#in general i don't know anything about the original series but i don't... think this was a good adaptation visually | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sundrop-writes · 28 days

Text

Careful - Chapter Four

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Four: Last Hope

It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.

Summary:

The entire axis of your world is shifting.

Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.

Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.

Word Count: 8,800

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.

A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you.

It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time.

You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life.

This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night.

You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you.

He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him.

So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.)

You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s.

You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on.

You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past.

(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.)

You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’.

You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy.

“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters.

“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said.

(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.)

“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.”

Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you.

“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked.

You wanted to fixate on the ‘if’ - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’.

Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at.

“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.”

That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture.

“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head.

He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates.

He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now.

“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.”

In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth.

“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye.

Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief.

“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.”

“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about.

“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.”

“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids.

“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-”

“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?”

“One nightmare! It was only one!”

The subject of children was forgotten, then.

Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation.

Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?

…

Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment.

After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty.

But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to.

You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done.

Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles.

Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle.

Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son.

His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast.

Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV.

“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it.

“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him.

Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right.

He crouched down to the boy’s level.

“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps.

He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh.

Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission.

You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one.

“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer.

“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.”

Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up.

“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”

Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this.

Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction.

“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return.

(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.)

Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind.

“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly.

He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time.

“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness.

“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this.

“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied.

‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’

The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench.

He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from.

Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face.

“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.”

Spencer smiled at this.

Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player.

This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer.

“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.”

“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”

Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments.

But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears.

Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him.

The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life.

Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother.

There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun.

He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture.

And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile.

Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker.

He liked Star Wars.

“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out.

He knew that he was crying very blatantly now.

His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.

Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room.

“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?”

“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.”

You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed.

“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door.

That gutted him even more. Spence.

Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost.

“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears.

Your throat tightened up.

This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible.

But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with.

He cared so much.

This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son.

And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child.

“Spencer, please-”

Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear.

There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him.

Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective.

“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with.

You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught.

“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation.

You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again.

It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case.

“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone.

“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?”

That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized.

“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant.

“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?”

The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow-

The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him.

“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.”

“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.”

Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him.

“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-”

“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened.

Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself.

“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.”

Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ.

“Reid, hey.”

She sounded worried.

Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone.

Before he could ask, she spoke up again.

“We… were just wondering if we should call you.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once.

Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself.

“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.”

“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.”

“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.”

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked.

“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand.

“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud.

“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.”

“Fire away.” Prentiss replied.

“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her.

“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell.

“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant.

“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.”

“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.”

“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud.

“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized.

“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.”

“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?”

“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.”

“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.”

Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’”

“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?”

“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?”

He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child.

Just then, Emily came back into the room.

“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced.

“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered.

“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.”

“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call.

Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom.

It truly hit him, then.

This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man.

A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV.

“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?”

Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness.

“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation.

(So this was a habit of his?)

“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him.

Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?”

“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked.

“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied.

He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him.

But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together.

Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner.

“Hey, Spence.” You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up.

“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to.

He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch.

Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said.

“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.”

“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-”

“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.”

“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV.

“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-”

“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken.

The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day.

Spencer took a breath, trying to focus.

“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-”

“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife.

Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm.

“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?”

“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds.

You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot.

You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed.

There it was.

The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him.

It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely.

You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself.

If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you.

When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot.

You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date.

How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him?

“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?”

You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension.

Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant.

When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere.

…

Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family.

With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice.

Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut.

It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger.

Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be.

You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it.

You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door.

You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself.

“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?”

You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly.

“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice.

“Here, go with your-”

You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’.

“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.”

“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,”

He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now.

You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step.

It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again.

You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table.

“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice.

“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself.

You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter.

Your insides quaked when you saw what it was.

Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well.

“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for.

“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him.

“I did!” He said proudly, nodding.

“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him.

“Okay!” He cheered brightly.

He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there.

(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.)

“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.”

You stared down at the items in horror.

It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window.

One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker.

‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed.

He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug.

Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea.

You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you.

“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face.

“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say.

“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?”

It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you.

You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now.

If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you.

Oh, how things change.

…

Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug.

But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station.

You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number.

“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?”

“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.”

“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.”

“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?”

“Hold on.”

There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch.

“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“What is it?” Spencer prodded.

“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.”

Spencer didn’t like where this was going.

“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him.

“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-”

“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed.

“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly.

“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.”

Then, something else occurred to Spencer.

“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.”

He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted.

This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer.

Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win.

“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.”

Spencer hated that it was their only choice.

“Okay.”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Five - Brick By Boring Brick

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

884 notes · View notes

koinotame · 4 months

Text

your (househusband) roommate, ajax

word count: 1.5K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, childe gets called your house husband but you’re not actually married, generally gross stuff (he sniffs your used shirt), it's implied of childe scares away someone else

a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! i lost the original post w/ the basic idea but essentially this is a side au of sagau/self aware genshin where the characters (in this case childe) find their way into your world, but in the process you lose all memories about genshin. i'll be reposting all of the series, but it's also on ao3! part two is here!

when you first learned who your roommate would be, you were exasperated. you’d heard about him before, and you were well aware that he's amassed a reputation of being a trouble maker. you had no interest in getting into trouble, especially not during your first year.

...so you were pretty pleasantly surprised when he turned out to be a total sweetheart.

you’re reminded of that when you enter the kitchen, rubbing at your eyes and yawning. the smell of pancakes wafts through the air, and you can’t even get out a small 'good morning' before ajax is grinning at you and sliding you some pancakes. "don’t wait for me and eat up, okay? I put plenty of love into them, so they should taste great."

you ignore his banter (insisting on waiting for him is a lost battle, you’ve learned) and take a bite. you don’t finish chewing before you sleepily nod.

he laughs good-naturedly. "I’m glad, I’m glad. do you want more?" another drowsy nod has him piling most of the remaining pancakes onto your plate.

he continues chatting with you while you eat and he finishes the batch, though he does most of the talking. as usual, he doesn’t seem to mind your silence too much. once he’s done, he turns the fire off and props his elbow on the counter to stare at you. you don't pay him any mind.

he slides the platter to you the second you peek at it. after having eaten well over two servings you’re not really interested in more though, so you shake your head. "I'm full. aren’t you going to eat any?"

he beams. "aww, were you thinking about me? don’t worry, I already ate." you’re almost certain he didn’t. avoiding the judgemental look that crosses your eyes at his response, he laughs in a way that’d be awkward if it was anyone else. "I’ll put the rest in a tupper then, okay? have them whenever."

he’s taking your plate and putting it in the sink before you can even stand to move it to the dishwasher. you sigh and stick out your tongue at him when he turns to you. "you know you really don’t have to go out of your way do all of this."

he smiles at you. "why not? I enjoy cooking, and you can be my taste-tester." the amounts he feeds you go well beyond that, and he's avoiding the rest of your question, but okay. you should've gotten the message—that it's futile to ask him this kind of question—by now.

while you you face plant into the couch to avoid thinking about anything else, ajax stays in the kitchen, cleaning up and humming some lullaby as he washes the pan and plates. it’s too early to think on this saturday morning. the cushion feels nice and soft against your cheek and you can’t help but burrow yourself further into the pillows.

wait.

you lift your head up, peeking your head out behind the back of the couch.

