t stand you sometimes. Like now, for example.”

“I know. You can’t stand my swearing, can’t stand my clothes, can’t stand my voice,” he leans down until his lips brush against Ross “can’t stand how good it feels when I touch you, can’t stand when I kiss you so hard you can’t speak afterwards.”

It’s clear as day, what he wants, but Ross would hate to give it to him so quickly. Using his leg to propel himself, he manages to switch their positions and stand up

They stare at each other

Ross heads for the kitchenette, back to Lisgoe as he makes his way at a leisurely pace

Suddenly, he feels the back of his neck being grabbed and his whole body being flung against the surface of it. As he turns around and sits on the counter, Lisgoe’s hand shoves at his chest, pinning him down

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that, right?”

“Out of the blue, don’t you think? ‘Specially after throwing me about like a ragdoll.”

“You’re my favourite toy, what can I say?”

Ross feels a hand hook under his knee and pull his leg up into a bend before travelling to grab his thigh. He wishes his breathy whimper hadn’t given him away so much

“You know, you’re not as tough as you think you are.”

Lisgoe’s eyes narrowed and his head twitched slightly

“S’cuse me?”

“You come in, stomping about like you’re somebody, when we both know you’re not always in control.” He sits up, eyes flicking to Lisgoe’s lips as their breathing intertwines “Could pop you like a champagne bottle, drain you, then watch you shatter.”

Ross watches the way Lisgoe closes his eyes, his jaw tightening as he exhales. When their eyes met again, he runs his tongue along his teeth, pressing his body closer

“And I could snap every bone in your body like twigs and you’d beg me to hurt you just that little bit more.”

Not that he wants to be the one to give in, but the fizzing sensation becomes unbearable and he grabs Lisgoe’s shirt and wrenches him towards him

Their bodies rock together as Ross tries not to let himself get lost in the kiss, something he always finds himself doing

Don’t get distracted by his voice

Don’t get distracted by his lips

Don’t get distracted by his dry wit

His intense eyes

His nimble hands

His strong shoulders

A hand threads through Ross’ hair and another grabs his hip, controlling his movements as the kiss deepens

“Mph... mhm... ... mm-mhm...”

It drives Ross mad, truly insane, the way Lisgoe sounds. His tone is direct, his accent so inexplicably satisfying, but it’s these moments, where it becomes breathy and soft, where his realise how monumentally screwed he was

“Joseph,” his voice was barely above a whisper “this- a-ah... this can’t keep happening.”

“Hm, d’ya wanna stop then?”

Ross answers a little too quickly, but he doesn't care. By now, pretense was pointless

“I’d hate to be kept waiting.”

#ross gaines #joseph lisgoe #gainsgoe #gainesgoe #league of gentlemen #the league of gentlemen

[epickiya722]

[NOTE: This is long! This is an actual ask about Mineta and among other things that I thought maybe some of you may be interested in reading, but because the font is in orange (due to Tumblr glitching out on Anon and their autism) I'm posting it like this. I'm not too bothered by the color, but I'm sure there are others who may find it unreadable. Now, you do not have to read it. And if you do read it, you may comment or just send me an ask ONLY if you're polite. Don't attack anyone over this. No matter how you may feel about Mineta, BNHA, Horikoshi, a dog, a cat, ANYTHING or ANYONE... DO NOT BE DISRESPECTFUL. Please keep any of your comments that you know are rude to yourself. And now, you may proceed if you choose to.]

Horikoshi said once in some interview that mineta is essentially a self-insert. Coincidentally, early-mha horikoshi had some pretty pervy tendencies (much like mineta—probably why he thought it would be cool to have such a character never really face consequences). The most famous example of this is probably the girls hero costumes, most notably Yaoyorozu. He mentions in an aside very early on in the story (volume three or something?) that he can’t seem to help himself and her boob window always gets bigger every time he draws it. Then there’s uraraka saying she didn’t want such a tight costume, Hagakure being naked, etc. When the anime started airing there was another interview where he said he really appreciated them making uraraka curvier than in the manga, because he likes curvy women. One could also use midnight and mount lady as examples of this but I’d say it’s more of a way of discussing mature themes surrounding hero society and all of its consequences rather than actual sexualisation. Something that sets him apart, even at this early stage, from other shonen mangakas is that he doesn’t only do this to the women, but the men as well. If Yaoyorozus hero costume is revealing, what about kirishimas (this comparison is my favourite because they both need skin showing for their quirks to function well, so why is one considered bad and the other fine? Because one is a boy and one is a girl? Please keep in mind I am not trying to say that kirishima is sexualized. It’s just food for thought)? If urarakas suit is considered too tight, then look at all might. You could probably see the outline of his dick from fifteen yards away when he wears that costume. Then there’s mineta, who makes certain comments regarding the women in his class. But what about mount lady and how she treats shoto? Or one of the wild wild pussy cats asking the boys in class 1-A how old they are to see how long til she can marry them? Unlike basically every other shonen out there, the sexualisation (at least as far as I can tell) is not based in sexism. It’s across the board, and we only notice it more when it happens to women because we are used to it happening to women.

For a long time, I hated horikoshi for the same reasons I hated mineta (it was a love-hate relationship for obvious reasons). He was openly perverted and seemingly one of *those* guys. You know, the ones I’d be afraid to walk near after dark. Or before dark. But I still loved mha and really appreciated what he was doing within the story. As a side note, he writes the women very well, which is rare in shonen (again—love hate relationship with dear old horikoshi). But if you’ll notice, the farther along in the story you look, the less sexualisation there is. It’s gradual so you hardly notice, but compare volume four or five to volume thirty. The difference is stark. It’s not really that mineta has less lines (although since the war started that has been the case) he still talks, just differently.

I think what happened is, when mha started getting popular, horikoshi started seeing huge pushback to minetas character, which probably all came to a head when the anime made him say something super fucked up to eri. I don’t recall if it was in dub or sub or both, but reading back through the manga it’s a bit different and honestly could’ve been poor translation or my own misinterpretation. But in the anime it was clear what he meant. He can’t wait for eri to be older, for exactly the reason you’re thinking now. The process of horikoshi realizing his mistakes started long before this, though, and gradually you can watch him patch up the holes if you pay attention. The anime does a poor job of this, at least until season six. But around the time that season four ends (and this is present in the manga too) there is a scene of Mina tying mineta to a chair and forcing him to watch something. After that, the sexualisation in the manga is gone for good. I’d like to interpret this as horikoshi finalizing his realization and own personal character development. He is no longer pervy, just like mineta is no longer pervy.

The one exception to this rule is that infamous chapter cover. The one with Hagakure on the front? Yeah, when I saw that, it made me rethink all of this. For about two weeks I was convinced that I’d been wrong about it, and he really is just a pervert after all. But lo and behold, he said in an interview that he was running behind and didn’t have time to draw or pick a chapter cover. He handed a bunch of old concept art to one of the higher ups and told them to pick something. He said he was never expecting that drawing to see the light of day, and he figured they’d choose something a little more suited to the story. (A little fucked up that he drew that? Yes, I think so. But keep in mind, these are *old* drawings. People are allowed to change and, following this metric, I think horikoshi has changed quite a bit.)

All of this is to say, mineta is not really a bad person anymore, and also has incredible writing (whether it was purposeful from the beginning or a last minute change) which just goes to show how talented horikoshi really is.

#I'm working on 45 minutes of sleep today like at this moment #not kiya's thoughts #kiya answers #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mineta minoru #minoru mineta #horikoshi kohei

[kuzann]

The Wayward Heart

Written as my gift for @vixianna for the @valentines-core-exchange!

Summary

A ghost has stolen Vlad's heart, and now there's only one thing he can do to get it back: pretend to date Jack Fenton. Will he be able to work past his feelings, or will the entire matter end in disaster?

You can also read it on Ao3!

I think I got a bit too ambitious with trying to fit this entire story into only 20k words. ^^; But I still had an absolute blast writing it and I hope everyone(especially Vix) enjoys reading it! 💜 I'll be posting outlines and notes for it later today. Also, here's a link to the development of this fic for anyone who's interested in having a look!

Acquiring Help

Vlad paused before the front steps of FentonWorks and tried to get himself in order; he’d flown over so fast that he’d collided with a few trees on the way, and the disheveled result carried over to his regular attire. He plucked a particularly clingy twig from his hair and smoothed down a few silver locks that had come loose from his ponytail. The pronounced shadows under his eyes were something he could do nothing for at the moment—they were a consequence of the power drain he’d been hit with earlier, and a visible reminder that his ghost form held very little strength now.

The day had gone downhill so fast and it wasn’t even noon yet. If only he’d never heard of that wretched artifact to begin with. Then he wouldn’t have to beg Jack Fenton of all people for help and hope that Maddie was willing to play along.

Vlad took a deep breath, let it out, and steeled himself. Best to get this whole humiliating affair over with as soon as possible.

There was a distinct... Lack in his chest despite the nervous pulse thrumming in his fingertips. Another reminder of what was on the line here.

The door opened mere moments after he rang the doorbell and he was greeted by Jack Fenton’s wide smile and typical lack of volume control.

“Vladdie! Good to see ya!” Jack said as he stepped aside and gestured for Vlad to enter. “How’ve you been? Wanna play chess?”

“Perhaps another time, Jack,” Vlad said as he strolled past Jack and into the living room. The rest of the Fenton family was there, each watching him with either annoyance or suspicion or a mix of both. So circumstance had decided to hand him an audience. Just great. As if having to ask Jack for help to begin with wasn’t humiliating enough already. “I’m actually here because I need your help with something,” Vlad continued as he turned to Jack. “I’ve run afoul of a particular ghost—”

“And you need me to hunt it down? Say no more, pal!” Jack already had a gun in hand and was about to rush out the door when Vlad hung onto his harm to stop him.

“Not necessarily!” Vlad said quickly; if he couldn’t get ahead of Jack’s triggerhappy tendencies then they’d be in real trouble. “I require help of a more... Delicate variety. We have to play along with the ghost’s game this time.”

“And why would that be?” Maddie asked as she joined them. “Why should we cater to any ghost’s unreasonable whims?”

Vlad sighed. “Because that ghost has collateral right now. Very important collateral.” He was going to have to say it eventually, a statement as simultaneously ridiculous and as it was horrifying. He’d been trying to avoid it.

“And what ‘collateral’ might that be?” Maddie asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“My heart,” Vlad said, flushing a bit with embarrassment. “Not in the metaphorical sense!” he added quickly, upon seeing their disbelief.

“Hold on—” Maddie grabbed his wrist and held her fingers against the underside for a few moments. “But you still have a pulse,” she said, one fist braced against her hip as she dropped his arm. “How do you know the ghost wasn’t trying to trick you?”

“Well, that would be far better than the alternative,” Vlad admitted, feeling a tiny bit of hope and no small amount of embarrassment. In truth he’d been so freaked out by the reveal that he hadn’t thought to ask someone else to check. Still, best to be sure. “But shouldn’t you also listen for it, all the same?”

Jack swung Vlad to face him and put an ear to his chest, even as Vlad fought down the rush of annoyance at having his personal space invaded so suddenly. He was a little paler than usual when he straightened. “Uh, you usually need a stethoscope to hear it, right?”

“You’d need one to hear it better but you should be able to hear it as long as you’re close enough.” Maddie was beginning to look a little worried as well, not a good sign. She also brought an ear to Vlad’s chest—something that would’ve made his heart race in better circumstances—and came away with an even deeper frown. “I’ll go get the stethoscope.” She took the steps two at a time as she sprinted upstairs, but Vlad’s smidge of hope was already dashed.

“Don’t worry, V-man. We’ll figure this out!” Jack pulled Vlad into a tight side-hug that he must’ve thought would be reassuring. Instead it added a distinct thread of anger to Vlad’s present anxiety.

Vlad glanced at Danny and Jazz and found the two watching him with keen interest in the latter’s case and smug amusement in the former’s. He was about to give Danny a glare when Maddie returned with the stethoscope in hand.

Maddie put the stethoscope in her ears and brought it to Vlad’s chest. She went a few shades paler after a few moments. “How can he still be alive like this?” 

“Isn’t it possible that Vlad just never had a heart to begin with?” Danny asked, his smirk still firmly in place.

Vlad gave him a look. That was a low blow given the circumstances, even with the relationship between them as bad as it was.

“Danny!” Jack said, looking at his son in shock. “How could you say something like that?!”

“Now’s not the time for distasteful jokes, Danny,” Maddie added. “I know what you’re getting at, but there was a time when Vlad was a kinder person than he is now.”

Vlad looked at her in shock—that comment felt like she’d actually slapped him. “Maddie—”

“Don’t interrupt,” Maddie said, holding a hand up for silence. “I’m thinking.” She brought a hand to her chin as she considered the current predicament more. “We should run some tests—”

“There’s no time for that!” Vlad said, holding his hands up in a silent request that they give him a little distance. The last thing he needed was them running tests that could reveal his secrets, especially without the cover of chronic ecto-acne to explain his more ghostly qualities. “I can’t keep the ghost waiting forever!”

“Then what game is my dad supposed to play with this ghost, Uncle Vlad?” Danny asked, with as much disdain placed on the name as he could muster.

Vlad ran a hand down his face and sighed. They’d arrived at the worst part of the whole affair. “We have to pretend to be a couple,” he said after some hesitation, feeling absolutely wretched as the words left his mouth.

Momentary silence followed the statement, and then Danny began laughing so hard that he fell off the couch.

Maddie tried to hold back her laugh, and failed.

“Well that shouldn’t be hard!” Jack declared, grinning as he pulled Vlad into another side-hug. “Vladdie and I were basically a couple back in college!”

“Don’t talk about that!” Vlad snapped as he pulled away from Jack.

Danny’s laughter came to an abrupt end. “Oh, gross!” he said, wrinkling his nose as if he’d just smelled something foul.

“Now Danny, just because those moronic churchgoers are so loud—” Maddie began.

“It’s not about two dudes being together,” Danny said. “It’s about one of the dudes in question being Vlad.”

“Anyway,” Maddie said, sweeping the conversation past its temporary tangent as she turned to Vlad again. “You still haven’t told us much about this ghost. What sort of powers are we talking about?”

“This ghost is called Mitzi the Matchmaker. As indicated by her title she’s all about matchmaking and helping ghosts form stable couples.”

“Ghost couples... So why’s she after you, then?” Jack asked with sincere confusion.

“Well, she had a particular artifact that I feared she might misuse, so I attempted to retrieve it,” Vlad began, the lie running smoothly enough; he’d gone over it on the way over, after all. The embarrassment necessary for selling that lie, however, was genuine. He wouldn’t hear the end of this one for a while. “And unfortunately it ended up activating on me instead.”

Danny let out a single snort of amusement at that. Jazz, meanwhile, was watching him the way a microbiologist watched a particularly interesting microbe on their slide. She even had a notebook open on her lap.

“So if we can convince her that you two make a good couple she’ll give your heart back and leave?” Maddie asked, giving him an incredulous look.

“That’s what she told me,” Vlad replied. “First I have to bring Jack back to her so she can do some sort of test. She’s at my mansion now.”

“And may I come along?” Maddie asked.

“Of course, I was hoping you would want to,” Vlad said quickly. In truth he’d been a tad hopeful that Mitzi could perform her compatibility test on him and Maddie as well; hopefully the result would be an even better match than whatever match he and Jack made.

“And if you try to use this to threaten my marriage, Vlad...” Maddie began, fixing Vlad with a glare.

Jack gasped. “Maddie! Vladdie would never do something like that!”

“I won’t!” Vlad said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I just want my heart back, and to avoid that ghost she was trying to pair me off with instead!”

“Wait, other ghost?” Danny cut in. “What other ghost?”

Vlad let out a grumbling sigh. “She said that if I couldn’t find a good match myself then she’d force me to marry a ghost instead. He calls himself the Future Ghost King or some nonsense.”

Danny looked surprised. “Since when was there a Future Ghost King?”

“He picked the title himself, he’s some sort of wannabe tyrant from what I’ve heard,” Vlad replied with a wave of his hand. “And naturally he gets a large portion of my assets if I’m forced to marry him.”

Any lingering humor at Vlad's expense evaporated.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Danny said.

“The last thing we need is a maniacal ghost with Vlad’s resources,” Maddie added.