"the apron is cute."

he nearly drops the pan.

it’s not often that you bring over friends, so ajax insists on cleaning beforehand and serving your group snacks much like a mother hen would throughout their stay.

their two, maybe three if you're pushing it, hour stay. all you’re going to is chat, it’s not like they’re going to be staying overnight or anything.

you sigh but let him do what he wants.

some cookies are laid out by the time they arrive, and he’s hovering around pretty much indefinitely to serve tea or juice.

it’s cute, in a way, but your friends’ teasing is not.

"you know, he’s kind of like your house husband, isn’t he?" your friend comments, leaning over and biting into a powdery cookie.

you try to ignore the way ajax beams. you try to ignore the way he cheers to himself even harder.

"not really..." your weak attempts at rebutting their words make your friends laugh.

the rest of the session goes by normally; you talk about the kinds of things you’d regularly talk about with friends. someone in your group recently received a promotion, and somebody else got fired. somebody gained a boyfriend, another realised she didn’t have the time or energy for relationships not too long ago.

the longer the conversation goes on, the more the chatter becomes background noise as the you retreat to your own world. the drink in your hands gets lukewarm long before you finish it despite your frequent sipping.

when they finally leave, you feel more relieved than you should.

you see them off with a smile, but your head is pounding by the time you sit back down and your ears can finally rest. now that you’re (mostly, ajax is always just kind of there) alone, you can finally have some peace and quiet and relax.

or that’s what you think until ajax leans over the couch, head hovering above yours. "now that they’re gone… would you prefer dinner, a bath, or me?"

you stare at him. he doesn’t move, clearly eager for your answer. eventually, you sigh and gently push his face away. "dinner would be nice."

he laughs, something warm and domestic dancing in his cold eyes. "of course! it’ll be ready soon."

he presses a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving.

you whine, but the space he touched feels tingly even against your own hand.

"ajax."

he drops your wallet, not even attempting to take back the couple hundred bills peeking out. his response is nonchalant, even at his supposed surprise at having been caught by you. "ahh, I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon. look at what I found!"

you stare. at him. at what he’s holding. at your wallet on the floor.

you’re certain you did not have that many hundred bills. you’re going to cry if you find him trying to stuff his money into your wallet again.

"you mentioned liking this, right? I was out earlier and I thought I could get it for you. you know, as a sign of goodwill and all, for being such a great roommate."

a couple months ago, you would have been perplexed. he insists on doing all of the chores and most of the cooking, and he pays most of the bills. is the 'great roommate' status because you’re quiet and don’t host loud parties, or…? you don’t question it anymore at this point.

"ajax."

a couple months ago, he might’ve gotten unnerved by your silence. instead, he pushes it into your hands, a wide grin on face, ruffles your hair and saunters out.

you have yet to find his wallet. despite that, all the cash (and then some) that you’d left on his bedside table or bed has always managed to find a way back to your wallet, so there would probably be little point anyway.

"ah, that reminds me!" he peeks back into your room a couple minutes later. "what would you like for dinner?" the nerve of him to ask this right after he calls you a great roommate…

"maybe some soup?" you say instead.

he smiles, bows, and takes his leave. the apron you called cute a few weeks ago is already fixed onto him.

you sigh, sliding the bills in properly.

wait a second. is that a credit card…?

you were expecting many things when you finally caught him, but him sniffing only your shirt—out of all your available laundry—wasn’t one of them.

"…what are you doing?"

you have never seen him jerk his head as quickly, nor have you ever seen him so red. or speechless.

you both stand there in silence for a few seconds before he blinks rapidly and his breathing becomes ragged. "it’s not—I—it’s not what you think, I swear—"

"okay, whatever." you wave him off. somehow, this doesn’t alarm you as much as it should. "I don’t care what you were doing, don’t do it again."

he nods quickly, considerably less composed than he usually is, and shoves your shirt back into the basket briskly. "also… can you stop leaving your stuff in my wardrobe. I know you know the difference."

"ah, that was…" he’s clearly at a loss for words, not sure how to justify himself after having been caught committing not only one transgression, but two.

you set the clothes of his you were bringing to him down, tempted to just throw them at him.

you swallow your nerves, almost nervously meeting his eyes. "look, I don’t really care, but can you at least leave me stuff like your jacket or sweater? your shirts aren’t really my style."

his breathing hitches again but he gives no response otherwise, so you shake your head and turn to leave. the laundromat room is thankfully empty save for the two of you, something you’re glad for.

as you pass through the door, it occurs to you that the guy who’d been smoking in here hasn’t shown up in a while. now that you think about it, that was the reason ajax had offered to take over laundry duty too...

oh well, it’s of no concern to you, you think to yourself as you make the journey back to your room.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #self aware au #self aware genshin #childe #tartaglia #repost #i think that's all the tags i used last time #HOW DID THE EDITOR GET WORSE IN MY ABSENCE...

584 notes · View notes

cipheramnesia · 2 months

Text

This is the process my brain goes through every time I see anything about Netflix Avatar The Last Airbender.

My first reaction is always: Why? The original, although not without flaws, doesn't leave a lot of room to improve. A good remake or adaptation usually involves an updated context or change in perspective that adds to the original work and gives it new meaning. It's a risky undertaking because it usually involves wanting to take on something established as iconic and make it your own. But Netflix is a corporation and seems very risk averse for the most part. Its only investment is in the name recognition of AtLA. It's hard to visualize Netflix deliberately taking a big risk on an expensive show.

My second reaction is: How? The original series is about 1400 minutes over 61 episodes, and it still had to rush the ending. We're looking at 8 episodes of roughly 45-60 minutes per episode for season 1, which would require Netflix to let it run more than 3 seasons, if the series has similar pacing. Historically however Netflix shows have glacial pacing, and rarely make three seasons. Not really sure how they plan to tell the story if the series is anything like the average Netflix series, meaning it either needs to undercut the story or let the series breathe for at least five seasons. But nothing Netflix has done makes me want to watch anything they make as an ongoing series? Why bother, they cancel everything I enjoy. So I wonder how. What's the hook to say "this will be able to provide something new and interesting compared to the original, and will be allowed to tell the complete story."

Which leads me to think, but you can't judge if something is good without seeing it. Except none of this is about whether it's good, I just find myself wondering what are the odds it's worth the effort? They're low, and it has nothing to do with whether or not it's even any good on its own merits.

Following this, I ask myself, what would a good version of this be. Imagine you are making a live action series with eight hour long episodes per season based on a children's cartoon with 20 thirty minute episodes per season. You are trying to encompass a story which was presented over three seasons as a cartoon, and you do not know if you will have more than those eight episodes. It's made for Netflix which, in terms of a company which will protect the hard earned fruits of your artistic labor, is the fox guarding the henhouse. What do you do?

If you are looking to make something good, that respects your audience investment and your own work, you make radical changes to the story. You change the pacing, the character arcs, the plot arcs. You make sure you deliver a complete story in those episodes with as much respect for the original work and as many new ideas as you can.

Except, at that point, what is even the point of a remake. The only way to work with it is either to trust Netflix allowing you to finish the story (which you'd need to be incredibly naive to do), or tell a story so different it may as well be wholly original. And that's where I always end up. Like, it'll probably be fine, but what's the point of it all? Another vanishing digital property to get canceled because of some undefinable failure to return on investment.

I think about it a lot because the two ends of the spectrum seem to be "dunk on every new piece of information" or "wait and see" but the only conclusion I can ever reach is "why even care?" That's been the lesson to take home from digital streaming in general when it comes to series, but Netflix in particular, and honestly for movie series too. If it can't be self contained, the companies who produce and release these kinds of series just cannot be trusted with it, and there are too many good original stories being put out to care anymore about big budget promises that one day they will definitely for sure deliver a finished story, this time for real.

I care enough to think about why I don't feel anything at all about Netflix Avatar. It'll be fine, whatever else. Just fine.

#netflix avatar

337 notes · View notes

neil-gaiman · 1 year

Note

Mr. Gaiman, I was wondering something. I would never accuse Sir Terry Pratchett of even unintentional plagiarism, perhaps down more to my perception of the man than anything concrete, but I was trying to figure out if there was perhaps a common source that may have inspired two works.

There was an episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine that bore some very generalized similarities to the plot of Night Watch, in that a man is thrown back in time to a few days before an extremely important historical riot and ends up replacing one of the key figures in said riot, who died ignominiously beforehand. I have not finished the novel but some people who heard me point out the general similarities have remarked that there are further parallels. Perhaps there are, perhaps there aren't.

I was wondering whether you knew anything about the writing of Night Watch that might shed some light on this. Its publication postdates the premier of the episode by a few years but obviously I have no idea whether its composition did.

I don't have any reason to believe that you would know, other than having known Sir Terry, but I thought I'd ask. Best wishes!

Terry and I used to talk about what he was watching on TV all the time. If you'd found a relationship between an episode of Red Dwarf and a Terry book, I think that we could conclude that Terry had borrowed the idea. I don't ever remember him talking about any Star Treks other than the original series. But that doesn't mean anything. It's quite possible that Terry caught that DS9 episode or part of it and went "But they've missed the point! That's not the interesting bit!" and went off to write his own version. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time that Terry took his irritation with a piece of popular fiction and used it as the grain of sand in the oyster to build a pearl around.

Remember, though, Person Goes Back In Time and Finds That They Are Mistaken For Someone They Think Is Important is very much a standard trope in SF. I think the first time I encountered it was Michael Moorcock's Behold the Man. What's important about Night Watch is that Vimes is becoming the person who inspired Vimes, and that we get to see how the events of the Glorious 25th of May shaped the people we have known as adult, finished versions of themselves into those people.

As a general rule though, it's wisest to read the whole book before diving off after questions about the plot, otherwise you might look a bit silly if the book goes somewhere else.

2K notes · View notes

yumeka-sxf · 6 days

Text

Thoughts on Spy x Family CODE: White

My thoughts on CODE: White will likely be different from most people since I knew pretty much the entire plot beforehand. I'm a spoiler fiend when it comes to my hyperfixations like SxF, so I read the novelization of the movie back in January and kept up on all the promotional videos and images that were released. But when it was finally time to see the movie for myself, did that ruin my enjoyment? Not at all. For me, it actually made me enjoy it more because 1) I knew what to expect so I wasn't disappointed, and 2) I found myself looking forward to seeing all the scenes I only read about or saw short clips of.

With that said, yes, I enjoyed the movie so much! If you're a Spy x Family fan, or even just a casual enjoyer of the series, it's a ton of fun. It has all the elements we love about the series: clever humor, sweet family moments, and spy action/drama. And because it's a movie, we get to see all of this with a movie animation budget instead of a TV series budget, which is another plus!

One thing to keep in mind with these original, stand-alone anime films based on series is that they're meant for a more general crowd than just fans of the series. Since theaters attract a wider audience than late-night TV and online manga chapters, movies like this serve as a means to introduce the series to people who may only have a vague idea of what it's about. That's why these movies contain a storyline that can fit mostly anywhere in the series chronology and don't have anything canon-altering.

CODE: White is an interesting mix of plots that, for the most part, blend together well. There's the main plot that continues throughout, which is saving Operation Strix by having Anya learn how to make the meremere for the cooking contest, but then there's the Yor jealousy plot B which is resolved in the first half, but is then replaced by the next "plot B" in the latter half of the movie, which is saving Anya from the military.

A lot of people didn't like the "Yor gets jealous" subplot when it was first revealed before the movie even came out, since it seemed to be a rehash of her being jealous about Fiona. I personally didn't have a problem with this since I don't think it's unreasonable for her to get jealous a second time, especially when she thinks she sees Loid doing something extreme like kissing another woman (as opposed to just talking). But the way it was resolved could have been a bit better in my opinion. The ferris wheel scene in the movie very much mirrored the bar scene from the series, but the reason the latter is so effective is because we get to hear Loid's inner thoughts during it; we know he's going full Twilight-mode and isn't being sincere, and that's why Yor kicks him. But then at the park, he talks to her much more genuinely and they work things out. But in the ferris wheel scene, we don't get to hear his inner thoughts so we don't get any indication as to whether his repeating of the marriage vows, etc, is him being sincere or not. Then she smacks him, they insist they aren't fighting when Anya brings it up, and that's the end of it.

I do like the fact that Anya reads their minds and seems happy with what she "hears" in their heads, but I still think the subplot would have felt more complete if it ended after Yor realized her mistake rather than have Loid do the ambiguous Romeo act again. Or it could have been brought up one more time later in the movie, for example, Yor apologizes for hitting him, he talks to her more sincerely, etc. If you're gonna rehash the bar scene, at least rehash the scene that brought it closure, which is the park bench scene. Again, I'm totally fine with the jealously subplot overall, just thought it could have been wrapped up a bit better.

Other than that, there were just a few little issues I had, like how was Anya able to afford what was probably an expensive liquor? (was she really packing that much dough in her little bag? She went straight from the bedroom out the window so it's not like she "borrowed" any money from Loid). Also seemed weird that she didn't pick up on Yor's infidelity worries until last minute. A few things stretched the line of believability a bit far too, like Loid's ability to make perfect masks so quickly, and Anya just happening to hit her head on the button that conveniently opened all the windows on the bridge. Also something here and there that didn't align with the manga, like Yor not having any reaction to sharing a room with Loid, whereas she has a totally different reaction to this in chapter 94. Maybe a bit more resolution for the fates of the villains too. I guess Luca and Dmitri survived the crash, but what about Snidel? Did Loid actually kill him or just knock him out? And if it's the latter, Snidel seems like the type who would want to get revenge. A quick cameo of what happened to them in the end would have been nice.

Speaking of the villains, normally I wouldn't like the fact that they're pretty one-dimensional and not that interesting, but for a movie like this where most people just want to see the Forgers being themselves in fun and exciting scenarios, taking time away from that to make more developed villains who likely won't be seen again in the franchise, would have not been the best choice, lol.

But even though I had some criticisms of the movie, all of them are minor and not enough to overshadow everything else that was enjoyable about it. Besides all the humor, of which there was plenty, there were so many cute "awww" family moments that perhaps didn't lend anything to the plot, but were still important to establish the characters and their relationships, and thus make us care about what happens to them. Like the scene of Anya, Yor, and Bond playing at the hotel...it could have been skipped without anything seeming out of place, but it reveals so much about the characters without being blatant about it: how Yor wants to please Anya despite being a bit embarrassed at first to take part in her game, and then how Anya's eyes light up with happiness when Yor starts playing with her...for a series like SxF that's character-driven rather than plot-driven, scenes like this are so important and I'm glad the film creators realized this too!