“No scummy ghost is laying a finger on my buddy!” Jack declared. “Let’s get over there and prove what a great couple we are, Vlad!” He grabbed Vlad by the hand and dashed out the front door, dragging Vlad along behind him like a hapless kite.

~~~

Vlad led the way to his library once they arrived, and there they found Mitzi the Matchmaker waiting for them.

She looked like your busybody aunt. Well, your busybody aunt who happened to be dead and had a taste for Edwardian fashion. Bright teal eyes blazed beneath the brim of her merry widow hat, the perfect contrast to her dusty rose attire and gray skin. She sat in the air as if perched on a bar stool, her floor-length gown trailing into a ghostly tail where it would’ve otherwise shown her boots, and looking perfectly at ease in Vlad’s library. The fur shawl draped over Mitzi’s shoulders shifted and raised its head, revealing itself to in fact be some manner of ermine ghost.

“Well you took your sweet time,” Mitzi said. Her voice was deep and somewhat husky, the sort that was uniquely suited to certain varieties of jazz accompaniment. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d decided to run off.”

“I was simply explaining the situation to everyone,” Vlad replied. He spotted the wretched artifact at her hip, a glass globe surrounded by a framework of interlocking metal rings similar to an armillary sphere. The beating heart inside the central globe was clearly visible even at this distance. “I’d like to introduce Jack Fenton and family,” he added, gesturing toward Jack with one hand.

“Hmm.” Mitzi drifted a tad closer as she sized him up, and Jack’s brows came down in a glare when he saw what was inside the artifact—Vlad had to put a hand on his shoulder to remind him to behave. “He will suffice, if the test proves your compatibility.” She drifted over to the nearest table and gestured for them to follow, her pet slipping from her shoulders and pulling chairs over for them to use.

They sat down across from Mitzi with Jack in the middle. Vlad noticed his pulse starting to pick up, and his eyes were drawn to the artifact at Mitzi’s belt; his heart was beating faster in time, making him a little sick as he watched.

The ghost nodded with satisfaction and shook her gown free of the ghostly tail, then summoned a wide shallow bowl of pale ceramic with a wave of her hand. Her pet passed a small bag to her, and she drew two black oblong stones from within. The stones had a silver sheen to them in the light, and she passed one each to Vlad and Jack. “Hold it in your hand for a few moments, and it will be attuned enough for the test.”

Vlad closed his fingers around the stone; it was heavy for its size and slightly warm, and its appearance reminded him of those magnetic hematite toys now that he’d gotten a chance to see it up close.

Mitzi gestured for the two to give the stones back, and she positioned each over an opposite side of the bowl once she had them in hand once again. “Now we will see.” She released them into the bowl. They skittered down the sides toward the center, repelling and dancing around each other twice before snapping together with a sharp click. “A good result,” Mitzi said with a smile.

Jack grinned. “Check me and Maddie next,” he said, probably seeing the little display as something akin to a game. Vlad couldn’t help but feel his hatred flare at the sight.

Mitzi passed the stones to Jack and Maddie and performed the test again as soon as she took them back. This time the two stones clicked together as soon as they drew near each other.

Maddie smirked. “I suppose Vlad is wanting to test with me, just out of curiosity,” she said without even a glance in his direction.

Again Mitzi performed the test. This time the two stones repelled each other so strongly that one of them shot out of the bowl and skittered off the table into a far corner of the room.

Vlad let his head drop to the table with a loud thump. He should’ve known, yet he’d still held out some hope. Seeing the stone leave the bowl felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. But at least the first test might allow him to get Mitzi to give his heart back and shove off if he could convince her that he and Jack were a thing. His skin crawled just thinking about the fact that he might have to get... Intimate, with Jack.

“Are you done moping yet?” Mitzi asked, cutting Vlad’s silent pity party short.

He lifted his head as Mitzi’s pet brought the errant stone back to her.

“You should be happy, really. You’re more compatible with Jack here than with Reginald,” Mitzi said. “Be that as it may, however, I still expect you to prove your relationship to me.”

“Of course,” Vlad said with a wave of his hand. “How should we do it? A tender embrace? Something of that sort?” he asked, his stomach churning even as he made the suggestion.

“You will perform a series of trials that I have devised for you, perhaps more beyond them if things prove difficult,” Mitzi said, without even considering his suggestion. “And when I am satisfied you will have your heart back. We start tomorrow.”

Vlad was expecting Danny to pull him aside once Mitzi dismissed them for the day. He’d even been expecting the boy to use force. The landing still ended up being painful, however.

~~~

“Must you do that every time you’re annoyed with me?” Vlad asked as he shoved the remains of a bookshelf off of himself. Danny had waited around half an hour before jumping him, catching him by surprise in his library as he tried to find any way out of this mess that didn’t involve playing Mitzi’s game.

“You’re the one who set the precedent the first time we met, I’m just following through,” Danny replied, arms folded over his chest as he watched Vlad. “Now spill it, Plasmius. What are you really up to?”

Vlad let out a grumbling sigh and got to his feet, shedding a few books as he did so. “Basically what I told your parents, with a few details omitted, obviously,” he replied.

“Those details being?”

There was a brief pause as Vlad considered whether or not he could trust Danny with the information, then realized it didn’t matter; the boy would find out either way, and he might even win a bit of trust from him if he was open about it now. “My heart wasn’t the only thing the artifact stole. It carved out a considerable portion of my ghost powers as well, it took most of my strength just to fly over to FentonWorks.”

“So that’s why you look worse than usual,” Danny quipped. He paused, one hand to his chin as he thought about something. “Sooo the chances that I could get rid of this ghost and get you away from my parents early—”

“Don’t fight her,” Vlad said, cutting Danny off. He didn’t want to think about what could await him if she succeeded in destroying his heart—full ghost at best, total annihilation at worst. “It’s too risky, just as I said to your parents.”

 “And you decided to tick off this ghost, why?” Danny asked. “I know it wasn’t some noble goal of keeping the artifact out of her hands. It was probably hers to begin with, wasn’t it?”

“A curiosity, to see if it could help me achieve a long-term goal,” Vlad replied stiffly.

“Right. So you were gonna try to use it to pair up with my mom,” Danny said, hitting the nail on the head. He smirked and huffed a short laugh through his nose. “And now you have to pretend to pair up with my dad instead, how’s that for irony?”

“Are you quite finished with your little interrogation?” Vlad rolled his shoulder, holding back a wince when it twinged; his healing factor was down too with his power levels being so low. His entire body was a mass of aches thanks to Danny’s attack. “I have special time with your father to prepare for.”

“Well, I do have to warn you that if you’re planning to use this to ruin my parents’ marriage—”

“Which I am not because that could jeopardize my own survival,” Vlad snapped. “Not to mention that your mother already implied ugly things if I did anything of the sort. I just want to put this whole mess behind me so I can forget it ever happened.”

“You’re lucky my dad is willing to go the distance for you like this,” Danny said, his smile fading. “You really do take him for granted.”

That got Vlad angry. He took a deep breath through his nose and clenched his fists; had he been at full power he would’ve blasted the brat right out of the air before he’d even finished the sentence. Go the distance? For twenty years Jack had proved what distance he was willing to go for Vlad, and it was woefully short. He only cared because Vlad was worth something now, and there was no way Vlad was falling for such an obvious trick. “I will give him as much esteem as a fairweather friend deserves, and nothing more,” Vlad said, forcing his tone to remain level. “I don’t know what your father told you about our past, but he gave me no reason to keep seeing him as a true friend after what he did to me.”

“Oh come on! Would you just move on already?” Danny said, his own frustration starting to show itself. “Everyone would be happier if you could just get over yourself and—”

“Do not speak of things you clearly know nothing about,” Vlad snapped, his tone declaring that while he could do nothing about Danny now he would certainly remember everything that happened and act on it later. “He ruins my life and pretends I don’t exist for two decades, then acts like nothing happened the next time we meet. Why don’t you tell me how you would treat a friend like that?”

“Ruined your life? What, by giving you superpowers?”

“You’re lucky that your own transition was so brief,” Vlad said, the breath behind his words hot with fury. He tried to calm himself by smoothing the wrinkles out of his sleeve and adjusting his suit cuff, his hands shaking as he did so; it didn’t work. “You would’ve broken long before I did had you endured mine.”

Danny didn’t reply, but by the incredulous look on his face the message hadn’t made it through. At last he sighed and leaned back. “Whatever. As long as you’re not after my parents I guess I won’t do anything.” He flew away, flashing into invisibility just before he phased through the far wall.

The clean noon light faded back into proper prominence, having been temporarily chased away by Danny’s ghostly influence. It was the sort of thing Vlad typically didn’t notice, given that he was usually the source. The room’s return to normal temperature also brought his attention to the heat pouring off his face.

Vlad looked down at his hand. The trembling was barely noticeable now, but it was still there. How had Danny managed to get a rise out of him with such ease? And when he wasn’t even trying to do so, no less.

He let his arms drop and took a deep breath to steady himself. It had to be the exhaustion that hung over him. Being low on ghostly power always made his human body tired. This was no different. Now he had to mentally prepare for the hell to come and try to get as much sleep as possible tonight.

~~~

The blast doors on the Fenton Portal were closed, to keep any additional ghostly interlopers from causing problems in the days to come. Jack missed the low hum it filled the lab with whenever it was open. He found it strangely comforting.

Noise from the various devices spread around their lab filled the gap in the background noise instead. Jack and Maddie had gotten back to business as usual after leaving Vlad’s house, though Vlad’s situation never strayed far from Jack’s mind.

“Man, I can’t believe Vladdie’s heart got stolen like that! Talk about creepy…” Jack said during a brief break from working on the circuitry of their latest prototype.

“Well, I suppose that’s what he gets for not leaving such things to the professionals,” Maddie said, not bothering to look up from her work on the prototype’s outer shell. By the way she paused in her work Jack knew she had more to say, but she chose not to share whatever it was.

“You’re… Okay with this, right?” Jack asked hesitantly. While she hadn’t objected to it while they were caught up in what was going on, he was still wary that she might have changed her mind. He couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Vlad to some ghost, but if Maddie wanted otherwise that would complicate things.

“It’s fine. In fact, this might be exactly what Vlad’s been needing lately,” Maddie replied. “It’ll make him appreciate you more.”

Jack released the tension that had been building in his shoulders as he waited for her reply. That was a relief. The confidence in Maddie’s voice reassured him that she didn’t see Vlad as some sort of romantic threat, too. He’d been a tad worried about that from time to time but never had the courage to bring it up. “I’m just happy to spend time with him. Wonder what kind of stuff we’ll be doing tomorrow...”

The First Trials

It was a beautiful day. The light was clear and the air crisp and gilded with golden threads of birdsong. A light breeze caressed the trees around the trail, its chilly touch just strong enough to keep any heat of exertion at bay, even through the long sleeve shirt, jeans, and hiking boots Vlad had chosen to wear.

The natural beauty of the place was lost on Vlad as he focused on two things: getting away from Jack, and trying to figure out a way to avoid having to spend more time with Jack. He’d hit his limit before they even reached the trail Mitzi had chosen for the trial and now he set a relentless pace that kept Jack on the move and out of breath, keeping the excruciating smalltalk at bay and putting a good bit of distance between them.

Vlad arrived at the first overlook and spared a few moments to stare out over the forest below, spotting the shining blue sliver of Lake Erie in the distance. He moved on just as Jack made it to the overlook.

It was just past noon when Vlad arrived at the trailhead again. He had as many answers as he’d started the hike with, which was none. Frustrating, but at least they would be heading home soon.

Maddie raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. “Where’s Jack?”

Mitzi floated beside her, looking completely unamused. “Yes, where is your partner? I had hoped you would be enjoying the trail together.”

“He was right behind me just a moment ago.” Vlad turned back to the mouth of the trail and started toward it.

Jack joined them before Vlad could set foot on the trail again, out of breath and very sweaty in the long sleeve shirt and overalls he’d worn for the hike. “That was—” he paused to catch his breath, “—a real workout. Thanks for pushing me there, Vladdie.” Jack gave Vlad a thumbs up, and for a moment Vlad wondered if he was actually trying to trick Mitzi into thinking this was intentional.

Mitzi spoke before Vlad had the chance to roll with it: “This is how you treat someone so close? How disappointing.” She shook her head, arms crossed over her chest. “You have failed this trial.”

“Failed?!” Vlad broke out into a cold sweat as he scrambled silently for some way to talk her out of giving them a failing grade. “But we completed the hike, didn’t we?” A weak attempt, one that he regretted even as it left his mouth.

“The point of this trial was to enjoy nature together. You barely enjoyed the nature and you were not together. It’s as if you can barely stand to be around this man you claimed to be your partner.”

“But—”

Mitzi held up a hand, silencing him before he could get another word out. “You have failed this assignment. Do not embarrass yourself further by trying to talk around this.”

Jack straightened and huffed as big a laugh as he could while still out of breath. “Don’t worry, Vladdie! We’ll ace the next one!” he declared as he pulled Vlad in for a tight, sweaty side-hug—and made Vlad regret every moment he’d forced Jack into a fast pace on the hike.

“You’d better. This is your first strike. Two more and I’ll be shipping you off to Reginald.”

Vlad went pale. They were doomed. He couldn’t even remember saying Jack’s name when Mitzi asked if he had anyone he’d want to be with, he’d been scrambling through the beginnings of a plan to get Maddie to help him and was thinking so intensely on it that he must’ve said it by accident. There was no way he’d be able to tamp down his anger long enough to make it through the rest of these trials; they were only delaying the inevitable at this point.

“I will let you rest for a few hours, then the next trial will begin,” Mitzi said, cutting Vlad’s ruminations short. “Take care not to disappoint me next time.”

~~~

Mitzi wanted them to waltz. Jack had never waltzed before, but he could dance and that had to be good enough. They’d ace this trial no problem and put things back on track.

They were in the small ballroom on the west side of Vlad’s mansion, making space while Mitzi selected the music they would dance to. Jack did his best to ignore the ache in his legs as they moved the furniture to the walls. He’d had a few hours to clean himself up and recover after the hike trial, but he was definitely going to feel it for a few days with the pace Vlad set for them.

At last Mitzi found the music she wanted and played it for them. It was a classical piece, definitely not something Jack was used to dancing to, but they only had to waltz until the end of the song and that would be this trial in the bag.

Jack met Vlad in the middle of the cleared space. The floor under their feet was hard polished wood that made even Jack’s boots sound fancy as he walked across it and held the afternoon light like the surface of a still pond.

Vlad’s usual suit was as crisp as ever, but he looked tired. The shadows under his eyes were more pronounced than usual, and Jack hadn’t seen him smile even once today. “Do you know how to waltz?” he asked as he looked up at Jack. The light playing across his hair made it shine almost like moonlight, and Jack’s pulse quickened a bit as he looked at it.

“Nope, but we’ll figure it out,” Jack said with absolute confidence. There was nothing they couldn’t face when they worked together, after all. The hiking trial was just a fluke.

“Right.” Vlad closed his eyes for a moment, then drew himself up to full height. “I’ll take the lead, then. Just follow my movements and we’ll be fine.”

Their first silent attempts were clumsy, but as long as Jack kept his attention on their feet he managed to keep time. His grin faded somewhat when he looked up and noticed that Vlad still wasn’t smiling. Nerves, probably. Jack couldn’t blame him with his actual heart on the line.

“Passable,” Mitzi said. “Let’s see how well you do with music.”

They started their waltz with Vlad leading them in time with the music. It was getting easier and easier as they moved. Jack lifted his attention from their feet and grinned at Vlad.

“We’ve got this one in the bag,” Jack said, his voice just loud enough for Vlad to hear over the music. 

“Yes, just keep following my lead and we’ll make it through this,” Vlad replied, looking a little more relaxed now. Jack couldn’t help but admire his grace, he was dancing so well even when he was this tired.

“We could even spice things up a bit and pass this thing with flying colors!”

“Wait, Jack—” Anything else Vlad had to say was cut off as Jack yanked him into a spin. “Jack, we just have to do a waltz!”

“We got that down, let’s try to impress her.”

Vlad pulled Jack back into the waltz and winced. “You can’t just change the plan without asking me first!”

“But I did ask,” Jack said as he let himself get swept up in the music again.

Another wince from Vlad as they completed another round. “You did not ask.” Vlad winced again and his frown deepened. “You told me your idea and just went ahead with it before I could say otherwise.”

“Come on, it’ll be fine! We’re already halfway through!” Jack swung Vlad around again and tried to push back into the waltz at the end.

Vlad winced and grit his teeth. “Jack, stop.”

“But we’re past the halfway mark, we just have to keep going a little longer!” Jack caught Vlad as he fell back and kept up with the dance. Probably soreness from the hike making him stumble, poor guy.

“Jack—”

“Don’t worry, Vladdie. We’re almost there!” It had to be because Vlad was tired from the hike. With that being the case Jack would just have to lead.

“Jack!” Vlad stumbled again and almost lost his footing.

“It’s fine, we’re doing a-oka—”

“You’re hurting me!”

Jack stopped and stared at Vlad for a few moments, then he looked down. He was standing on both of Vlad’s feet. “Oh.” Jack stepped back.

Vlad pulled himself free of Jack’s grasp, then limped to the nearest chair and sat down.

The CD moved to the next track.

Jack remained where he was, unsure of what to do with himself. They’d almost done it. They were even having a good time...

Vlad had his head down, his expression hidden from Jack. He had to be tired from the hike, and had to be stressed over what was going on. Taking risks was probably even scarier than usual.

Which meant Jack had gotten carried away again...

Jack approached slowly, and Vlad didn’t stir when he reached him. “Uh, could we try again?” he asked hesitantly. “I’ll let you lead.”

For a moment he worried Vlad might not reply. “Fine,” Vlad said finally. “Just don’t step on my feet this time.” He allowed Jack to pull him up from the seat and followed him to the center of the dance floor.

Mitzi started the music again.

Jack watched Vlad’s movements and followed, taking special care to avoid his feet. Their waltz was still clumsy, but it caused a minimum of pain for Vlad this time. The music dulled to background noise as Jack focused on his dance partner.

Vlad still wasn’t smiling. In fact the set of his jaw suggested he was angry and trying to hold it back. It brought to mind something Mitzi said earlier: it’s as if you can barely stand to be around this man... But that couldn’t be right. They were friends. Vlad invited him back into his life with the reunion invitation, and then he’d even moved to Amity Park to be closer to them... The situation was just a bit awkward because Jack was a married man.

There was the way Vlad was holding himself at a distance too... But that could be explained by the fact that Jack was married again. Didn’t want to give Maddie the wrong idea. But it still hurt after how close they’d been back in college...

The end of the waltz was drawing near. Vlad’s knees buckled as they came to a standstill and Jack swept him into a dip to hide it. Not that they needed to, but it felt natural.

Vlad blushed deep red when he realized what was happening, but he said nothing.

Jack felt the sudden desire to complete the dip with a kiss the way he did with Maddie. He resisted and brought them back up to a standing position again. That would definitely be too far, despite their current couples act. It would only be acceptable if Vlad invited it. Jack held Vlad a little closer all the same and met no resistance; he was still worried that Vlad’s legs might give out again.

Mitzi applauded them, her pet joining in with a toothy grin. “Excellent. You have passed the trial.”

Vlad let out a long sigh and went limp in Jack’s arms. “Thank goodness.”

“That’s it?” Jack asked, looking at Mitzi with surprise.

“I don’t expect you to waltz professionally, just successfully,” Mitzi replied. “And you did, I’m pleased to say.”

“Good, good,” Vlad said distantly. He started to step back. “Alright, Jack. You can let me go now.”

“Oh, right.” Jack let him go.

Vlad made it back to the chair and collapsed into it. “Are we doing any more today?” he asked after taking a few moments to recover, his tone fearful.

“That’s all for today,” Mitzi replied. “I can’t expect you to show me your best if I run you into the ground, after all.” She paused to consider something. “Though one’s true mettle does reveal itself under stressful situations, now that I think about it.”

Jack and Vlad shared a worried look.

“Perhaps another day,” Mitzi said, finishing the thought. “For now, go take your rest and prepare for tomorrow.”

~~~

Vlad stared up at his bedroom ceiling, too tired to do anything other than lay around with his feet up and mope. He’d alternated between ice and compression as soon as Jack was out the door, and they still ached terribly regardless. The fact that his body was more durable than that of a typical human had saved him from worse than the multitudinous bruises he dealt with now. Any normal human would’ve walked away with a few broken toes at best after dancing with Jack.

Just what was he thinking earlier? They were doing fine with Vlad leading the waltz but all of a sudden Jack had to ‘improve’ on it. As if what Vlad was doing just wasn’t good enough. Stepping all over his feet like that had probably been intentional too.

Vlad shifted his legs to keep them from falling asleep.

Jack probably would’ve kept on doing it had Vlad not told him. And not even a whiff of an apology afterward too. Some things never changed, but at least he wasn’t making excuses for himself this time. No, he’d just pretended it didn’t happen and moved on. It wasn’t in Jack’s nature to admit to doing wrong. Danny’s ability to say ‘sorry’ at all had to have come entirely from Maddie.

The way he’d told Jack bothered him. You’re hurting me. It was the truth, but it sounded weak and pathetic. Like he was beneath Jack when he should’ve been above being able to be hurt by thim.

Vlad turned onto his side to give himself something new to stare at, his legs slipping off the pillows as he did so.

He’d been letting Jack hurt him for years, by carrying that grudge. But doing otherwise felt like letting Jack off easy after the damage he’d done. After all the years of pain he’d caused without so much as an ‘I’m sorry’ to say for himself when they finally met again. Jack Fenton was an arrogant fool who forced everyone around him to pay the price of his good fortune.

A set of paws kneading biscuits into his ribs cut off any further musing. Vlad turned his head and found his slender white cat Marty standing over him, purring and biscuiting away without a care in the world.

“Hello there my little man,” Vlad said as he turned over to give Marty a better perch. “Are you making your bread again?”

Marty gave a little chirp of a meow and settled on Vlad’s chest, eyes closed and fangs hanging out of his mouth in a way that Vlad found absolutely adorable.

“Oh what would I do without you,” Vlad said, smiling. He scratched at Marty’s neck and was rewarded with an even louder purr. Yes, no point in wasting any more energy on Jack than necessary. Vlad would just have to rest up and try to get through the next day with as much grace as he could muster.

~~~

Jack set his needlepoint project on the bedside table; he was making clumsy stitches, and it was clear that he would just keep doing it if he tried any more tonight. “Maddie?” he asked, looking over at her.

“Hmm?” Maddie kept her attention on her book for a few moments longer, then looked up at him. “Yes, Jack?”

“Do you think Vlad still likes me?”

Maddie’s eyebrows snapped up with surprise. “What brought this on?”

“Well what that ghost said after the hike, and Vlad wasn’t having fun at all even though I was…” Jack fiddled with the sleeve of his night suit as he thought it over again. “So it made me wonder.”

“Better late than never,” Maddie said to herself as she placed her bookmark and set her book aside. “Though to be fair, Jack, you were stepping all over his feet during that first waltz.”

“I didn’t know I was doing that!” Jack said defensively. “I would’ve stopped sooner if he told me,” he added.

Maddie gave a quiet sigh. “I know, you do get caught up in your head so easily. It’s just something people have to get used to.”

“But Vlad knows me. He knew how to roll with it back in college.”

“That was twenty years ago, Jack,” Maddie said. “And you didn’t part on the best terms back then. You really don’t think he’s changed?”

“Well I...” Jack stopped. He had no real answer. Didn’t want to find the answer, more like. He’d caught glimpses of his old friend here and there, behind the mask of wealth and success. The Vlad he knew had to be in there somewhere. He’d assumed that Vlad just needed time to unwind around him, that they would eventually reclaim what they’d left behind in college. He’d assumed that Vlad was trying in his own way, and just hadn’t found his stride yet. That he wanted to be Jack’s friend too.

He’d assumed, and he’d assumed. Earlier he’d assumed that Vlad needed him to take over the dance, but really he just needed Jack to keep following along with what they already had planned. They hadn’t needed to do the fancier things that Jack wanted, just what was necessary. In the end he’d been trying to show off for Vlad instead of doing what Vlad needed.

“I don’t know,” Jack said.

“Well, maybe it’s about time you found out,” Maddie said. 

~~~

The stove was on fire. Not the parts of the stove that should have fire coming out of them, but the pans and pots and all the parts in between.

Vlad put a fire blanket over the lot and tucked in the edges to trap out the air. His physical movements were carefully controlled, but inside he was screaming. He never should’ve left Jack unattended in his kitchen. This was an absolute disaster.

“Whoops, haha,” Jack said, at least having the grace to sound embarrassed over what he’d done. “Guess things got away from me there.”

“Yes, you managed to put us back to square one in a single stroke,” Vlad grumbled. He should’ve known better than to let Jack handle something like this by himself—he’d always been an absentminded cook at best from what Vlad remembered. Vlad sighed and ran a hand down his face. “I don’t have enough ingredients on hand to make the same thing again. We’ll have to figure something else out.”

“I’ll uh, go check on everyone,” Jack said, and he slipped out of the kitchen before Vlad had a chance to tell him otherwise.

That was just as well for now. Let Jack try to explain the delay to his family without admitting he was at fault. Vlad didn’t need Jack distracting him while he tried to think anyway, that was already hard enough at the moment; his feet still hurt from yesterday, he was tired from most of his ghost powers being absent, and the stress of falling behind and dealing with Jack’s antics had him near breaking point.

What he needed most right now, at this moment, was to get off his feet.

Vlad took a seat at the kitchen table and rested his head on his arms, trying to will ideas into his tired and overwhelmed brain. He had sandwich makings, but the meal had to be more elaborate than that. Something he and Jack would be putting together as a team that didn’t just take five minutes to make.

“Hey, Vladdie.”

“What is it?” Vlad growled.

“I know how to buy us some time.”

“Oh what, are you going to distract them by setting my dining room table on fire too?”

“Nah that would make things worse,” Jack said with complete seriousness. “I was thinking we should do a cheese board. Y’know, as a warm up for the main course.”

Vlad lifted his head and looked up at Jack. “You got the idea from Maddie, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Actually it was all mine!” Jack declared proudly.

Vlad wondered if he was lying to save face, then decided it didn’t matter at the moment. “Well I’ve got a good selection on hand at least,” he said as he hauled himself to his feet and started toward the fridge.

“I can put it together,” Jack said, moving to head Vlad off before he could get there. “You plan a new meal while I do that.”

“Fine, fine,” Vlad said with a wave of his hand. “Just don’t set the board on fire too.”

“No worries, V-man. This’ll be easy!”

Vlad retrieved his best cheese board from its slot in a cupboard and passed it off to Jack, then took stock of the ingredients they had on hand. Sandwich makings... He could turn them into monte cristo sandwiches, which were at least more entertaining than regular sandwiches. Vlad took a few cookbooks down from the shelf and flipped through at random in search of ideas. Now what to serve with it, something light and crisp to counteract the savory sweetness of the monte cristo… Fresh fruit parfaits? Those would be a good dessert. A green salad with light vinaigrette dressing would do for a side, and tomato bisque was always a winner when it came to soups.

“Hey, Vlad.”

“Hmm?” Vlad looked up from his planning and found Jack standing across the island from him.

“Ta-da!” Jack swept a hand over his creation.

Vlad had been expecting Jack to simply throw cheese and crackers on the board and call it a day, but what he found instead was much more than that: a variety of cheeses and crackers of course, but there were also grapes, apples, pears, artichoke hearts, olives, and a green dip that he guessed was pesto. In all it was a board that offered a nice variety of flavors to accompany the cheese, and all it needed now were some suitable refreshments to accompany it.

“Well, I’m impressed, Jack,” Vlad said. It was a sincerely pleasant surprise to see something turn out right. “How did you make your selections? You did a good job.”

“Uuh...” Jack stared at him blankly. “I dunno, I just thought it would taste good together,” he said with a shrug.

“Right... You’ve always been a man of instinct, haven’t you?” Vlad said, partially speaking to himself. It was a trait that, paired with Jack’s amazing luck, allowed him to get away with his spontaneity a lot of the time. “I have some ciders that will go well with this, they’re in the fridge.”

Jack took the cheese board out while Vlad wrote down their new menu and found the required recipes for it. They had more time to prepare the new meal, so Jack had at least somewhat redeemed himself for what he’d done earlier. Vlad was not letting him use the stove under any circumstances, but that didn’t mean Jack couldn’t help elsewhere...

Vlad was ready when Jack returned. “I have a plan,” he said. “Are you ready to help?”

“Lay it on me, Vladdie!” Jack said with utmost gusto.

“I want you to be my assistant while I prepare the dishes. So you’ll be doing things like prepping ingredients and getting plates and such ready. Can you do that?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jack replied. “Let’s get cracking!”

~~~

The lunch was a success. What Jack lacked as an individual cook he made up for as an assistant to one. He’d been at Vlad’s elbow throughout, ready to help and even able to preempt what Vlad needed at times, and it had even become somewhat enjoyable to work with him toward the end. Not that those feelings would last long. It was just a matter of time before Jack hurt him again.

“You have passed the trial,” Mitzi said, giving them a genuine smile.

“We did it!” Jack gave Vlad a wide grin.

“That we did,” Vlad said, his voice flat with exhaustion. He swirled his peach spritzer and took a sip. The trial had taken its toll regardless of success. Hopefully there would be nothing more today.

Real Talk

The picnic was pleasant enough. They’d again worked together to prepare it, as they’d done the previous day, a light affair like an afternoon tea since lunch had already passed. It was a sunny spring day, and the hill they’d picked out in Amity’s largest park offered a nice view of the city.

“Hey Vlad, have you been okay lately?” Jack asked as he looked over at him.

Vlad stared at him blankly. He was really asking that, given the circumstances?

“I mean outside of the stuff that’s going on right now,” Jack said hastily.

“Am I okay?” Vlad had to stop and think about it, swirling his iced tea as he did so. If he was being honest with himself, his life didn’t feel particularly… Happy. It was one long string of goals with a temporary high whenever one was achieved, but the moments in between weren’t particularly happy on their own. They gave him too much time to brood on the past, so he moved through them as quickly as possible. “No, I suppose not,” he admitted aloud, to his own surprise.

A panicked look settled on Jack’s face upon hearing that. “Oh, uh…” Jack looked away, plainly unable to think of an adequate reply. The fool, he shouldn’t have asked such a question if he wasn’t prepared for the truth. “Chin up…?” he tried as he turned to Vlad again, giving him a weak smile and a thumbs up.

Vlad said nothing in reply, settling for a cold stare before turning away himself. He hadn’t had any hope that Jack might be supportive to begin with, but that reply was so pathetic that he couldn’t even glean any joy from watching Jack squirm. The resulting silence that stretched between them quickly became too much, and Vlad got to his feet. “I’m going for a walk,” he said, and he left it up to Jack on whether he had the nerve to follow or not.

Jack did follow him, after letting him walk ahead a few paces, and tailed him all the way down to the shore of the nearest duck pond.

A pair of swans swam past, along with several ducks that kept a respectful distance from their larger relatives. The breeze that meandered over the pond and stirred its surface was sharp enough to bite through Vlad’s suit. Part of him acknowledged that such would be a catalyst for getting a real couple to draw closer together for warmth, and so he ignored it.

“So you’re not supposed to feed them bread, huh?” Jack said.

Vlad looked over at him and noticed the sign he’d been reading, a handy infographic that pointed visitors away from bread and toward foods that were better suited for aquatic fowl, such as lettuce, frozen peas, and birdseed. “Well if you can’t convince people not to feed them to begin with, it’s best to tell them what you should feed them instead,” he acknowledged. Such an empty conversation. It left him as cold as the sharp spring breeze.

“I’ve been having fun spending time with you,” Jack said, perhaps to make up for his lackluster performance earlier. “Even though it’s not happening for the best reason, I mean,” he added.

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Vlad said. This charade of friendship was so tiresome without some other goal to occupy him. Part of him wished Jack would wise up already, even as another part wished it was easier to be around him. He did miss those college days, when he let himself be honest, but Jack was just so… Unreliable. Vlad couldn’t trust him not to cause the equivalent of a proto-portal accident all over again and then just make excuses and disappear like last time, if he even remotely acknowledged that he had some hand in it, anyway.