There were also so many cute, subtle scenes as well, like when Loid and Yor smile at each other after chiding Anya, as if they're happy to share this moment of exhausting yet satisfying parenting; when Anya reads Loid's mind after he saves her but doesn't reveal what he's actually thinking yet we can imagine what it is based on her expression; Loid showing feelings of comradery with the restaurant owner because their pasts are so similar; Anya quietly and sadly hugging Bond in the bedroom; and in the ferris wheel after Yor feels so embarrassed about misunderstanding what happened with Loid and the woman but then can't help but smile with motherly love when she sees Anya waving at her...the movie is filled with moments like this that are like little love letters to fans who know the true heart of SxF isn't so much the action and spy drama as it is the family relationships.

And of course, as I mentioned before, the animation of the movie is fantastic! Not just the action scenes, which are great by the way, especially Yor's fight with Type F, but the character expressions as well. Anya's always had the most varied and hilarious faces of all the characters, but the movie goes even harder with her expressions, especially when she has to hold in her stool! Her faces were making me both cringe and laugh at the same time! The animators did such a good job making me feel sorry for her but also laugh at her.

I'm not a fan of potty humor, but I was confident SxF would make it funny, and I was right! The poop god sequence in particular was as equally cringe as it was hilarious!

To conclude, CODE: White is a must-see for anyone who likes or loves Spy x Family. I can't say it's a cinematic masterpiece or anything, but for what it's supposed to be - a fun and enjoyable film for those who like the series, it definitely delivers! Can't wait to see it at least two more times during its showing in the US...and more times in the future!

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #sxf code white #spy x family code white #sxf movie spoilers #sxf movie #sxf spoilers #sxf manga spoilers

174 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 9 months

Text

nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader

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

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

▷ word count. 28.7k help TT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: yes or no

tree rat: no

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.

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

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

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

EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.

three months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The notification… the tweet…

Oh no.

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

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

"How bad?" He asked.

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

"I'm—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dude," he said out loud to himself.

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

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

A guy could dream though, right?

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

Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunwoo?”

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

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

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

“Get scared easy?” You offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"

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

Changmin snickered. "Chicken."

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

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

A guy could dream, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha

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

"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.

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

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

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

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

“But!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he a dance major?”

rhapsody anon: he is

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

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

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

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

Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.

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

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

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

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

“Even you?”

rhapsody anonymous: esp me

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

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

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

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

“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”

“Uh-huh.”

“For sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my gosh, Yn?”

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

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

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

Wonder what that was all about…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a true story,” he insisted.

“Oh, I believe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What'd you say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU

eric 🤨: no.

EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING

“SO her name is DJ Dove?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hiding that you know it’s her.”

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Civility is overrated!"

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

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

You. Oh my god, you were here.

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

"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"

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

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

Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.

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

Pretty…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!

"IT'S not a date!"

"It's a date!"

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

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

"Hey!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you know the lyrics?"

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

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

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

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

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

A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

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

"Ah." You could empathize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed. "Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOU had been keeping a secret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This might sound weird—"

"Uh-huh."

"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"

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

“No, not really.”

“What’s a podcast?”

You huffed. “Sunwoo—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sat up. “What do you—”

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

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

“You’re not an idiot.”

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

“Superstar?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(He should not have spoken so soon.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sunwoo, I can't—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

han !!: okay bye chicken

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

han !!: 🐓🐓🐓

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

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

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

"That's actually so incorrect—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think so, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still?"

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

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

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

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

Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

Coffee. You liked coffee, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"—wait, Yangyang—"

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.

Oh.

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

Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.

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

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

It rang twice. "Yo."

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

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

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

"I'm coming over."

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

EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo looked up.

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

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

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

— ✶

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

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

It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made him feel strange again.

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

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

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

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

Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

Sunwoo was in trouble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.

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

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

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

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

His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Normal, as in back to before?"

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

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

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

Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."

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

"I'll take that as a compliment."

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

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

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

"Crazy good or…?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No more mixed signals?"

"No more mixed signals," he agreed.

— ✶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks," you said sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it clicked.

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

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

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

"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.

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

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

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

He sulked and didn't say anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shut up!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— ✶

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

You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @hibernatinghamster @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @kflixnet

665 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 1 month

Text

cold nights // part twenty-seven

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: omg we're coming up on the end i could cry :') i finished writing everything and i feel like a shell of a person rn without this fic to plan and write, but i hope you guys are excited! there will be five more parts after this and then the epilogue, which brings me to some really exciting news!!

big news #1: i'm opening oneshot requests for this series!! my normal requests will remain closed but i'd love to see what you guys want for the more of this series! (link is here!)

big news #2: the end of this story is opening the doors to my third coryo series which I've been working on for a hot minute, and it'll be called requiem! (see the original request for it here to get the vibes before i post anything!)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

The protests caught you off guard, more than anything.

It had only been two weeks since you started your classes and you were loving them, but you hated getting dropped off in the morning and picked up in the afternoon. You and Coryo could no longer eat lunch outside, and the previously full lecture halls you had occupied saw more and more students dropping out as people stood outside just to shout at you as you came and went from the school four days a week. To call you an animal, that you don't belong there, that you should be "put down" for crimes against the Capitol. What they were? You had no idea.

Suffice to say, parents were not happy that you were there.

Generally, Coryo said that people had loved you in the games. You were "harmless", and "sweet", you gave them someone to root for- but now that you were walking freely among them instead of being kept behind the bars at the zoo or trapped inside the arena awaiting your death, you were suddenly a threat.

"They... they think I'll hurt someone?" You sniff, watery eyes overflowing as you look at Coryo lying beside you in his bed.

He bites his tongue, nodding as he wipes away your tears with the hand he has resting just under your cheek on top of his pillow. "They're afraid. That's all, it's not because of anything you did."

"I won't." You cry. "I would never, you know that, right?"

"I know, love. I know that." He promises you quietly.

"I don't want people to be afraid of me. It's not fair to them... If they feel unsafe I should just drop out."

"You're not doing that." He insists with a slight shake of his head. "We'll figure it out. Okay? Don't worry about them."

You just nod softly, wiping your eyes as he pushes his arm under your neck. "C'mere." He mumbles rolling onto his back and you move closer, laying your head on his chest as he pulls you closer to his side.

Coryo did figure it out, for the most part, which is how you ended up standing in Capitol TV's studios, awaiting an interview with Lucky Flickerman, someone you definitely thought you would never see again after the games. You didn't know how Coryo did it, who he had to talk to in order to convince them to let you plead your case so publicly. Apparently, the Snow name came with more power than you knew.

"You're gonna do great, love." Coryo whispers to you. "Just be yourself, but remember what I said about your essay, right? Be honest, but think about how you word things. I know you can do it." He assures you quietly, hands resting on your shoulders.

You nod, giving him a hopeful smile. "Thank you."

"I'll be right here, I'm not going anywhere." These types of reassurances were becoming less and less necessary over the month you've been here, but still, you don't like it when he's far, and he doesn't like it when he doesn't know where you are. It worked nicely for you both.

"Miss Y/L/N, whenever you're ready." One of the crew directs you, pointing to the comfortable chair they had set up in front of a homey-looking backdrop. It was fake, but it was meant to look like you were in someone's house. The idea of it was confusing to you, but you supposed it was also unimportant. You had much bigger concerns.

"Thank you." You smile at them and give Coryo another quick nod before making your way over to the seat that they said was yours.

Coryo watches as you carefully brush your hands over the front of your dress, smoothing it as you sit down. You looked so elegant as you did it, if he didn't know better, it looked like the habits of the people you were now surrounded with were rubbing off on you quickly. He had watched you rehearse how you would carry yourself and how you would speak and act with Tigris just this morning, after she fit you into the dress she had made for the occasion. Clearly, you had been paying attention.

When you draw your hair from your back and over your shoulder so your meticulously styled curls wouldn't be crushed against the chair, Coryo thinks he might need to sit down. Especially so when you look back at him again, subtly waving at him with your hand from where they are placed in your lap. The dress Tigris had given to you was red- a deep red silky material that complimented the red of his coat and mimicked the shade of the Capitol's flag but still had you standing out on your own. Seeing the way that dress fit you and hugged your form in all the right ways even as you were sitting, he was sure he had never been more grateful to his cousin and her talents.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you again." Lucky smiles at you as he sits down across from you, adjusting the small device attached to his lapel as crew members come up to you and fasten the same thing to the front and back of your dress.

"You as well." You grin, trying the best you can to mask your nervousness.

"Are you ready? Do you need anything?" He asks and you shake your head.

"I am ready whenever you are." You confirm, looking around as some more lights flick on, bright in your eyes as the man behind the camera starts counting down.

You look over at Coryo one last time and he nods at you. It was just like your first interview all over again- you had to sell yourself to the people. To prove that you were worth trusting.

"My name is Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman," You smile as he flips a coin up into the air. You've seen him do it before, but you still weren't sure how the trick worked. "Amateur magician and your host for everything interesting on Capitol TV, and today is certainly no exception. Today, I have a familiar face with me who I know you will all recognize as well, the Victor of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games, Miss Y/N Y/L/N." He looks over at you and you keep your eyes on him, certain that all cameras are watching you now.

"Y/N, I am so happy to have you back. How have you been?" Lucky asks you and you're already fighting off the need to fidget with your hands.

"I am very well." You smile at him. "How about yourself? It has been a while."

"I'm great, thank you! You know, I was not allowed to bet on the games, but anyone who was there can tell you that I predicted your win from the beginning. You certainly are something else."

"Oh, well thank you." You giggle. "Though, I can't fully be credited for my win. I have to thank the sponsors who allowed Coriolanus to send me food and water. That made all the difference in my game."

"Oh, most definitely." He agrees. "But you shouldn't deny your own role in that. Hiding in the vents, that was genius!" Lucky claps. "Truly, that was a jaw-dropping moment for all of us watching. I remember thinking 'wow, how did she think of that?' It was incredible!"

"Yes, well, I saw the grate and knew it was worth a try." You shrug, slightly laughing. "I had nothing to lose."

"Yes, well, I'm dying to know- what have you been up to the last few months? You went back to Twelve, and then what?"

"Oh! Yes, I did. I've been spending time with friends and family, I got a job at the local library, catching up on some reading, that sort of thing." You grin, glancing at Coryo for only a moment and he gestures for you to continue. "I got home and I really realized for the first time how much we should be appreciating everything we have- even out in the Districts where sometimes life is tough, it's key to remember how privileged we are to be alive. The games were truly eye-opening for me."

Coryo gives you a quick nod of approval, and you smile, training your view back on the man across from you.

"Yes, I agree. Live life to the fullest, that's what they say." You just nod at his response. "Which also begs the question, if you were happy back in Twelve, what brought you back to the Capitol?"

Let the lies begin.

"Well," You laugh nervously. "When I was given the opportunity to come here for the games back in July, I was so interested in everything. The people who I got to talk to, the things I got to see, it was all amazing and I was just dying for more."

"So you decided to come study at the university here, is what I've heard."

"Yes, exactly." You grin. "I just think that the Capitol has so much to offer as far as education goes, I am already learning so much and I am having so much fun doing it."

"So really, your focus is just on your education." He prompts you and you nod.

"Definitely, considering the course load I don't have time for much else, but that doesn't really bother me. Like I said, I just want to learn from the greatest minds in the nation. Even the other students, it's amazing! Everyone has earned their spot there and I can see why and all the work they have put in to be there. It's a privilege to study among them, and I am so grateful that I was given this chance."

"You say 'all the work that they put in to be there', but you didn't attend the academy, so how is it that you were admitted?"

"I filled out the same application that all the other students did, I went through all the same testing." You confirm, nodding at him. "Although," You laugh slightly. "I was only given one day to complete it all. I was locked away in my room working on it all night. I hardly had time to blink, it was tough."

"Wow!" Lucky laughs. "One day? I remember when I applied to the university, my application took months to get just right. You must have aced it all."

"I am very proud of the work I did to be admitted, yes." You smile.

"From what I hear, you should be." He agrees. "So, you're really not in it for the sake of making friends."

"Well, I certainly would love to, but it is not my priority." You nod. "But, if any of my classmates are watching, I promise I am good at proofreading and if you need a second set of eyes on your papers, I'm happy to help. I'd also love to have more people to discuss our readings with." You joke, looking into the camera for the first time.

Lucky laughs. "You've heard it here, everyone. Y/N's pitch to make some friends!"

"Yes, I suppose it was." You chuckle, smiling at him.

"Now on the topic of friends while we're getting to know you better," You tilt your head at him while he begins the question, unsure where it is going. "Back home, do you have a boyfriend? Surely he must be missing you."

"No, not at home..." You laugh, catching in the corner of your eye as Coryo shakes his head at you, his face flat of emotion. "I don't have a boyfriend. Again, that's really just not where my priorities lie at the moment. I've... I've had a very busy year, you could say." You explain hesitantly.

"Wow! A beautiful girl like you?" You laugh nervously at his response. "Capitol boys! She's smart, pretty, and single. Just saying." He says, raising his hands.

You knew his job today was to help you, to make you more likable and more normal, to humanize you, but it was still uncomfortable to hear. "Oh, please." You laugh nervously, waving a hand at him. "Like I said, I'm just here to learn. I'm not after anyone's son."

"No? Not even all the handsome boys in your classes? I'm sure there are at least a few." He teases you and your cheeks flush red.

"I wouldn't know, I'm watching the lectures." You shrug jokingly.

Coryo is trying not to lose his mind while you talk about how single you are. Not that you were much of a willing participant, and to be fair he did tell you not to indicate to them that the two of you were together. You technically weren't, if he was being totally fair, but just because it hadn't been said doesn't mean it isn't real. He knew you knew that, though. So why was he getting so mad?

He doesn't even realize how little attention he was paying after that until you're standing up and shaking Lucky's hand. It was over, you'd done everything you could have to ease the minds of scared and angry Capitol parents.

Lucky gives you a quick hug, wishing you good luck in your classes before you're allowed to rejoin Coryo. "Ready to go?" He asks and you nod.

"How did I do?" You ask as you walk out of the studio and into the hall, aiming for the elevator to take you back to ground level.

"Amazing, love. You were perfect." Coryo confirms, still noticeably tense as he walks next to you.

"Are you sure?" You ask as he presses the button to call the car up to your level, unsure since he still hasn't really looked at you.

The door opens and you both step in. "Yes." He tells you again, quickly tapping the door close button.

"Oh, good. I was really nervous..." You laugh slightly as the doors slide shut, and as soon as any light from the hall ceases to enter the elevator his hands are on you and his lips are pressed against yours.