Jack seemed to get some sort of hint from Vlad’s lack of reciprocity and dropped the matter without comment. “I guess we’ve been out here long enough,” he said after more silence filled with the sigh of the breeze and the chatter of the ducks. “Should we head out?”

“Sounds good,” Vlad said. He turned, putting all his weight on the leg nearest to the pond.

The bank gave way under his foot and dumped him into the pond with a loud splash, scattering the nearby ducks and drawing the swan pair’s ire. They hissed and swatted at him with their wings a few times—Vlad covered his face to avoid a broken nose—before swimming off in a huff.

“Man, you have the worst luck sometimes,” Jack said, a sympathetic tilt to his brows as he helped Vlad out of the pond. “Your house blowing up, that ghost attack at the reunion, the proto-portal accident... You didn’t break any mirrors, did you?” Jack added, adding a small nervous chuckle to the question.

The final item on the list didn’t escape Vlad’s notice. He grit his teeth and glared at the grass between their feet as his anger flared to a roaring blaze. Just bad luck? Was that what he’d convinced himself it was? “Do you know how long I was stuck in the hospital after the accident, Jack?” Vlad asked, his gaze still on the grass.

“You said it was a few years,” Jack replied. Any humor in his voice was gone, replaced with a hesitant wariness.

“Five years,” Vlad said. “And do you know what it’s like to be infected with ecto-acne?”

“I mean, it’s pretty bad stuff. You and the kids were dying there for a bit, before we found the cure.”

“Ah yes, the diet cola component. However could that have gotten mixed into the proto-portal’s power signature, I wonder?” Vlad made a show of pondering on the question, one hand held to his chin as he did so. “It’s as if someone poured the wrong substance into the filtrator because they weren’t paying enough attention,” he said, noting Jack’s flinch as he spoke. “‘Pretty bad’, hmm? Those paltry little words fail to encapsulate what it was like to live with ecto-acne. It returned for monthly flare-ups after I got out of the hospital and every time I had to wonder... What function would I lose and for how long, and would it be the end of me this time?” Vlad paused for a humorless chuckle. “Ecto-acne. What an embarrassing, innocuous name for such a wretched illness.”

“Vlad?”

“What’s wrong? Haven’t you been wanting to talk to me?” At last Vlad looked up and met Jack’s eye. “Does this subject matter make you uncomfortable? I can’t imagine why.”

“Well it’s just, you shouldn’t dwell on the past, right?” Jack offered with an attempt at a smile. The worry was apparent on Jack’s face now, but Vlad took no pleasure in it. After all this time and all this pain, Jack still wanted to run away; to say that Vlad was disappointed by this was a gross understatement. “And besides, look at where you ended up! A genius billionaire, and you used your time in the hospital to plan it out.” Jack’s smile widened a little, despite the worry that still hung across his brow.

“And how lucky I was that those plans succeeded,” Vlad said smoothly. He was not letting Jack run away from this. Not this time. “After all, it wasn’t as if I could count on anyone else to help me out of the mountains of medical debt I was saddled with. Not family, not friends,” Vlad said the word with a special amount of venom, making Jack flinch again. He closed his eyes and lifted his head toward the sky. “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened to me had my plans fallen through, and I always come to the same answer.” Vlad lowered his head and met Jack’s eye again. “I would’ve died, drowning in medical debt as I succumbed to a disease that had no cure.”

“I—” Jack reached out to Vlad, but stopped short of touching him. “Vlad, I would’ve helped you before that happened.”

“Oh please,” Vlad said, his voice cold. “We both know that’s a lie, Jack. You didn’t work for a cure until Danny’s friends were involved, and even then you couldn’t find it. I’m lucky that Danny was willing to go the distance for his friends. It’s such a shame that I can’t say the same of his father.”

“That’s not true,” Jack said, getting a little strength back in his voice. “I’m right here helping you now, aren’t I? I’ve been ready to help you get through this since the moment I heard about it.”

“Yes, I do admit that you’re eager enough when it comes to fixing problems you didn’t cause. I suppose I can commend you for that.” Vlad watched Jack for a few moments. “But there’s still something that’s bothering me about what you said earlier.”

“Which part...?” Jack asked, the worry returning in full force.

“So the proto-portal accident and all that came of it was just bad luck? Is that really what you think?” Vlad said, his words slow and deliberate.

“Well yeah, none of us expected it to blow up,” Jack replied with a shrug. “What else would it be?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Vlad said coldly, tapping one sodden shoe against the grass. The cold was a distant memory now, with the fire of anger burning hot in his chest. “I always saw it as an easily preventable accident.”

Jack held his hands palm-up in a placating gesture. “But we had no idea it would happen!”

“Maddie spotted the mistake in your calculations within seconds of seeing them.” Vlad kept his voice level, but the seething heat was making its way through, in the tension that made his neck and jaw ache. He couldn’t believe Jack was trying to pull this. As if the accident and the moments prior hadn’t played themselves back in Vlad’s head over and over as he lay in that hospital bed. “If you had taken even a moment to listen to her or to check your calculations it wouldn’t have happened.”

“But it was just an accident—”

“An accident does not preclude one from fault, Jack!” Vlad snapped. “If you hit someone with your car while speeding, you are at fault. If you drop something from a tall building and it hits someone on the sidewalk, you are at fault.” An angry heat poured off his face, and his breaths came quick and hot; the only thing missing was his heart pounding against his ribcage, though he was sure it was doing the same against the interior of the artifact even now. “And if you turn on an experimental portal device without so much as checking that the area is clear and giving no time for someone to get out of the way, you. Are. At. Fault!”

Vlad paused to catch his breath, surprised by his own vitriol. But he’d been waiting to say this to Jack for years, hadn’t he? He’d just hoped that Jack’s reaction would’ve been different...

“I mean, you shouldn’t have been standing so close to it to begin with...”

Vlad’s breath caught in his chest, as if he’d been kicked. He remembered that one, or rather, one of its kin, from the frantic minutes following the accident. The first words out of Jack’s mouth were excuses, attempts to pass blame, and what Jack just said had been among them. Never once had he admitted fault or apologized for what he’d done.

“You really haven’t changed at all, have you?” Vlad’s anger cooled somewhat, tempered by sorrowful disappointment. They would never see eye to eye on this, and Vlad would never get his resolution. It was time to give up on that. “No matter what happens, it’s never your fault.”

“I didn’t mean it, Vlad. You know that.” Jack’s tone had a gentle desperation to it. Vlad didn’t care to puzzle out what that desperation might be for. It certainly couldn’t be his friendship. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did.” Vlad took a step back, and the cold of the breeze playing across his soaked suit crept back in. “You hurt me, and then you left me for dead and never looked back.” He turned, and started back up the hill. “I’m going home. We have nothing more to talk about.”

Vlad noticed Mitzi lurking under the shadow of a nearby tree. “Strike two,” he said as he passed her by. There was no point in trying to talk his way out of how this one ended. One more failure and it was off to Reginald, though part of him wondered if that might actually be preferable to the possibility of being stuck with Jack Fenton. He’d certainly found ghosts easier to exterminate than humans, and this Reginald had to have cracks in his armor...

~~~

Jack knew it wouldn’t help to follow Vlad. So instead he packed up the picnic and, after a brief check to make sure Vlad wasn’t still around and in need of a ride, drove himself home.

He had his answer now, the one he’d been dreading. Vlad didn’t see him as a friend anymore. The accident made sure of that. What he didn’t understand was why Vlad had to keep holding on to something that was so painful. Jack would be drowning in misery if he did that.

Jazz was in the living room when Jack walked through the front door. “Hey dad, how did the picnic go?” she asked.

“Badly,” Jack replied. He left the picnic basket by the door and dropped onto the couch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Well I guess it couldn’t hurt,” Jack said with a shrug.

“So what happened?”

Jack sighed. “Vlad started talking about the accident, I can’t really remember why.” The start of the conversation’s descent was blurry, but Jack did remember mentioning bad luck… “He still hasn’t forgiven me for what happened. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Did you ever apologize...?”

“Of course I did!” Jack said defensively, then he stopped himself. “No, wait...” He tried to recall, then heaved a long sigh. “I don’t remember doing that right after the accident...”

“Then maybe you could start with an apology?” Jazz said with a hopeful smile.

“What’s that gonna fix? He already hates me,” Jack said, hanging his head.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz replied. “That kind of acknowledgement can accelerate someone’s recovery after trauma. And it can put a relationship on better terms.”

“You really think so?”

Jazz sighed. “Dad, you do need to get better about apologizing anyway. Just in general. It’s kinda sad that it was such an outlier for you to apologize to mom about forgetting your anniversary last year, and it’s still an outlier now.”

Jack drooped against the couch. “I guess it’s worth a try... But how am I supposed to make it stick? I can’t just say the word with nothing else to back it up.”

“Well, you need to make it clear that you understand what you did wrong and try not to do that again. Part of the apology is you proving you can be better.”

“But what if I mess up again?” Jack asked hopelessly. He knew his track record, though he tried to ignore it; any attempt he’d made at changing his ways just hadn’t stuck.

“Then you make sure you stick around to fix things afterward.”

Jack reddened slightly with embarrassment. That was another way he’d failed Vlad, now that he thought of it. Twenty years of absence was magnitudes worse than forgetting his anniversary a bunch of years in a row. Who knew if it was even possible to fix their relationship at this point.

But at least he had some idea of where to go from here.

“Thanks, Jasmine,” Jack said, smiling as he put an arm around her shoulder. “You’re the best daughter a dad could ask for!”

“Guilty as charged!” Jazz declared, lifting her head high with a grin. “I hope things work out with you and Vlad. I think it could be really good for both of you to have an actual friend.”

“What? I have—” Jack struggled to name a friend he had other than Vlad, and came up with nothing. “I mean, Vlad probably has friends, right?”

Jazz laughed. “He does not act like he has friends,” she said, her tone dead serious.

“Well if I can salvage this maybe he’ll have one.” Jack’s spirits were lifting already, though the thought of his coming talk with Vlad made him nervous. He’d have to prepare... Or trust on instinct now that he had a better idea of what to do.

Jack stood and started off, then stopped short and swung back around to give Jazz a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks again, Jasmine.”

“No problem.” Jazz gave him a kiss on the cheek in turn. “What’re you gonna do now?”

“I’m gonna go try out my new kitchen skills with your mom!” Jack declared.

~~~

Jazz waited for her dad to leave the room before calling out the spy who’d been listening in on the conversation: “I know you’re there, little brother.” She opened one of her notebooks as Danny popped back into visibility and leaned on the back of the couch.

“You really think things’ll get better if they’re friends?” Danny asked, his eyes on the kitchen doorway.

“It’ll mean Vlad has less motivation to mess with us if he actually cares about dad,” Jazz replied. “Plus maybe he’ll stop doing the villain stuff as much once he feels better in general.”

Danny didn’t answer right away, his attention temporarily turned inward to his own thoughts. “Yeah, maybe.”

Jazz knew there was something on his mind and patiently thumbed through her notebook as she waited for him to share it.

“I guess dad really did mess things up back then, huh?” Danny said finally.

“Did Vlad tell you something new when you went to talk to him the other day?”

“Well, he implied that it was long and painful when he turned into a half-ghost.”

Jazz grimaced. “And that would be on top of dealing with ecto-acne.”

Danny ran his hands down his face with a groan. “Why am I the one having to deal with dad’s crazy ex-friend all the time? It’s so dumb.”

“If this goes well then maybe you won’t have to anymore,” Jazz said, smiling.

~~~

Vlad turned the conversation over in his head again and again. He’d been unusually direct with Jack, almost suicidally so given the stakes. He should’ve been able to handle himself better, should’ve been able to pretend everything was fine and make it through the trials without issue, but his emotions were getting in the way.

And he had an idea as to why.

He’d come to the realization after mulling things over in the shower and putting on his pajamas, and now he strode toward the sun room at the back of his mansion where he was sure he would find the ghost he had in mind.

“You did something to me,” Vlad said as he came to a halt next to the round glass table she was seated at.

“Of course I did,” Mitzi said with a smirk. “I took your heart, do you need me to refresh your memory on how to get it back?”

“Not that,” Vlad said. “It’s my emotions. You’ve done something to them, haven’t you?”

“Oh, that.” Mitzi lifted the artifact, giving Vlad a good view of his own heart. It still made him slightly queasy when he saw it. “It’s the artifact you were trying to steal from me, dear. It opens a person’s heart, metaphorically speaking.”

Vlad’s eyes widened. “You’re going to force me—”

“Into loving someone? That’s not what it does, darling,” Mitzi said. “By open I mean that you’re simply more honest about what you already feel.”

“So you were intending to sabotage me from the start.” That made sense, perhaps she’d brokered some sort of deal with this Reginald and then lured Vlad into messing with the artifact. It sounded like a typical ghostly scheme.

Mitzi gave a melodramatic sigh. “Now you’re just being silly again. You’d be surprised at what a little emotional honesty can do for a relationship. Perhaps you should try it more often.”

“That ‘emotional honesty’ made me fail today’s trial.”

“I never said you failed. You did that yourself.”

“I was only stating the obvious.”

“The obvious?” Mitzi leaned one arm on the glass tabletop before her and looked up at him. “My my, I never thought the illustrious Vlad Plasmius would turn out to be such a quitter.”

“A quitter?!” Vlad snapped, indignant. How dare she say such a thing. His track record was not that of a quitter! “I am not a quitter, madame!”

“Oh really?” Mitzi stood, bringing her face level with his own. “So what’s the matter, then? Is this Jack Fenton just too much for you to handle? Has he already won?”

“He has not—” Vlad’s face began to heat up. Just how much did Mitzi know? She couldn’t know that Jack had defeated him in a head to head fight once, he’d worked so hard to make sure no one found out about that! No, she had to be talking about the trials. “Jack Fenton has not defeated me!”

“So you say,” Mitzi said. “But given your attitude I can’t say I’m terribly convinced.”

Vlad’s eyes flashed red for a moment. “Then I’ll prove it. I won’t let him stop me this time.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear it. In that case, I’ve picked out your next trial.” Mitzi leaned back with a smirk. “And as for when it will happen...” She looked up as her pet drifted down through the ceiling and coiled itself around her shoulders, whispering something in her ear as it did so. “Ah, excellent!” She returned her attention to Vlad. “Tonight you will be sharing a bed with your to-be partner. What you do in it is up to you, but I expect the two of you to share it for the majority of the night.”

Vlad could feel the color draining from his face when he heard that. “Tonight? I don’t get more time to prepare?”

“You’re the great Vlad Plasmius, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll figure it out!” Mitzi declared with a grin.

~~~

The hour of the next trial arrived far too soon. Vlad let Jack in at around eight in the evening but was unable to manage more than a frigid smile. So despite his earlier enthusiasm he wasn’t able to push back the artifact’s effects. He would have to play this carefully if he intended to win.

Mitzi escorted them to the bed they would be using. Not Vlad’s own massive bed, but a queen size bed in one of the many guest rooms scattered around his mansion. So she intended for them to get cozy. Just lovely. Vlad could only hope that Jack was as uninterested in anything but sleep as he was.

Jack gave Vlad a nervous smile as Mitzi closed the door behind herself and left them alone. “Well this shouldn’t be too hard. We got plenty of practice back in college.”

The memories of those warm nights rose in Vlad’s mind, and he viciously kicked them back down into the abyss where they belonged. “I expect you to not shove me out of the bed by morning, then.”

“Sooo what do you normally do before bedtime, Vladdie?”

“I’m going to sleep early.”

“Oh, okay,” Jack said weakly.

Vlad climbed into bed and pulled up the covers.

Jack took the other side of the bed. It was too small to keep the two from touching each other—if they were going to both stay on the bed at the same time, anyway.

An expectant silence hung over them after Jack turned off the light on his side of the bed. He probably wanted to talk.

Vlad braced himself, his anger already rising. What more was there to talk about after what happened today? Jack would have nothing but more excuses. They were the last thing Vlad wanted to hear right now.

Jack inhaled as if to say something, but nothing came of it. He resumed his normal breathing for a while as Vlad listened and waited.

“Sorry, Vlad,” Jack said finally. “About today, and the accident. I’m gonna do better from now on.”

For a moment Vlad couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Jack Fenton, apologizing for something? Had Vlad fallen into a parallel universe without noticing?