You let out the slightest squeak out of shock, but quickly relax as Coryo rubs familiar small circles on your hips with his thumbs. How he could be so gentle as he backs you into the wall of the elevator you don't know, but you're grateful for it as you hum into his mouth. But still, something was different.

Spending so much time with you only made him want you more. He loved you, he knew that, and someplace deep in the corners of his mind, he had always wanted you in a way he never thought possible when he first fell for you before the games. Now, with you curled up under his sheets almost every night, seeing you step out of the bathroom with damp hair after a shower in pyjamas that don't fit you quite right, he thought about it more than ever. Thoughts of you plagued him more than usual, and the best way to describe the accompanying feeling was guilt. Guilt that he couldn't show you off given the circumstances- at least not yet.

He trails his kisses away from your lips and across your jaw, pulling you tighter against him. "You're so beautiful, my love..." He mumbles into the skin just below your ear, leaving a kiss in his wake that has your head spinning.

You giggle, eyes fluttering open. "What has gotten into you?" You ask, hands sliding up over his chest to rest on his shoulders.

"I can't tell my girlfriend that I think she's gorgeous?" He asks, shaking his head slightly as he looks down into your eyes.

"Oh, so I am your girlfriend." You giggle and he nods, kissing you again.

"Of course you are, and don't forget it." He chuckles, pulling back from you as the elevator stops moving, waiting for the doors to open.

Your skin is flushed down to your chest as the doors slide apart and even though he's not touching you anymore, you can feel the ghost of his hands on you. You look up at him, a lingering smirk still on his face as he looks straight ahead and leads you out of the car.

The phone rang at the time you were eating dinner, and you quickly asked if you could be excused to go answer it. Coryo and Tigris both just nodded at you, but you could still feel their grandmother's eyes burning into your back as you quickly walked away. She still wasn't fond of you, but she tolerated you. For now, that was just enough.

You grab the phone off the receiver as the small round screen flickers to life. "Hello?" You answer, hopeful that it would finally be your family you see on the other side.

You had answered every call that came to the Snow's apartment for weeks, waiting anxiously to hear their voices again.

"Y/N, is that you, honey?"

You gasp with excitement when you get a clear enough view of your ma. "Ma! Hi!" You smile, leaning in a little closer to get a more clear view as the camera on their end begins to adjust. This was likely the first time it was being used.

"Oh, honey, how good it is to see you!" She smiles, and out of nowhere, you feel hot tears welling up in your eyes.

"You too, Ma." You nod, biting into your lower lip. You didn't want to cry so quickly into the call. "How are you? How's everything at home?"

"Same old." She shakes her head with a slight laugh. "I'm much more interested in you- how is everything? How is school? And how is Tybalt settling in? How are you settling in? My goodness, I just have so many questions!"

You laugh, quickly wiping a stray tear. You had told them about all of this in letters, of course, but she just wanted to hear you say it all. "Everything is good. School has been so lovely, Coryo walks me to all my classes and we eat lunch together between. And Tybalt just loves it here! They have a garden on the roof, and I take him up there as often as I can. Tigris won't stop giving him treats either so he couldn't be happier."

You look down at the animal as he brushes against your leg, looking up at you.

"That's amazing. I've been so worried, it's just so good to see your face again. God, we've been missin' you..."

"I miss you too." You agree, careful not to choke on your tears. "How is Len? And have you seen Lucy Gray and the Covey?"

"He's... He's doing alright." Your mother looks off-screen, and you assume he must be there. The look on her face, one of nervousness and hesitation tells you he doesn't want to speak to you. "But Lucy Gray has been around every day, she and Maude Ivory come over and they help me with hanging the laundry and such... It's been good to have them around."

You smile sadly, nodding slightly with the receiver pressed to your ear. You felt bad about that aspect of leaving- you spent as much time as you could before the games helping out around the house, but even in the summer when you came back you weren't much help. Your mother wouldn't let you do dishes all summer, for fear that the sight of a knife might set you off. She knew you came back a different person, and she wasn't taking any risks. All she really allowed you to do was hang laundry and "keep her company" while she did other home chores. But now, she didn't even have that.

"Can I speak to him?" You ask, referring to your brother who you knew was there.

She nods, waving off camera and holding her hand over the wrong part of the phone. "Lennox, come over here. Y/N wants to talk to you."

His response is muffled, but you make out the gist of it. 'I don't want to talk to her'.

"She's your sister, Lennox. You can't ignore her forever."

'If she wants to talk, she should come home.'

Your heart clenches in your chest and you chew your lip. You have to pretend you couldn't hear, but you just felt so horribly guilty. You shouldn't have left, but he doesn't understand you had no choice. He wouldn't be able to understand until you could come home and see him again, likely not until the summer. Coryo had told you to be mindful of what you write in letters and what you say on the phone, it's possible others were listening. The Capitol was always listening.

"He's just a little busy right now, honey." She smiles at you, but you can see right through it. "But tell me about your day! Did you have class?"

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie, @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses, @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

162 notes · View notes

pumpkinhimiko · 3 months

Text

"Mistranslations" that are not mistranslations

Now with an additional part 2.

NISA has made plenty of mistakes while translating the Danganronpa series (and I've complained about them before), and so they have a reputation of being untrustworthy. But because of this reputation, I feel like fans are too quick to trust whatever anyone that isn't NISA states as absolute fact. So, I want to examine some instances of fan translators claiming NISA has mistranslated something, when, no, actually, they didn't.

Kokichi's last words

人にやらされるゲームなんて…楽しい訳あるかよ… A game you're forced to play... how could that be fun...

This is probably the most widespread myth in terms of "mistranslations that aren't", with the original post that makes this claim having over 2k notes: that Kokichi in the original Japanese actually says, "How could a game where you're forced to kill people be fun...?" Unfortunately, it's just not true. Fortunately for me, there's a reddit post here that breaks the line down in detail, so I don't have to do any work.

Anyway, I really wanted to make this post because of this thread, which makes several false claims.

Kokichi says he's afraid of friends in general

オレは、そういう『仲間』が他人よりも怖いけどねー。I'm more afraid of those kinds of [friends] than strangers.

So... souiu, meaning that type of/that kind of is right there, directly before nakama (which can mean friend, especially if it's in a shounen anime, but can also just mean companion/member of a group). I don't understand how you can miss this. Not only is it right there, this claim on its face doesn't make sense. Why, in this context, would Kokichi suddenly blurt out that he's afraid of having friends? It has nothing to do with the conversation they're having.

Shuichi's words to Kokichi after the 4th trial

王馬くん、もういいだろ ? Ouma-kun, isn't this enough? その話を聞かせてくれよ。Tell us about that.

Okay, you've probably heard the phrase mou ii a lot if you watch anime, and it's almost always accompanied by a frustrated huff. Because it is, in fact, something you say when impatient, fed up, what have you. It literally means "good already", carrying pretty much the identical meaning of the English phrase, "that's enough" or "I've had enough". Shuichi does not say it's okay as in it's daijoubu, which is the word you use when trying to comfort someone. He is very much frustrated here and telling Kokichi to fess up.

Citation needed

I couldn't find a line like this in Kokichi's FTEs, but maaaaaaaybe I missed it? Shuichi's narration comments quite a few times on Kokichi acting childishly throughout the game, but I couldn't find anything like this in specific.

EDIT: Correction, I did find it, and it's covered in part two. Suffice to say, the OP got this line completely wrong.