Vlad couldn’t deny that he’d wanted an apology from Jack ever since the accident, but he let it hang in the silence between them regardless. There was always the chance that he didn’t mean it.

And there was something else Vlad wanted, too. The answer to a question that had cut at his heart ever since he’d first asked it.

“Why did you leave me behind?” Vlad asked, his tone more tired than anything else. “I needed your help.”

“You told me to get lost, so I did,” Jack said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, you mean while I was in severe pain and reeling from the shock of getting my face blasted by spectral radiation? And while my so-called best friend was giving endless excuses for why it wasn’t his fault?” Vlad glared at the far wall. Yes, he did remember telling Jack to kick rocks, but he’d only done that as a response to the stream of excuses Jack had flung at him following the accident. What he’d wanted was for Jack to go and think about what he’d done and come back later. He hadn’t meant forever.

“I tried to visit you at the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me in,” Jack added.

“They deemed it non-contagious a month after I was first admitted,” Vlad said. “You could’ve visited then.”

Jack had no immediate reply. “I was too scared to face you by then,” he said. “I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“Funny. That’s exactly what you did by never showing up.”

“I know, I screwed up. I hurt my best friend cause I was careless. I made everything worse cause I was scared.” Jack heaved a long sigh. “I’d go back and change everything if I could.”

Vlad gave a humorless chuckle as Clockwork immediately came to mind. Best not to risk mentioning him though; with Vlad’s luck they’d both end up dead or with some other worse outcome. Jack meddling with the timeline was a thought too horrifying to entertain for long.

“And after I got out of the hospital?” Vlad asked.

“I did notice when you were making strides…” Jack admitted. “But I figured you had it handled, and how would that look if I only showed up then, right? So I decided to stay away until you decided you wanted me back.”

“I see.” Vlad couldn’t say whether he was satisfied with Jack’s answers or not. They sounded sincere enough, and they certainly weren’t meant to save face given that Jack had admitted to being a coward. A sort of numbness hung over Vlad now, coupled with a lighter feeling. As if something was no longer weighing him down.

“I still want to be your friend. I’ve really missed having you in my life, all these years... But I understand if you don’t want that, after everything.”

Vlad had no answer for him now. Twenty years of hate and resentment wasn’t something to be undone with one conversation... But said conversation could open up new avenues for them. It felt good to finally feel like he was being heard, that Jack was actually listening to him instead of bumbling endlessly on and assuming that everything was fine. Now he needed time to let everything sink in.

Perhaps the fact that he was even taking the time to consider the thought was a ray of hope.

So that issue needed time. Now to take care of the other thing that needed dealing with at the moment. Vlad pushed himself toward the center of the bed until his back made contact with Jack’s ribs.

“Vlad?” Jack asked, startled by the sudden move.

“The gap where the sheets hung between us was cold,” Vlad replied.

Jack gave a hesitant chuckle. “Yeah, I understand.”

~~~

Jack’s arm was draped over Vlad’s waist when he woke up the next morning. Vlad checked the time and found that it was a few minutes past seven. He slid out from under Jack’s arm and sat up, lingering on the edge of the bed. That was one of the best nights of sleep he’d had in years, though he hated to admit it. The human desire for contact wasn’t such an easy instinct to shake.

A strange unmoored feeling hung over him now, but he had to admit that it wasn’t a particularly unhappy feeling at least. Perhaps bewilderment might be a better descriptor. Had someone told him that Jack was capable of apologizing he wouldn’t have believed them, but he’d heard it with his own two ears last night. Jack was finally starting to acknowledge the gravity of what he’d done. There might be hope for them yet…

Movement on the other side of the bed derailed Vlad’s train of thought. Jack grunted as he did a full-body stretch, then flopped back against the bed again. “Wow, I slept great last night!” he declared as he sat up.

“I did as well,” Vlad said.

“So what now?”

“Call your family over. I think breakfast is in order.”

Jack grinned. “You got it, Vladdie!”

Where things could go next, Vlad wasn’t sure. He was content to watch and leave himself open for now.

~~~

Vlad and Jack walked abreast as they climbed the grand stone steps of Amity Park’s main museum. Jack had been eager for the new trial, though a tad hesitant for some reason. He finally spoke up as they walked into the main hall after buying their tickets.

“Hey, Vlad?”

“Something wrong?” Vlad asked as he turned to Jack.

“I’m not much of an art guy,” Jack replied, fidgeting by scratching at the back of his head. “I don’t think I really get it? So I probably won’t have anything interesting to say.”

“You don’t have to be an expert to enjoy art, Jack,” Vlad said. “Just look at it with an open mind, see where that takes you. There are plenty of other halls we can explore if you get bored.”

“Sounds good,” Jack said, giving Vlad a relieved smile. “Let’s do that first.”

The current seasonal art exhibit displayed a collection of paintings by Van Gogh and his contemporaries. Every last one was a replica due to the security concerns associated with Amity Park—too many ghost attacks to risk displaying the real thing. They wandered for a while until Vlad stopped before one particular painting, a snapshot of country life by Constant Troyon that depicted a group of farm workers next to a tree-ringed pond. Vlad stared into the painting for a while, taking in its details, and slowly the chatter of the museum patrons behind him fell away, replaced by birdsong and the contented clucking of chickens and distant conversation carried on the breeze…

“Find a good one?” Jack asked, snapping Vlad out of his imaginings.

“I can hear this one,” Vlad said, gesturing toward the painting with one hand.

“Uh—”

“Not literally,” Vlad said quickly. “Just look for a bit and try to imagine what this scene would sound like.”

“Hmm.” Jack stared at the painting for a while, his chin resting on one fist. “Oooh, I think I get what you’re saying,” he said finally. “It’s like it draws you in?” Jack squinted at it, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. “Are we sure this thing isn’t haunted?”

“I think it’s just doing the typical art routine. Plus, this is only a replica of the real one,” Vlad replied, a touch of genuine amusement to his smile. “Though I don’t doubt there are haunted paintings out there.”

“Yeah, maybe even ones like— What was that author again? His stuff was pretty creepy.”

“That’s a very broad category of authors, Jack.”

“Back in college, remember? That story about the painting that changed every time the guy looked at it?”

Vlad took a moment to plumb the depths of his memory, going back to those college nights when they had enough time between their studies to read to each other. “I think I remember the story you’re talking about. There was that undead creature that stole a baby, right?”

“Yeah! That’s the one,” Jack said, his enthusiasm building. “Maybe we could read that guy’s stories again.”

“But what was his name?” Vlad closed his eyes as he tried to remember. He knew the name he was searching for was a common one, but which…? “His stories had a bit of a Lovecraft feel to them, didn’t they?”

“Yeeaaah.” Jack paused, trying to recall the name as well. “Wasn’t he from before Lovecraft though?”

“Was it James?” Vlad guessed.

“Yeah!” Jack said with a grin. “I think you got it. M… M. R. James?”

“That does sound right,” Vlad said, then he grimaced as he recalled something else. “And I do recall getting some weird nightmares after reading some of those stories.”

Jack laughed. “Guess we should postpone picking those up again?”

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe it’s about the state of mind you’re in when you read them.”

“I’m kinda glad that ghosts aren’t like those stories after all. Not the ones I deal with, anyway.”

They both looked at the painting again. It was the same as when they’d looked before, and Vlad breathed an inward sigh of relief. He had enough on his plate without having a haunted painting to worry about.

They returned to wandering among the paintings until Vlad called Jack’s attention to Van Gogh’s Starry Night. “What do you think of this one?”

Jack looked self-conscious again as he turned to the painting.

“You don’t have to say anything profound,” Vlad told him. “Just think about how it makes you feel.”

Jack calmed under the assurance and let his eyes wander the painting for a while. “I mean, obviously it’s really pretty. I like that the brush strokes are really big.”

“Yes, it’s a style that Van Gogh is well known for.”

“It looks kind of like something from a dream, y’know?”

Vlad regarded the painting again. “You’re right, it does remind me of something I’ve seen in my dreams before.”

~~~

They enjoyed lunch in the museum’s food court, after which Vlad led the way to a hall that he was sure they would both enjoy.

Jack’s face lit up when he spotted the first dinosaur display, a bold triceratops posed with its head up and mouth open. “Now we’re talkin’!” he declared as he looked down the rest of the hall.

They strolled among the dinosaurs, admiring what the ancient beasts left behind and trying to imagine what their lives may have been like. As with the paintings no one wanted to risk letting the real thing get destroyed in a ghost attack, but they were casts of the original fossils and thus good enough.

“Hey, Vladdie,” Jack said as they looked over an allosaurus exhibit. “Do you think dinosaur ghosts are a thing?”

“I haven’t heard of any being found,” Vlad replied after some thought. He certainly hadn’t come across any, even in his extensive exploration of the Ghost Zone. “But the Ghost Zone is a truly vast dimension. Who’s to say that they don’t exist in some far-flung corner that rarely sees contact with more modern ghosts?”

“We should go look for them sometime!”

“Hah, maybe so,” Vlad said with a small smile. He had to admit that he’d love to see a dinosaur ghost as well, if they existed. “That would be quite an adventure, wouldn’t it?”

Accidental Marriage

Mitzi summoned them all to the sun room the following day. Vlad faced her with less trepidation than before, his usual anger toward Jack having faded to background noise since the apology. “I have decided on an optional trial for you to consider,” Mitzi declared as they gathered round. She lifted the artifact and placed it on the table before her. “If you pass this test of trust I will give you your heart back without complaint.”

“So what will it be, then?” Vlad asked, eying the artifact warily.

“Jack will take care of your heart for the next forty-eight hours. Accomplish this without incident and you will pass,” Mitzi replied. “So how about it? Do you trust him enough to give him your heart?”

Vlad broke out into a cold sweat as he considered it. The condition would guarantee an end to this whole matter in two days, but allowing Jack to watch over the artifact was...

His heart beat frantically within its glass prison.

“You don’t have to,” Jack said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I can keep doing this as long as it takes!”

“But we can’t let this whole mess burden us forever,” Vlad replied. He knew that even Jack would grow weary of having this ghost constantly disrupt his life in the name of the trials, no matter how much he liked spending time with Vlad. This was a sure way out, but the thought of literally putting his life in Jack’s hands terrified him.

“Do you need a moment to think about it?” Mitzi offered.

“I’m—” Vlad pressed his hand over his mouth as he agonized over it, thumb digging into his cheek and index finger pressing the opposite cheekbone. Jack had promised. Surely he could do this for two days, and there was no condition to keep Vlad from staying nearby for the duration. He could endure the anxiety for the next two days and then he would be free to figure out their relationship going forward, without Mitzi and her trials hovering over them. Yes, he could endure that. He’d suffered through far worse before.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Maddie said hesitantly. “Jack cares about you a lot, Vlad, but I don’t think he should be saddled with this.”

He distantly appreciated Maddie’s honesty. She knew Jack better than anyone, she was only being realistic.

But at the same time, he worried. There had been a spark of... Something, the previous day. A feeling he didn’t want to let go of. If the trials became a burden to Jack, and if that drove him away...

“Vlad, you don’t have to do this,” Jack said again.

At last Vlad lowered his hand and took a deep breath. “Do you want to do this, Jack?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

“It’s your heart, Vlad. You should decide—”

“I would like to take what you want into consideration before I make my choice,” Vlad said as he turned to him.

Jack brought a hand to his head, brow creased with worry as he considered Vlad’s question.

Vlad swayed slightly where he stood as he watched Jack. Everyone in the room was watching with him.

“I want to do it,” Jack said as he lowered his hand. “I’ll do it.”

“Very well.” Vlad turned to Mitzi. “Then I accept the terms of this trial and I look forward to getting my heart back in two days’ time.”

“Very good. Then hand it over to him and we will commence the trial.” Mitzi stood and passed the artifact to Vlad.

He stared down at his heart for a few long moments, the sight of its frantic rhythm only heightening his anxiety. Vlad turned to Jack, who looked every bit as worried as he felt. “I need you to take care of this, Jack.” It was difficult to speak, anxiety had his throat in a stranglehold. He pressed the artifact into Jack’s waiting hands. “Please don’t let me down.”

“I won’t,” Jack said, holding the artifact close to his chest. “I promise.”

“Best of luck to you both,” Mitzi said, looking very pleased with herself. “You may do as you please for the next two days.”

They left Mitzi in the sun room. Maddie stopped them as they walked through the library.

“So we do have the artifact in our possession now,” she said as she eyed it. “Maybe we could see if we can undo it ourselves—”

“No!” Jack and Vlad said in unison.

“It’s too risky,” Vlad said.

“If we mess up even a little it could kill him,” Jack added.

“Alright, you have a point,” Maddie said, a tad taken aback by how quickly the two had given their answer.

“I still can’t believe you actually gave it to him,” Danny said, staring at the artifact in shock. He looked up at Vlad. “What’s with you right now? Just, why?”

“I’m tired of this ghost’s antics and I decided to put a little faith in your father,” Vlad replied, annoyance creeping past the anxiety. “It’s just two days. We’ll be fine.”

~~~

They made it through the first day and night without issue. Vlad was always nearby throughout and only disappeared for brief stints to take care of his cats, as expected. Jack didn’t even see it as an insult to his abilities; Vlad was simply worried, as he had every right to be. He was really going the distance by trusting Jack with this after what happened twenty years ago.

And Jack, in turn, felt like he was going to lose his mind from the sheer anxiety of it all. If he messed this up Vlad could die. Even if Vlad didn’t die it would hurt him, and Jack so desperately wanted to avoid hurting him again. The artifact felt like a lead weight no matter how he carried it with him, while at once being something he assumed to be so delicate that he feared what would happen if he dropped it even a few inches onto any surface. Any time he lost sight of it for more than a few minutes he panicked, even if he was in fact holding it at the moment. In all it had been a miserable twenty-eight hours so far.

They’d made plans to watch a movie together earlier that morning. It was during preparations for heading over to Vlad’s house that Jack decided to hide the heart. Nightmare scenarios played themselves back in his head over and over, of him knocking the artifact off a table and breaking it or dropping it or some other accident, and so he decided that the best way to keep it safe would be to store it under lock and key.

Key code, anyway. Jack opened up the ghost-proof safe and carefully placed the artifact inside, then muttered the code under his breath as he punched it in—they’d be in just as much trouble if he forgot how to get back into the safe, after all.

Jack was already feeling better as he walked away from the safe. It would survive even if FentonWorks were to collapse on top of it—in fact Vlad’s heart would be the least of their worries if that were to happen. They’d only have to dig it out of the rubble and open it in that scenario.

An unfamiliar ghost slid down from the wall where it had been spying on Jack, invisible and unnoticed. It approached the safe with the numbers for the code still in its mind. Its master would be very pleased with this prize.

Vlad let Jack in as soon as he knocked on the door. “Jack,” he began when he noticed something was missing. “Where is—”

“I was worried about dropping it, so I locked it up in a ghost-proof safe,” Jack said proudly.

“Ah.” Vlad relaxed a little. “Not a bad idea, actually. Better than carrying it around.”

They took their time picking out snacks for their Back to the Future movie marathon, chatting away aimlessly about other movies they might want to watch together all the while. Vlad had an indoor theater that they could use, but instead they chose a more comfy setup in the den. There they sat sharing a couch among the dark hardwood furniture and shelves of books and antiques, a snack-laden coffee table sitting between them and the widescreen set into the wall.

The movie was well underway when a ghostly presence filled the room. They both jumped to their feet, ready for the intruder, when the ghost appeared between them and the widescreen tv.

“Greetings, Vlad,” the ghost said in a bellowing, slightly metallic voice. He was clad in a full suit of armor with a helmet that displayed its owner's blocky face across its visor, and a necklace of large multi-colored gems rested across his breastplate. “Today you will have the honor of giving me, the great Reginald, your hand in marriage!”

Jack and Vlad shared a look for a moment, then burst into laughter.

“What makes you think he’ll say yes, ghost?” Jack raised an ecto-blaster that he’d stowed away in a pocket and noted that Vlad had taken one from within his coat as well.

“Yes, what indeed? I’m not intending to marry anyone at the moment,” Vlad added.

“Such insolence,” the ghost said with a scowl. “I’ll rephrase it, then.” He lifted his deep red cloak and retrieved an object from within—the artifact, with Vlad’s heart still inside. “Give me your hand in marriage or I’ll crush your heart under foot. Is that more clear?”

Jack’s whole body went cold upon seeing the artifact. How? When had that ghost—

“Come on, now,” the ghost said with a smirk. “I don’t have all day.”

Vlad lowered his weapon and let it fall to the floor. He gave Jack a look of utter betrayal, eyes wide with fear and face pale. “I can’t believe I trusted you,” Vlad said quietly. He stared at Jack for a few more moments, then slowly walked over to the ghost and stood beside him.

“Very good. Let us be off, then.” The ghost swept his cloak around and the two, one of the gems on his necklace glowing intensely as they vanished in a swirl of scarlet energy.

The light returned to normal. The movie continued as it had been doing throughout the encounter, so thoroughly ignored that it might as well have been on mute. Jack slumped back onto the couch and let the weapon fall from his hand, his fingers numb with shock.

He’d failed. Things had been going so well, only for him to ruin their chances in the second half. Some ghost had Vlad in its clutches and who knew what horrors it had planned for him.

And the way Vlad looked at him...

Jack surged to his feet, fists clenched as he drew himself up. No, it wasn’t over until he ran away and hid like he’d done last time. He’d get Vlad back if it was the last thing he did.

Again the lighting of the room shifted as another ghost drew near. Jack swept up his gun again and prepared for a fight.

Any hope that the ghost might’ve come back for a rematch was dashed when Mitzi appeared before him. “What is going on?” she demanded. “Why has my artifact just appeared in the Ghost Zone?”

“You!” Jack snapped as he pointed his ecto-blaster at her. “You were in cahoots with that ghost, weren’t you? You were gonna hand Vlad over to him all along!”

“What ghost?” Mitzi asked as she glared down at him. “And put that thing away while I’m talking to you!”

The ermine ghost flowed from her shoulders in a flash and wrapped itself around Jack’s arms, yanking them down to keep the ecto-blaster away from Mitzi.

“Hey!” Jack struggled against the ghost, only for it to wind itself around his body and pin his arms to his sides instead.

“Now tell me what happened,” Mitzi said, a little calmer now. “What did this ghost look like?”

Jack’s ire cooled a little; Mitzi would already know what the ghost looked like if she was working with him, after all. “Big, wearing some kind of techno armor with a cloak, said his name was Reginald...”

“Oh dear.” Mitzi looked embarrassed. “Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Let’s go find your family. We’re going to need all hands on deck to deal with this and I don’t want to repeat myself.”

~~~

Vlad woke up on a dais. Reginald had done something to force him to fall asleep soon after they arrived in his lair, he had no idea how much time had passed between then and now.

The dais had been built within an elaborate ballroom with sweeping arches and tall windows that gave clear views of the swirling eddies of the Ghost Zone beyond. Red garlands and sharp white flowers like fragments of bone decorated every inch of the place, giving it an elegant but hostile feel. A crowd of ghosts milled around the room, most of them of the skeletal variety, finely dressed in black and shades of gray. They had been invited to a very special occasion.

Vlad looked down at himself and found that they’d left him in his usual suit for the occasion, either because it was already fancy enough or because he wouldn’t last long enough to merit something nicer.

He had no idea how he would make it out of this. Reginald had not let on to what he planned after marriage, but given that he held all the power in this situation it couldn’t be good. That the ghost might simply kill him immediately after the vows were said was a distinct possibility. There just wasn’t enough time to figure a way out of this...

“Welcome to the rest of your life, sleeping beauty,” Reginald said with a smirk. He stood across from Vlad on the dais and now wore a suit of gaudy gold armor with a red cloak and accents, the artifact hanging from his belt. “Enjoy it while you can.”

The rest of the proceedings passed in a blur—Vlad was oscillating between panic and being consumed by thoughts on how to escape and took no notice as the dusty lich in robes mumbled the vows they would be agreeing to.

“Well, what say you?”

Reginald’s voice snapped Vlad back to the present. He looked up, and Reginald patted the artifact at his belt once he had his attention. Would it even be worth delaying in the hopes that he’d figure something out before Reginald had the chance to dispose of him afterward? Wouldn’t it be better to die now before the wretched ghost could lay claim to everything he owned?

“Just say what’s on here, and the name of the one you would bind yourself to,” the officiator said as he passed an ancient-looking piece of paper to Vlad.

The vows were surprisingly simple. Apparently ghosts didn’t like to waste time on such things, though they had a far longer span of existence to look forward to than average humans did.

Reginald wrapped his fingers around the glass globe at the artifact’s center, his hand big enough to nearly hide the heart within. He would crush it if Vlad didn’t obey.

Naked survival instinct pushed Vlad into reading the vows aloud: “In all the vastness of the Ghost Zone there is but one I wish to bind myself to, power and soul.” Vlad shuddered a little as Reginald took his hand away from the artifact; apparently he would wait a bit before doing the deed, once the vows were said. The thought made him feel sick. “With them I will share all triumphs and failures, all joys and sorrows. Together we will face eternity. This I promise to you—”

A black-gloved hand dropped onto the artifact, attached to an arm clad in an orange hazmat suit.

“—Jack Fenton!?” Vlad stared in shock as Jack threw off the rest of his potted plant disguise and grabbed at the artifact with his other hand as well.

“That’s right, Vladdie!” Jack said with a grin, ducking under a punch from Reginald as he did so. “I’m gonna get you outta here! And I brought the whole family to help!”

An explosion went off on the far side of the room. Bits of wedding cake flew through the air, splattering onto guests and decorations, as Maddie stepped through the smoke with a Fenton Bazooka in her hands and started firing on the guards.

The guests scattered as the skeletal guards started pouring in.

Back on the dais a tug of war had broken out between Jack and Reginald. Each had both hands on the artifact and was trying to swing the other off of it.

“You might want to be a little more careful with that!” Vlad said, wincing as he watched the two swing around again. It was a wonder they hadn’t pulled it apart yet.

“Wretched oaf! Just what do you think you’re doing?” Reginald said as he tried to kick at Jack and missed. “Now I’ll have to go through a mountain of paperwork to get the next wedding set up!”

“I’m saving my best friend!” Jack declared. He blocked a kick from Reginald with his own boot and pushed him back. “We’re going home, whether you like it or not!”

“Best friend?” Reginald laughed. “That is funny. Do you have any idea who you’re trying to save?”

“Quit trying to mess with me, ghost!” Jack glared at him over the top of the artifact. “It won’t work!”

The sick feeling that had been driven away by Jack’s arrival returned. No, he wouldn’t—

“Why don’t I show you.” Reginald turned a dial near the top of the artifact with his thumb.

—a painful jolt of power surged through Vlad. The black transformation ring appeared without his bidding and split, revealing his ghost form and his secret.

Jack stared at Vlad in shock, though his grip on the artifact never wavered. “What...? Vlad?”

Vlad instinctively wanted to hide his face from Jack, for what little good that would do. The sudden wave of shame and fear mixed into a heavy feeling of nausea in the pit of his stomach. This was not how he’d wanted any reveal to go.

Reginald let out a long laugh. “Hasn’t your so-called friend attacked you before? And I recall him putting out a call for ghosts who would be willing to go after you in the past as well. Some friend he is.”

“But, why did you do it?” Jack asked, his eyes still on Vlad. Pleading, probably for some explanation that would keep his worst assumptions from being proven right.

Vlad could think of no lie that would satisfy those terms. Not in such a short amount of time, anyway. So he settled for the miserable truth. “Because I was angry, and stupid, and selfish,” Vlad replied as he looked away. “I thought getting back at you would make me feel better, but it never did.”

Reginald tried to wrench the artifact out of Jack’s hands, only to find that the man still had as firm a grip on it as ever.

“But we were having such a good time at the museum...” Jack said, the pleading look replaced by sadness. To Vlad’s surprise it made him feel even more sick to see it.

“I did have a good time with you then. Things got... A bit easier after you finally apologized,” Vlad said. He looked up at Jack again and took a deep breath. Ever since he’d started feeling better around Jack he’d known that this was likely to come up. If only it had been under lighter circumstances. “And I also need to apologize for what I’ve—”

An ecto-blast bursting over the rug at his feet interrupted any further discussion. Vlad staggered back and looked up at the source, finding Maddie on the other end with her ecto-rifle still raised and ready to fire.

“Aren’t you forgetting someone, Vlad? I always knew there was something rotten about you.” Maddie took aim, her finger closing around the trigger. “I suggest you start running.”

Anxiety turned to cold gut-wrenching fear as Vlad focused his full attention on Maddie. His ghost form might be a little stronger after the power injection, but he was still too weak to even conjure a shield, let alone try to fight her off. If she caught him he’d be done for.

Vlad darted forward, intending to duck past Jack and Reginald, only for a shot from Maddie to shatter the ornate vase ahead of him and drive him back in the opposite direction.

“What? No! You can’t kill him until he’s bound himself to me!” Reginald howled. “Guards! Protect him!” One of the gems on his necklace flared green as he gave the order.

The skeleton guards that had been pouring into the room to fight the Fentons turned and focused their attention on blocking Maddie’s shots or lunging at her once they got close.

“Maddie? Maddie, no!” Jack released the artifact and dashed over to his wife. “Maddie don’t kill him! Please!”

“Not now, Jack. I’m busy.” Maddie paused just long enough to swing Jack to the floor in a controlled throw and resumed her onslaught. “Kids, restrain your father and watch my back.”

“Wh—” He sat up, and was immediately hit and tied up by his own Jack o’ Nine Tails.

“Sorry, dad!” Jazz said, giving him an apologetic wave before activating her Fenton Peeler and shooting down a charging ghost. 

Guard after guard fell as Maddie fired, her shots always scattered around Vlad’s current location.

Vlad overturned a table for cover and darted behind it. Maddie blasted holes in it behind and ahead of him, forcing him to break cover while she paused to reload.

“Maddie! At least let him explain himself!” Jack struggled against his bonds, trying to get free, and only succeeded in falling over.

“He had sooo many chances to explain himself before now,” Maddie replied as she raised her rifle again. Rather than fire she took an ecto-grenade from her belt pouch, pulled the pin, and hurled it into the cluster of guards that were trying to get between her and the target.

Vlad was moving before the grenade had a chance to bounce a second time. It exploded directly behind him, close enough that it knocked him into a roll that left him on his back.

With a yelp he scrambled back to his feet and started running again as another shot from Maddie’s rifle knocked out the guard just behind him.

“Maddie, stop!” Jack said, wincing as Vlad dodged another shot.

“Don’t worry about it, Jack,” Maddie replied as she fired another round of shots that dropped yet more guards near Vlad. “You’ll thank me later, I promise.”

“Kids!” Jack turned to Jazz and Danny instead, who were watching Maddie’s back as she’d asked.

“Dad, it’s gonna be fine,” Danny asked as he reeled in the Jack o’ Nine Tails and prepared for another shot; both he and Jazz were dressed in hazmat suits like their parents, a sight that had made Jack proud beyond words as they were setting out on the rescue. “Vlad’s not gonna die.”

Jack tried wriggling out of the cords again and found that they were starting to loosen.

At last the stream of guards slowed, and Maddie finished off the last few as Vlad’s frantic flight brought him to the dais again.

Vlad lost his footing and hit the floor hard, the last of his energy long spent. He lifted his head to find Maddie standing over him—she’d thrown Jack to the floor yet again to give herself time to dash over. The sight was enough to make his heart feel as if it was trying to escape his ribcage.

“Any last words, Vlad?” Maddie asked as the whine of a charging ecto-rifle filled the air between them.

“I wish I’d just talked to Jack to begin with.” Vlad screwed his eyes shut and waited for the end, too tired to escape.

Reginald snatched the rifle by its barrel and lifted Maddie into the air. “Enough of this! You will stop—”

Maddie kicked off his chest, dropping the rifle and drawing an ecto-blaster instead as she vaulted through the air. Three well-placed shots shattered the gems on Reginald’s necklace before she even touched the ground.

“No!” Reginald dropped the rifle and staggered back. “How did you—”

Jack scrambled over to them, having finally gotten back to his feet, and threw himself over Vlad. “Maddie, I know you’re mad—”

Maddie straightened and breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry, Jack. I’m not going to shoot him.”

“You’re not?” Jack sat up, still clutching Vlad in both arms.

Vlad clung to Jack like a terrified cat, returning to human form as he sat up. “But you just—”

“Used you as the perfect distraction, yes,” Maddie replied with a sunny smile. “Thank you for doing such a good job, by the way. Your abject terror was very convincing.”

Jack and Vlad shared a glance—they were both blushing.

“The three of us are going to have a long talk after all this, though,” Maddie added, her eyes sharp as she glared at Vlad. 

“Yes, Maddie.” For once he wasn’t looking forward to being able to talk to her.

“I’m just glad you’re alive!” Jack blubbered, and buried his face in Vlad’s neck as he started crying in earnest.

There was no response Vlad could think to give right now, save for sheer bewilderment. Even after discovering how hostile Vlad had been to him, he still cared enough to cry over almost losing him. The blush that settled on Vlad’s face was one of embarrassment this time. Perhaps he had been taking Jack for granted, at least a little. It really was amazing, the work that a sincere apology could do.

Vlad looked up at Maddie again. “Were you planning to attack me all along? And was that really necessary? Just look at the state Jack’s in now.” His coat was going to be quite soggy after this.

“Oh that was spur of the moment,” Maddie replied. “Our original distraction got derailed, so I had to think fast. This one worked even better than the one we originally had planned.”

“Distraction for what—”

“How dare you ignore me!” Reginald hauled himself to his feet, the artifact clutched in one hand. “You’ll pay for such insolence! If I can’t have him then no one can!” He hurled the artifact to the floor. It shattered on impact, leaving a pile of fractured metal and broken glass behind.

A shot from Maddie knocked Reginald to the ground once again, his suit twitching as its electronics glitched from the damage.

Vlad let out the gasp he’d taken as Reginald threw down the artifact. He was alive, to his immense shock. Pale and shaken, to be sure, but alive. And currently having his ribs ground to dust from how tightly Jack was hugging him again.

Reginald lifted his head, the terrible grin on his face falling when he realized that Vlad was still very much alive. “How?!” Reginald cried as he stared at the remains of the artifact. “That should’ve killed you outright!”

“I returned his heart while you were all so distracted by the chase.” Mitzi stepped out from behind one of the scarlet curtains and sauntered over with a smirk on her face. “Maddie made it quite easy with her clever little play. Excellent work, darling,” she added with a nod to Maddie.

“I do admit that it was cathartic watching Vlad run for his life,” Maddie said. She turned to Vlad, her smile dropping as she added, “I might not have been trying to hit you, but I’m still very angry over what you’ve done.”

Vlad drooped a little under the force of her glare. “And we’ll talk later, I understand.”

Jack breathed out a long sigh of relief, his face still pale from watching the artifact shatter. “I guess it’s over now.”

“Yes, it seems so.” Vlad pushed at Jack, who released him. With a sigh Vlad got to his feet and straightened his coat. The blush was back, and now he couldn’t find the words for what he wanted to say. “This probably sounds meaningless after all that’s happened, but I’m sorry for the whole, sending ghosts after you and all of that. I’m honestly not sure why you’re willing to give me another chance.”

“I’m not sure you really meant it,” Jack said with a shrug as he stood.

“Huh?” Vlad stared at him. That did not compute.

“Well I mean, if you were really trying to kill me why didn’t you just hire a human hitman? I never would’ve seen that coming,” Jack said, his tone suggesting that this should’ve been obvious.

“Yes, I was wondering the same,” Maddie added. “Honestly that’s one of the reasons I didn’t just shoot you on sight for what you’ve done. Of all the things you send after Jack, it’s ghosts? It’s like you were trying to fail.”

“Well I—” Vlad had gone completely red now. The whole thing made him feel downright stupid. “I don’t know, I just never thought to use anything other than ghosts.” Had he really been holding back this whole time without realizing it? Was that why he’d failed time and again when it came to disposing of Jack? 

“And didn’t ghosts stop showing up to kill dad after he kicked your butt that one time?” Danny asked with a smirk.

“That was a fluke!” Vlad snapped, his ears burning. “I lost because I was tired!”

Jack burst out laughing. “That was a great fight! Maybe we could do it again sometime!”

“Absolutely not!” Vlad snapped. His ego couldn’t take another loss like that. Even after getting the Skeleton Key he’d still suffered momentary stabs of humiliation over having lost to Jack Fenton in a head to head fight.

“If everyone could settle down for a moment.” The officiator glided over, his feet hidden under the length of his robes—or perhaps he had no feet to speak of. “There’s still the matter of the vows.” He turned to Jack. “Do you accept this half-ghost, Jack Fenton?”

“Well yeah, of course I do! He’s my best friend!” Jack declared. He pulled Vlad into a side-hug, eying the officiator with suspicion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Then congratulations,” the officiator said, satisfied. “You’re married.” He then tossed a handful of confetti over the two and started toward the remains of the dessert table.

Everyone watched him in stunned silence as his words sank in.

“Wait, what do you mean we’re married?!” Vlad pushed away from Jack and dashed after the officiator.

“But I’m already married!” Jack said, looking worried and bewildered as he trotted after them. “This doesn’t cancel the first one out, right?”

The officiator stopped to address them, looking annoyed. “It’s a separate affair, it doesn’t interfere with any Earth marriages you might have.” He turned to Vlad. “You said the vows that opened the contract, and your partner here sealed it with his agreement.”

“And if we want to undo it—”

“Well you’ll have to complete the paperwork and the rituals to undo the binding,” the officiator replied. He squinted at them for a few moments as he thought it over. “It’s going to be difficult given that only one of you is part ghost, though.”

Vlad groaned and covered his face with one hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Vladdie! We’ll figure it out,” Jack said as he put a hand on Vlad’s shoulder. “As long as Maddie is understanding,” he added with a nervous laugh.

“You really think I’m going to acknowledge a ghost-marriage as valid?” Maddie asked as she joined them. “And on the bright side, maybe it’ll help reign in Vlad’s more...” She gave him a look. “Annoying tendencies.”

“Maddie—!”

She cut him off. “Also if anything does happen to Jack, I know exactly who I’ll be blaming first.”

“Maddie stop, we both know he wouldn’t do that!” Jack said, pulling Vlad close again.

“Or couldn’t,” Danny added. “Vlad’s kinda incompetent, let’s be real.”

“Oh shut up!” Vlad snapped, only to receive an even bigger smirk from Danny in return.

“Guess Mitzi’s plan worked out,” Jazz said with a knowing smile. “Though I’m not really sure how well getting dad and Vlad to team up will work out for the Ghost Zone...”

“Yeah yeah, keep being smug that you figured it out before anyone else,” Danny said with a roll of his eyes.

“Plan?” Vlad turned to Jazz. “What plan?”

“She wanted to get you and dad to reconnect all along so you’d stop causing trouble in the Ghost Zone,” Jazz replied. “That’s why she set up the trials the way she did.”

“That’s right,” Mitzi added as she joined them. “Even down to making the artifact and spreading rumors about it that would get your attention, and convincing you that you’d said Jack’s name while you were panicked about losing your heart.”

Vlad blushed with embarrassment yet again. It was one thing to play him for a fool, quite another to brag about it in front of an audience.

“Come now, darling, you should be happy. You finally heard what you needed to and set foot on the right path. Isn’t that worth all the hardship?”

Vlad gave her the biggest scowl he could manage, fists clenched at his sides.

“You’ll thank me one day,” Mitzi said knowingly. “For now though, I think it’s time we said goodbye.”

“Should we do anything about Reginald before we go?” Maddie asked, casting a glance at the ghost.

Vlad glowered at the ghost and pulled himself from Jack’s arms. “I think a little extra punishment is in order for him trying to force me to marry him, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, even you wouldn’t go so low as to do that,” Maddie said. Vlad was beyond tired of getting sniped like this, but perhaps he did deserve it. “Let’s show him what happens when he messes with us.”

“That might not be necessary,” Mitzi said, gesturing to a small group of ghosts who had just entered the room. They had their eyes fixed on Reginald and violent thoughts in mind given the way they glared at him. “Those ghosts were bound in service to him by that necklace. They’re quite unhappy with him, so perhaps you should leave it to them. You have more important matters to attend to anyway.”