That Kaito thing

Yeah this is patently false. It's also already been touched on in this thread with comments backing it up, so there’s another thing I don't have to get into. I'll put the text here though.

オレはテメーみて一に胸クソ悪い真似までして、If I have to mimic your sickening behavior, 生き残りて一とは思わねーんだよ。I don't think I want to survive.

Shuichi's words to Kokichi after the 4th trial part deaux

I've seen varying claims on how these lines were translated, from them being slightly tweaked, to the claim they were completely butchered to make Saihara too aggressive. I'm just going to leave it here and let you come to your own conclusions.

ダサいのはキミの方だよ…王馬くん。The lame one is you... Ouma-kun.

百田くんの周りにはいつも人が集まってくる… Momota-kun always has people around him... でも、キミの周りには誰もいないじゃないか。But, there's no one around you.

キミは…その程度のヤツって事だよ。That's... what kind of person you are.

This is snappy in its own way, though, if you consider that 程度 is closer to meaning grade/level/degree rather than simply "type of". "That's the level of person you are," basically.

And if you doubt me on any of this, I encourage you to do your own research, get second opinions if you can. I know not everyone knows Japanese, in which case you can't really help but rely on someone else and hope their translation is accurate. That said, at the bare minimum, I think people should provide screenshots and the original Japanese text if they're going to claim something is a mistranslation. Like, I don't think you should be able to say "actually in Japanese Kokichi says he volunteers at animal shelters in his free time but NISA cut it!" and have half the fandom believe you with no proof.

#new danganronpa killing harmony #danganronpa v3 #new danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #danganronpa #kokichi ouma #ouma kokichi #shuichi saihara #saihara shuichi #kaito momota #momota kaito #meta #doretalks #translation bs #i take it back #about 90% of that thread is inaccurate

274 notes · View notes

its-all-stardust · 5 months

Text

Sugar || 1

Masterlist || Part Two

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

Author's note: hello and welcome to the most unoriginal title ever. this was originally intended to be a oneshot, but just as I was about to finish what ended up being this first part, I realized that would be impossible (unless I wanted an insanely long oneshot, which i did not). to be honest, i don't have a real plan for this series. i don't expect it to be very long, and there may be some Marc/Reader in the future, but for now, this is just about our boy Steven.

Series note: Set before the events of the Moon Knight series. I haven't decided yet if this is going to be following canon in regards to the powers/Avatar aspect but I'll let you know whenever I decide. Steven is still an alter, Marc still has DID, and assume Marc and Jake are around and know what Steven is getting up to.

It’s not like you were looking for someone when you visited the museum that day. Typically, when you do look for a new baby, you go through the regular channels. Word of mouth, the specific sites—the free ones and the paid ones. You’ve never just seen someone out in the world and thought Them.

It just wasn’t something that was done. It wasn’t something that you do. There’s no way to vet someone you met in person, and you don’t conveniently have all their personal details laid out in a neat format sent directly to you with the results of their background check.

You always thought picking someone you met randomly was a bad idea despite the fact that you haven’t exactly heard horror stories from others in these circles. You suppose it comes to the arrangement being based on trust. And you don’t exactly trust most people.

That is until you laid eyes on Steven, the slightly mousy yet also impertinent gift shop clerk.

You walked into the gift shop looking for a bottle of water. You had spent the last couple of hours wandering the Ancient Egyptian exhibit and needed a break before walking through the rest of the exhibits on display. You don’t know when you’ll next make it to the National Art Gallery, so you figured you’d make a day of it since you didn’t have any meetings to attend or calls to make.

You aren’t exactly impressed with the man when you first walk in. In an attempt to help another customer, he bumped into one of the displays and knocked down some of the figurines, smashing them on the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” he says, falling to his knees to start cleaning up his mess while the woman he was speaking to takes her child by the arm and steps away. But then he seems to change his mind and stands again. Looking over the display, he grabs one of the surviving figurines. “Here, this one’s perfectly fine.”

“That’s okay. I think he changed his mind,” the woman says, gesturing to her son. She then quickly leaves the shop without buying anything.

The man sighs, his shoulders dropping as he sets the figurine down and mutters himself. He then walks away from the mess on the floor to the back room.

When he’s out of sight, you step up to the display. Broken pieces of several figurines depicting a bird of some sort stare up at you helplessly.

You pick up one that appears intact, examining it. Although you just came from the Ancient Egyptian exhibit, you can’t tell which god the white plaster bird is meant to be. To you, it’s simply a bird of prey; its sharp beak and talons give it away, but it lacks any particular godly features.

Finding no fault other than that it’s a rather generic figurine, you set it back on the display with the other surviving merchandise. You’re about to pick up another from the floor, hoping to make the clerk’s job a little easier, when a voice stops you.

“Oh, no, you don’t need to do that.” It’s the clerk, having returned with a broom and dustpan in hand without you noticing.

“Thought you could use a hand, is all,” you say, smiling at him as you step away from the pile of broken figurines.

The man stares at you for a moment, frozen, giving you time to study him.

Curly hair falling over his forehead, large, dark eyes, clean-shaven, and baggy clothes that don’t quite fit him properly.

Your eyes catch his name tag.

Steven.

All of a sudden, the man—Steven seems to flinch. You see a slight flush to his cheeks before he tilts his head down, hiding his face from view.

“Sorry,” he says as he starts to sweep up bits of several birds, though you’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. “Let me just clean this up, and I’ll be right with you.”

“Thank you,” you say as you wander away to look at the other souvenirs on display. You keep glancing at Steven, though, finding your interest piqued by him.

“Make a mess again, Stevie?” a woman calls as she walks into the shop.

“You know that’s not my name, Donna,” he says as the woman walks past him into the back room. He follows, though he doesn’t look happy about it.

Steven comes back quickly, now missing the broom and dustpan, and when he spots you, the tension drains out of him, if only slightly.

“Sorry about that. Do you need help with anything?” He steps close to you, though still far enough away to maintain a respectful distance.

You just need your water, and you’ll be back out in the museum in no time. With your tight schedule, you shouldn’t waste a minute if you want to actually enjoy all the exhibits. But something in you, something about Steven, makes you stay.

“Actually, I wanted to ask,” you start as you lead Steven back to the display of figurines. “Who is this even supposed to be? It doesn’t look like one of the gods.” You point to the birds he knocked down.

“Horus, if you can believe it.” He scoffs as if personally offended. “Honestly, I wouldn’t look for anything in this shop to be all that accurate,” he whispers conspiratorially.

“The gift shop in a popular museum can’t even be bothered to pay for accuracy?” you ask, even though you’re not surprised. The best way for businesses to make quick profit is to sell cheap products for far more than they’re worth.

Steven steps closer, keeping his voice low, not wanting to be overheard.

“My manager, Donna.” He gestures toward the backroom with a jerk of his head. “She’s in charge of ordering everything. When I saw she had picked out these, I tried telling her how inaccurate they were, that nobody would know who it was and have no reason to buy them. All she said was, ‘Nobody’s going to care, Stevie.’” He raises the pitch of his voice, a mocking impression of the woman in the other room.

“But you care.” It’s easy to see how much he does. Not everyone would get so worked up over an overpriced souvenir at a museum gift shop.

“Of course I do!” Steven says emphatically. “It’s why I work here. Well, not here here. Can’t say the gift shop is my favorite, but the museum—” He suddenly stops, cutting himself off as he stares at you.