~~~

The ride home in the Specter Speeder was quiet. At last it glided through the Fenton Portal and coasted to a stop in the lab.

“Woo! Home sweet home!” Jack said as he swung the hatch open and stepped into the lab.

“Not bad for a day trip,” Maddie added as she hopped out after him. “And as for our talk, Vlad—”

Vlad sighed. “Can it wait for now? It’s not like I can get away from you,” he said. He was still tired, despite having his full power back; the sheer stress of everything had taken its toll, and he was in no condition to be having an intense conversation at the moment. 

Maddie considered it. “Fine. We’ll put it off until tomorrow, then.”

“Glad to have you back, V-man!” Jack pulled Vlad into another hug, and Vlad let him.

“Yes, glad to be back, Jack,” Vlad said. He resisted the urge to rest his head against Jack’s shoulder. “Thank you for saving me back there. It seems I can put a bit of trust in you after all.”

Jack looked at him with surprise. “Even though—”

“Yes, even though you caused it. You actually came back and helped fix things, and for that I’m grateful,” Vlad said, giving Jack a sincere smile.

“Gross!” Danny said, completely ruining the moment—likely on purpose.

Vlad glared at him. “Get used to it, Little Badger,” he said, smirking as he draped an arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Oh, and be ready for me to make him even more embarrassing than usual. You’ve been warned.”

“Send him back,” Danny growled.

“Aw, cheer up, Danny! You have a super-powered uncle now!” Jack said with a grin. “Just think of all the fun things you could do together!”

“Let’s put a pin in that until after we’ve had our little chat,” Maddie said. “But for now let’s take it easy. Things have definitely been interesting lately.”

“Hey, we should finish watching Back to the Future!” Jack said. “That stupid ghost interrupted us earlier.”

“That he did. Sounds like a good idea to me,” Vlad replied.

“I’ll get the snacks going!” Jack declared, and he dashed up the stairs to the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t mind watching it again, so I’ll join you,” Maddie said, smiling as she followed Jack out of the lab.

“You have a lot of stuff to answer for, Vlad,” Danny said before Vlad could leave the lab. “I’m not gonna let you off easy.”

Vlad turned to him. “Yes, I will have to work on that,” he said. In truth he was dreading more than a few of those, especially the clones. Maddie just might try to kill him when she found out about that... “But for now I suppose you’ll be down an arch-nemesis. I do hope you don’t get bored.” Vlad cleared his throat. This was all so terribly embarrassing. “Sorry for... All of that. I’ll prove to you that I mean it.”

“You’d better,” Danny said, arms crossed over his chest. “Cause if mom finds out even a fraction of the stuff you’ve been doing to us, you’re dead.”

“Just think of this as extra incentive in your rehabilitation,” Jazz said with a sunny smile. “Don’t let us down.”

Vlad forced a smile. They were absolutely going to use this to blackmail him. He had no doubt. “Well then, I look forward to working with you both.” 

#Danny Phantom #Valentine's Core Exchange 2024 #Vlad Masters #Jack Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Danny Fenton #Jazz Fenton #phanfiction #Jack/Vlad #Vlad Plasmius #kuzannfic

[duckprintspress]

Meet Aether Beyond the Binary Contributor Scarlett Gale

We are sloooowly creeping up on being 2/3rds funded on the crowdfunding campaign for Aether Beyond the Binary, an anthology of 17 stories by queer authors starring non-binary main characters in aetherpunk settings! It’ll definitely be a relief when we hit that wonderful 100%. Don’t forget to share Aether Beyond the Binary with friends who you think might be interested in the project!

Head on over to our Kickstarter Campaign page NOW to learn waaaay more about this project, and read on to get to know Scarlett Gale, read an interview with her, and check out an excerpt from her contribution!

About Scarlett Gale: Scarlett Gale is the author of His Secret Illuminations and His Sacred Incantations. Long ago, under another name, she was the co-author of Needles and Artifice (Cooperative Press; 2012), featuring a rollicking romantic steampunk adventure novella and associated knitting patterns, of which she also designed several. She writes and produces fringe theatre plays based on B-movies, such as Bodacious Barbarian Babes vs. The Indigo Empress and Showgirls of Beast Island. She is a co-producer of the Alison-Bechdel-approved Bechdel Test Burlesque, which in 2017 was included in the Women and Gender Studies curriculum at the University of Oregon. She lives in Seattle with her wife where she gardens, knits, reads, and drinks warm beverages. Unsurprisingly, she also has cats.

Links: Personal Website | Tumblr | Bluesky

This is Scarlett’s second time contributing to a Duck Prints Press anthology. A short story by her was also included in our debut anthology Add Magic to Taste. Learn more about Scarlett’s other published works.

An Interview with Scarlett Gale

What motivates you to create?

Spite and love in equal measure.

What are your goals as a creator?

To make the world a kinder, hornier place one story at a time.

Are you a pantser, a planner, or a planster? What’s your process look like?

I suppose Planster is the best description, though I think that makes me sound more like someone who has a lot of plants (she says, sitting next to a glass cabinet full of houseplants). For my longer works I usually start with a vibe and a general idea of the arc and write with no real outline until I’m about two-thirds through the story, at which point I will sit down and roughly bullet point the scenes I still want to write, arrange them into story order, and use that as a reference to finish the piece. Why when I’m two-thirds through? Because at that point I’ve had enough Shower Ideas that if I don’t document them somewhere, I risk forgetting to put them in, and my Shower Ideas are the most inspired parts of my writing!

What do you consider to be your strengths as a creator?

Wordcount. Good god, wordcount. I am the rare writer who can just sit down at a computer and bang out several hundred words in twenty minutes without second-guessing myself or worrying if the words are good enough. This makes me simultaneously the best and worst person to have in your writering group.

What do you consider to be your weaknesses as a creator?

Also wordcount. I think every story I’ve submitted to the Press has started out two thousand words above the limit, which means we have to do sooooo much editing. Goodbye, my beautiful words!

Do you like having background noise when you create? What do you listen to? Does it vary depending on the project, and if so, how?

Yes! It makes writing feel less lonely, since I do a lot of it only accompanied by my cats. I listen to music at a medium to low volume that either has no lyrics, or lyrics in a language I don’t speak so I don’t get distracted by the words. I actually bought the cheapest Pandora subscription specifically for writing music. My favorite stations are:

Lofi Chill

Bonobo*

Mikel & Gamechops 

Radio Asian Kung-Fu Generation (a recent addition)

*Fun story about the group Bonobo: The morning after our wedding, my whole family crowded into our tiny house to watch us open our wedding gifts. I had given my siblings control over distributing the drink tickets, which meant that after they handed them out to the guests, they used the remaining tickets to get SPECTACULARLY plastered, and were thus deeply hungover. My wife made loads of coffee while everyone grazed on the catering leftovers, and in the interest of creating a calming atmosphere, we put on a Bonobo album. Everyone liked the music, to the point that they repeatedly asked the name of the group, which meant my wife and I kept repeating, with increasing exasperation, “BONOBO!! LIKE THE MONKEY!!!!” It is my primary memory of that morning.

What are your favorite snacks and/or drinks to consume while creating?

Remember to eat? While I’m writing?? You think I’m sensible or something?! (I enjoy a cup of tea, either green, decaf black, or herbal, depending on the time of day.)

Tell us about your pet(s).

We currently have three cats: CeeCee, Matcha, and Gyoza. CeeCee (the Lady Catherine the Purr) is our most recent addition from March of 2023. She’s a fifteen year old scrungly tiny black goblin who knows exactly what she wants out of life: Food, sippies from the bathroom sink, belly rubs, and shoulder rides. If we are not providing any of these at the speed she would prefer, she screams at us. She’s PERFECT.

Matcha is an eight-pound calico brat with the sass of at least four cats crammed into her tiny body. Her favorite things in life are causing trouble and rubbing her face on my hands when I’m trying to write.

Gyoza is a sixteen pound gray tabby with the physical properties of a water balloon full of pudding. He loves to try to “play” with Matcha, which results in her screaming like she’s being murdered. His other favorite thing to do is play in the toilet and then come step on us with his wet toilet feet, because he’s the worst.

Please enjoy this festive photo of the three of them that I had to photoshop from three individual photos, since all of them hate each other.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Always take the opportunity to use the restroom when it’s available to you. Solid life advice applicable to any situation, really!

What’s the worst advice you’ve ever received?

I had a Jimmy John’s delivery guy tell me I should lie to people and say my fire-engine-red hair was natural, does that count? (I stared him down blankly long enough that he spontaneously apologized.)

If you could give one piece of advice to a new creator who came to you for help, what would that advice be?

Just write it. You can fix the words once they’re on the page, but excessive planning and worrying and worldbuilding won’t help you if you don’t write the words. Just write it! Let it be bad! Fix it in post! Write the damn thing!!!

What’s one thing (style, genre, etc.) that you think you’ll never do, and why not?

Write the type of fantasy book that has a map in the front and a glossary of terms, only because I personally am not motivated to do that level of worldbuilding. I appreciate the people who want to do that, but I guarantee that as a reader I will skip the map and then probably the glossary in order to get to the STORY, which tells you where my priorities lie.

Scarlett’s Contribution to Aether Beyond The Binary

Title: N(ae)ghbours

Tags: attraction at first sight, bisexual, city mouse and country mouse, competence kink, didn’t know they were dating, f/nb, farmer, first kiss, genderfluid, getting together, humor, idiots to lovers, meet cute, misgendering (unintentional), omg they were neighbors, panic attacks (mentions of), present tense, self-esteem issues, third person limited pov

Excerpt:

“But you were going to tell me what you’re researching?”

Ah. Well. “This might be boring and hard to explain.”

Rin waves a fork at the breakfast spread between them. “You have at least five pancakes’ worth of time. Hit me.”

Dahlia takes a steadying sip of tea. She explains about greenhouses and other protected growing areas for delicate crops, and the advantages and disadvantages of using them on a large scale. She explains that her family has a small greenhouse for starts, but most of their land is open-air, which means they get the advantages that come with that, but also the issues—they’re at the mercy of the weather, insects, birds…

Or they would be if not for the aether tunnel.

“It’s like a hoop house,” Dahlia explains, pulling up a photo of a hoop house on her phone to show Rin. “Normally, you cover the frame with mesh, or clear bio-plastic if you’re trying to trap the heat and control the amount of water it gets, but…”

“That’d rip right off in a big storm, right? And how do you get in there when you need to do plant stuff?”

(don't forget to check out the campaign, now that you've read to the end!)

#duck prints press #aether beyond the binary #scarlett gale #aetherpunk #crowdfunding #queer crowdfunding #anthology #book crowdfunding #queer book

[fairyofthestar]

VALENTINE 11: unplanned moments

[long narration ahead !]

you let out a giggle as you watched the ig story taehyun posted minutes ago and the sound didn't go unnoticed by the man himself. "what are we giggling about?" he asked.

you lifted your gaze to meet his wide and curious eyes which was an adorable sight. you fought the urge to coo at him. you shook your head. "it's nothing. i just saw the story you posted,"

"oh," he chuckled. "well, this really isn't part of the plan."

you nodded with a smile. "i know, but you were the one who went off-course," you teased.

taehyun rolled his eyes playfully. "whatever," he murmured, a smile threatening to form on his lips.

as soon as kiki's delivery service was done, taehyun remained silent for a few minutes. then, as if there was a switch that was flipped in his brain, he started verbalizing all of his thoughts and observations with the sparkliest eyes you have ever seen.

your heart was immensely happy to see and hear how much he enjoyed your favorite movie and how he gathered similar views and reactions as you.

it turns out, you didn't need to help him much in making his essay. he only made an outline of his work so far, but he already noted all of the important scenes and lessons taken from the movie. he would ask for your insights and note them down as well and you were also able to remind him of details he forgot about.

when he finished, he thanked you while you sheepishly told him that it wasn't a lot compared to what he wrote on his own. taehyun reassured you that you contributed a lot to his work and would tell the professor so you could also get credit one way or another (to which you declined, but taehyun has always been stubborn).

to your surprise, taehyun suggested watching another ghibli movie and you practically lit up in excitement. you decided on making him watch spirited away, the most famous ghibli movie in existence. taehyun said he's already seen this movie (to which you let out a big sigh of relief), but said he was too young to remember the majority of it.

so, that was how you ended up watching another movie with a blanket covering the both of you. the scene was so domestic and you were trying so hard not to think about it, or else you would end up being a blushing mess again.

more than halfway through the movie, you could feel yourself slowly succumb to the inviting hands of sleep. you tried to fight the desire to close your eyes and shut off the entire world, but you didn't want to fall asleep on taehyun. you felt like it would be rude of you to, and you just didn't want to waste a single second with him.

unfortunately, it was hard to fight the inevitable. it was a bit late in the night and there was something about knowing that someone else was in your company while watching a comforting movie that made you fall asleep earlier than usual.

when taehyun looked over at you and saw you sleeping soundly, two thoughts ran through his mind.

'she looks cute asleep. her neck might get strained from sleeping like that.'

without any hesitation, taehyun scooted closer to you and gently guided your head towards his shoulder. he fixed the blanket so it would cover you more and he lowered the volume of the TV.

admittedly, this new position made taehyun's heart beat faster than usual. this was new territory for him and he didn't know why this was the first thing he thought of doing instead of waking you up or letting you lay down on the couch. he was a bit flustered at his decision, but didn't think it was the wrong one. he would gladly do it again if given the chance.

taehyun continued watching the movie with you unknowingly laying on his shoulder. he soon realized that staying in such a position for a long time was uncomfortable, but he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. he endured the discomfort until the movie was finished.

while the credits rolled in, he contemplated on how he was going to wake you up. he settled on lightly shaking you. "y/n, wake up. the movie's finished," he quietly said. after a few more shakes, you were pulled away from your dream and back to reality. the first thing you saw was the credits playing in front of you, then you felt your head laying on something.

"you looked like you were already in deep sleep so i didn't wake you and just finished it myself. i'm sure you've already watched this a million times now," taehyun chuckled softly.

taehyun's voice sounded too near, as if he was only centimeters away from you. you were still a bit dazed from your sleep, so nothing was processing completely in your head. it was only a few minutes after when you realized why his voice sounded so close to you.

your heart picked up at the realization that you were laying on his shoulder. did you do it while you were asleep? did he find you annoying because of it? well, he didn't push you away so maybe that's not the case… but what if he just let you lay on his shoulder out of pity? your mind was whirling with questions and it was all too much for your groggy state. instead of asking them all, you remained in your position, too afraid to sit up straight and face him.

taehyun thought that you were still trying to wake up from you slumber, so he continued speaking without expecting an answer. "i hope it was okay for me to move closer and place your head on my shoulder. the way you were sleeping looked uncomfortable and i couldn't just sit there and let you hurt your neck,"

you flushed at that. so this new position was because of him and his gentlemanly tendencies. you wondered how a guy as dreamy as taehyun could ever exist. it was as if he was taken straight out of a ghibli movie.

"thank you. 'm sorry for falling asleep on you," you murmured, finally finding your voice again.

"it's okay. you can make it up to me next time,"

your breath hitched. "there's gonna be a next time?" you asked and taehyun could hear the smile in your voice. he also smiled to himself.

he hummed in agreement. "i like watching movies with you,"

'and i like you,' you thought to yourself as your heart fluttered even more. it was as if everything taehyun tells you goes straight to your heart. it was all becoming too much that you might explode at any moment.

"huh?" you heard taehyun say, confused.

"what do you mean 'huh'?"

"you just said that you liked me,"

you felt like a bucket of ice cold water was poured all over you. you flinched away from him and created space between you again. you looked at him, shocked and flustered. there was no way you accidentally blurted that out loud.

the butterflies in your stomach started turning into moths and you felt your veins thrumming with panic instead of happiness. this was not part of the plan; certainly not how the night was supposed to end.

you weren't ready for him to find out about your feelings and you couldn't believe that you were stupid enough to say that tonight.

"y/n? what did you mean by that?" you were too busy thinking of a way to save yourself from your mistake to notice that there was a hint of hope in taehyun's voice that even he himself didn't realize.

after a few more seconds of silence, you finally spoke up.

"w-what i meant to say was that i like you a-as a friend! yes… as a friend. you're a good friend, taehyun," you stammered, giving him a smile that you hoped didn't look strained.

taehyun blinked at you. "oh. okay," he said and—were you still sleepy or did he sound… disappointed? you gulped. maybe you were just imagining things.

you two sat in silence for a while until taehyun suddenly shook his head as if he shook out every thought in it. he gave you a small smile. "i should get going now and let you sleep more,"

you slumped in your seat, afraid that you might have made the night turn awkward. you've never hated yourself more than now. you wanted to apologize, but then the conversation would circle back to it since taehyun isn't aware of why you felt the need to say sorry. besides, it seems like both of you wanted to avoid the topic now.

you nodded and bit your lip. "next time?" hope was evident in your voice, your palms sweating as you waited for his response.

taehyun nodded with a charming smile. "next time."

you internally sighed in relief and was finally able to show him a genuine smile after the whole ordeal. taehyun started cleaning up and so did you, a comfortable silence enveloping the room.

soon, you and taehyun were standing near your front door.

"i had fun today. thanks again for helping me with my essay and for watching those movies with me," taehyun said.

"i barely watched the second movie," you laughed and he also let out a chuckle. "you're welcome. get home safe, okay?"

taehyun nodded. "sleep well and have good dreams tonight," there was that charming smile of his again. sometimes it felt like taehyun was purposefully out to give you a heart attack.

you nodded and opened the door for him. taehyun walked through the door until he paused, turning around to face you again. you thought he might have forgotten something with the way his face looked conflicted.

you were about to ask until he took a step closer to you, his hand gently lifting. he paused the motion, like he was hesitant of his action, then continued moving, sure of himself. you felt his hand on your head and he gently started patting it.

"good night, y/n."

your heart was about to jump out of your chest. you were sure it was already tired from going through many highs tonight, but it was hard to control yourself when taehyun was acting the way he was without any explanation. he definitely wants to give you a heart attack.

"good night, taehyun," you reciprocated, breathier than you intended. yet, another smile appeared on his perfectly sculpted face and he pulled his hand away, leaving your apartment without another word.

how could you go back to sleep now?

masterlist / previous / next

SYNOPSIS — with her long-term crush on taehyun, y/n finally musters up the courage to try and make the school president fall for her and be his date for the valentine's dance. the only problem was that taehyun was never fond of the whole concept of valentine's day nor the annual valentine's dance. will y/n succeed or will this be another year of watching taehyun from afar?

☆ taglist: @nyangjjunie @ifwtyun @peachy-yabbay @soobpricity @mystiicturtle @ttaekkb0kk1 @allisocks @igotkpoops @hotboyyeonjun @strawbrinkofdeath @shuichi-sama @silvsie @uwubel @fairyoftaehyun @deobijjang @kyanmeai @kikaiceee @starlitskies0 @pr0dbeomgyu @wccycc @dearhee @ameliesaysshoo @foryawnzzn @ioszzn @sulkii @xtra-cheese @ashxxkook @luvsoobs @soobsfairy444 @sunlightwoo @thisisnotjacinta @feline4txt @pb-n-juju @darrensos @sansluvr @soobsdoobs @seeuuns @bibinnieposts @notdrunkbutdazed @yeonyeonyeonjun @milkycloudtyg @mizukiisz @leyss @peachbly @soobsdior @jaxavance @aeminju @a-noona-mous @szxiany @oceanyocean @calumsfringe @esther-kpopstan @ktttwwn @lunaavity

☆ if you want to be in my taglist, please tell me in my asks !!

☆ requests are open !!

#valentine #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt social au #txt social media au #txt smau #txt socmed au #taehyun scenarios #taehyun imagines #taehyun x reader #taehyun fluff #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #huening kai scenarios #huening kai imagines #huening kai x reader

[invested-in-your-future]

You mentioned not liking the idea of Blake having parents in general, I would love to hear your thoughts on how Blake’s family should have been handled! And the rest of team RWBY too if you have any more ideas for them! Personally I think Jacque should’ve had a noticeably different color pallet than the “Schnee” colors.

For me, personally, the way Blake is written just does not mesh with her family or her backstory that MilesWBY adds to it.

It either reflects really badly on Blake or on her parents OR both. And to such a degree that I don't think you can really fix.

All the times Blake actually managed to chastise Weiss? It's suddenly reframed as hypocrisy. All her talk about focus on survival? Pointless because she grew up in an equivalent of tropical island castle. Blake suddenly becomes "some dumb teenager who threw a fit at her parents and ran away to join a terrorist cell a continent away". Why does that happen and why are her parents like "oh geee well, what can you do maybe after few years she will come back randomly due to tragedy and we can just act like nothing"?

Intentionally or not, Blake becomes just like the right wing strawman about how "all the people who campaign for equality and justice actually just have been living life of privilege and thus shouldn't".

Everything in terms of how Ghira is written though? Boondocks epitomizes well on how I feel about it:

So yeah... I'd just throw entirety of Menagerie portrayal away because yeaaaah...the show does enough weird decisions in regards to faunus portrayal in it's first three volumes already.

Menagerie is getting completely redone. Most of faunus population just have conflicting hearsay about what the place is actually like (since there's no communication tower of its own, Menagerie solely relies on Mistral relays) and Blake never actually really even had a chance to go to Menagerie ever. In my draft, Menagerie is many things - a propaganda topic, a historical event, a reminder of hardship, but its not an "escape" and its not a tropical resort. A lot of Faunus have NEVER been there and at the same time officials in Mistral government REALLY want to ship everyone off to there.

In my outline right now, Blake was born in Mistral. Due to specific circumstances and experiences, she ended up joining the White Fang and then slowly over time grew disillusioned. Her views on Vale overall are influenced by her experiences growing up. Blake did not have the easiest childhood - life wasn't exactly fair and in part her love of books comes from an aspect of escapism that books can deliver. She is someone who formed her ideals her head in a book, but facing the cruel and dangerous reality around her makes her feel like merely "wanting to do good" means absolutely nothing without a more practical "how". However, she doesn't like any of the "hows" presented by people around her because it makes her feel like she can't ever live up to her own expectations she set for herself. And thus she runs. Again and again. And while enrolling at Beacon worked as a wish-fulfillment/escapism of sorts too (she gets to be a Huntress and help people!), her experiences here still gnaw at her conviction and ideals. In my set-up of Remnant, Vale is considered to be "less" dangerous for Faunus, but even here she can't really escape sights of inequality and discrimination, as well as reminders that she has absolutely no idea how to make her dream come true and if it's even possible. What does Fall of Beacon and her experiences there mean for her? She left everything and tried to live an entire new life for herself and it only made her go back to the start all over again. What does that feeling like she is stuck in a cyclical routine that always ends without her taking a single step forward mean for her?

As for Weiss, honestly I think it's fine to use Blue as Jacques color. Given, I also don't think its that fair to separate the Schnees and Jacques as much - he is a parasite but does he really not represent SDC? Weiss might have her own thoughts on what SDC "was/could be" and her own idealized vision on what came before her father married into the family, but there's no such thing as "benevolent/good corporation". Corporations are always profit driven and I don't think its fair to write off everything bad as "Jacques was that one bad apple". In reality though - Jacques is the worst because he really does epitomize everything wrong and bad about SDC and corporations and rich people overall. He is a very "efficient" at being a "rich person". Jacques is everything like that taken to the ultimate extreme end. How many years has he run SDC now? SDC is what SDC is and it makes sense that Schnee name is associated with his actions now and thus his color. Also I don't quite think blue was ever truly SDC color before. He introduced that element of aesthetic. Before that Schnee name was associated with white like snow, but now Schnees are blue like ice. Different levels of coldness and different implications and metaphors.

Even if one were to carry over the idea of Weiss looking up to her grandfather as a hero, I don't think its fair to completely whitewash her grandpa either - he merely was "better than Jacques", but Schnees are still Old Money rich family with a legacy and history and whatever her grandfather's views were, he was still basically a nobility at the head of a well-oiled machine that has extreme influence over Atlas (and before that Mantle).

I think its pretty important that Weiss SHOULD re-evaluate her overall views and which parts of her worldview are merely based on wishful thinking or ignorance. What should "being a Schnee" mean for her? Should she define herself by her family history(good or bad) or should she rebuild herself from scratch? She spent quite some time away from Atlas and those experiences in Vale, meeting Ruby, Blake, etc, her viewpoints and thinking being challenged by others, should absolutely make an impact on how she sees Atlas. The way I see it, her return to Atlas at the end of V3, SHOULD make her see everything in a new light. Not just as an abuse victim, but also as someone who is forced to take a look inside and re-evaluate her experiences and memories. It's not JUST about Jacques, its about getting to re-experience her "routine of usual" but with new experiences making her view things differently.

So yeah overall Blake and Weiss both would have to have very different journeys from the ones MilesWBY present. In a way its pretty interesting parallel, because its the case of two characters from very different backgrounds and with very different experiences (beyond both having suffered abuse) having to essentially reinvent themselves (and to find themselves again) after a tragedy.

#rwby #rwde #rwby au #blake belladonna #weiss schnee #rwby stuff mine

[ettawritesnstudies]

Thank You

If you’ll permit me a minute to be cliche: this photo would not have been possible without you. When I started university in August 2019, the sum of all my author-y potential measured up to:

No finished manuscripts

A pipe dream of ever publishing my work

A scatterbrained outline of The Laoche Chronicles

Forty-four phone notes full of half-witted ideas

A grand total of 3 followers on my brand-new tumblr account

At the time, I had no grand plans of marketing my work, though I knew it would be necessary if I ever wanted an audience. I chose a degree in chemical engineering because I knew my baby platform and half finished stories weren’t going to cut it as a career in their current state as an 18-year-old, and I needed to have a day job if I wanted to pursue my end dream of self publishing. I was just hoping to survive my first year of engineering school, pass my weed-out classes, and hopefully make some new friends. That fall semester passed with sporadic progress on my book, and halfhearted attempts at breaking into the writeblr community, until I decided to try my hand at Inktober and made my first few acquaintances: @siarven and @abalonetea, who have both featured on this blog since then. It was also at this point, sometime during a Calculus III lecture, that I invented my pen name:

All was going well, and I was pleased with my incremental progress until the world ended.

The less said about the pandemic, the better. Writeblr truly kept me sane through working full-time jobs and taking 18 credit hours during the semester. When I was truly close to dropping out of school, I kept going, knowing I had these online friends to cheer me up after brutal exams and long nights of studying. The tag games and community filled the dearth of interaction left by quarantine and an insane schedule. During my summer internship in 2020, I finally had the time to finish the first draft of Storge and the confidence in myself to start a website. Rereading my first post is a surreal experience, in part because I still see myself as a little kid as hiding under the blankets with a flashlight, notebook, and pen, thinking “I wanna write a book!”

I woke up the next day crying to the sheer volume of kind messages congratulating me on meeting this milestone. Instead of feeling burnt out after reaching such a lofty goal, this gave me all the more energy to keep working. Since then, I’ve been so blessed to grow this community and this website. It’s incredible to see how far I’ve come, now being able to claim:

A finished manuscript of Storge

A 3rd draft of Runaways after going through 2 rounds of Beta Readers

8 short stories and an audio drama

An active mailing list

Over 1000 followers on tumblr, but more importantly, a thriving community of writers who support each other’s releases through ARCs, leaving reviews, enthusiastic questions, and a welcoming space for new writers to share their craft.

140 posts on my website and regular readers who care about my ramblings ❤

Now I’m on my way to my new job – I’ll be doing research and development in my chosen field with a team I really like, and the freedom to listen to books while I’m in the lab. This next month will still be a hiatus for blog posts and new writing as I pack up my life for a cross-states move, but I’m beyond excited to enter change. My hope is that I can start saving for editing costs and devote more time to my craft thanks to a 9-5 schedule and NO!!! HOMEWORK!!!!!!!!! Really, I cannot say enough how thrilled I am to never have to take another exam ever again, thank GOD. With a bit of luck and no small amount of grace, I hope I can publish and share my stories with you sooner rather than later.

Thank you for all the support and camaraderie these past years. In a way, I owe this diploma to you as much as to my classmates and professors. The night before graduation, I said to my friends, “I’ve been waiting for tomorrow for eight years.” Now I’m living in the future, and I can’t wait to write the next chapter.

#etta rambles #graduation