You would think you’ve done something wrong, except all you’ve done is smile at him, the expression still on your face even now. Then you notice Steven is flushed again, and you can’t help but be pleased at the sight.

“Sorry, I’m just talking your ear off. You should have stopped me,” Steven says with an awkward laugh.

“I don’t mind listening to you speak.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Usually, you’re in better control of yourself, your words. You have to be.

Thankfully, Steven doesn’t find your honesty off-putting as some others have. He laughs again, this time with disbelief and a smile playing on his lips.

“You’re just saying that,” he says.

“You’re getting paid to sell things, Stevie, not to stand around flapping your lips,” Donna says as she walks out of the backroom, a box of merchandise in her arms to restock one of the shelves lining the walls.

“But I am getting paid to be nice to the customers, yeah?” Steven replies. Donna only rolls her eyes, a look he copies when she turns in the other direction.

You like seeing that he isn’t cowed by his frankly rude manager, even if he can’t exactly square up to her, not without likely risking his job.

What’s he like outside the gift shop when he doesn’t have to hold back? When he can say what he wants without being afraid of offending someone?

You push the thought away. You shouldn’t be thinking like that. Thoughts along those lines should be reserved for people you’ve properly vetted.

“Sorry about her. She’s…” Steven whispers, trailing off when he can’t find anything charitable to say.

“A bitch?” you supply. You don’t have to worry about offending Donna.

“Keep your voice down!” he half-heartedly scolds, placing a hand on your arm as he tries to suppress a grin. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I’d rather not get caught, thank you.”

You’re about to say something else when Steven’s face falls, horror replacing the glee. He quickly snatches his hand away, stepping back as he realizes how close he is to you.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He gestures to your arm but quickly drops his hand as if afraid he’ll touch you again.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I didn’t mind.” You would have minded if it had been any other man, but Steven…

Stop it.

“You’re sure?” he asks tentatively, looking like a puppy about to be told he’s a good boy, eyes lit up hopefully.

You can feel yourself starting to burn with an overwhelming want.

“Absolutely,” you say, and Steven sighs in palpable relief.

“Oh, good. Still sorry, though. For not thinking and all.”

And though you tried to deny it, you can’t stop thinking that Steven…could be fun. Something alights in you the more you look at him. The different sides you’ve already seen. His helpfulness, his genuine interest, and knowledge about the place he works. The roll of his eyes and complaints about a manager. A man who’ll snark back, but only just enough to keep from getting into trouble. How he spoke to you as if you were friends before the slight mortification hit, and he realized the two of you are nothing but strangers.

You recognize something in him, and it makes you want him. Want to lavish him with affection and praise and gifts. Want him to give that same affection back to you. You want him on your arm. You want to play with him, see what makes him tick.

You want to give him all you’ve never had.

You shouldn’t think about him like this, not when you don’t know anything about him.

But you know enough. Enough to intrigue you. And he intrigues you more than any of the others you’ve been with. None of them have sparked this deep desire, not so instantaneously, not until they worked out exactly what you wanted and played that role. They weren’t like this naturally.

They weren’t like you.

But it has to be a no. You can’t. You have rules.

And yet…

You glance at your watch, the thin band flashing gold on your wrist, the crystal face sparkling up at you in the light.

“I have to get going,” you say regretfully, and Steven looks slightly disappointed. You want to keep talking to him and wipe that look from his face. You have to force yourself to take a step back.

“But I’ll see you around, Stevie.” You’re practically possessed as the nickname rolls from your lips, even though you know, based on his interaction with Donna, that he doesn’t like it.

You just need to see that fire. Need to know what it’s like when it’s directed at you.

“It’s Steven, actually,” he corrects with a slight annoyance that he tries to cover with a smile. He even taps his name tag a little more forcefully than he needs to, as if to make sure you get the point. He may like you well enough to have a chat, but he won’t put up with things that displease him, either.

Oh, he will be so much fun.

You try to smile sweetly at him, but it feels more like a predatory grin spreading across your face. “Sorry. See you around, Steven.”

#moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight fanfic #x reader #sugar series

285 notes · View notes

shuttershocky · 6 months

Note

how do you feel about iori/saber so far by the way, whether as a ship or just their dynamic in general

I really like their dynamic!

While Iori and Saber themselves are full of callbacks to the original Shirou and Saber, their relationship dynamic is something that's all their own.

Usually a servant like FSR Saber would have belonged to a more emotional master. Saber starts the game out as an arrogant, destructive force and a bit of a bully, constantly going "Good grief my master's so weak! How did I get such a weak master when I can solo this whole thing? I should just kill everybody that gets in my way."

Rather than get upset or insecure however, Iori's humility and martial discipline ends up making a wall for Saber's arrogance to repeatedly bounce off of. When told he's weak, he goes "You are right. I don't fight because I'm strong, but because I should." When Saber talks down to him saying his presence doesn't change the outcome of a fight whatsoever, he just goes "I know. I'm doing the best I can."

This doesn't just eventually warm Saber up to him, but it also ends up creating the soul of their dynamic for the rest of the game. Saber's powerful, impulsive, and free in all their aspects, while Iori is measured, disciplined, and tied down (he's poor, he's an orphan, he's a warrior in an age of peace). This leads to fun gags like Saber having that classic Saber gluttony which wreaks havoc on Iori as a poor ronin living hand to mouth every day, but where this really shines is in how it makes its own twist in the original dynamic of Shirou and Saber.

Underneath Shirou and Saber's relationship was the recognition of themselves in the other. Both were willing to give up their entire lives for the greater good without once thinking of themselves, and seeing it in the other person horrified them because that was someone they cared about, while making a special exception for their own self-sacrifice.

In Samurai Remnant, Saber wonders how could such a weak human have summoned a servant as powerful as them, but the answer slowly becomes obvious as their relationship grows. Hiding underneath Saber's smug nature is a legend known for brutally killing anything and everything that stood in their way, whether that be armies, kings, monsters, or even gods. Why? What could compel a human to put a god to the sword just because they were ordered to? How broken and terrible inside must you be to see an aspect of divine power and feel no fear, only the desire to fight and to kill something that should be untouchable by a human?

The most delicious part of Iori and Saber's developing relationship is Saber slowly realizing that the bravery in Iori's eyes when he (literally) locks blades with a Servant is not bravery, but something much more familiar.

It should also be said that FSR Saber is one of the extremely few servants (if not the first even) to cry about the thought of leaving their Master after the ritual has ended.

Bittersweet goodbyes have been a mainstay of the series since Fate/Stay Night, but FSR is the first time in my memory that we see a Servant look back at the short, second life they've been given and actually break into tears about not wanting to go.

Going back to the throne of heroes would mean returning to legend. They'd be the bloodstained killer and godslayer. Unparalleled, feared, revered, and alone. Meanwhile in this incarnation, they run around doing odd jobs every day to afford rice, assumed by the neighbors to be the new fiance of the poor ronin that lives in a shack, destined to be forgotten by history like everyone around them living humble and ordinary lives. And now that they've tasted it, they don't want to go back. They've fallen in love with this life, and have to live out the rest of the Waxing Moon Ritual knowing they don't have a choice about going back.

It's soooooo good. Such a perfect capture of that vintage Type-Moon feeling, I'd almost forgotten this wasn't even written by TM themselves but by the Fire Emblem Three Houses team.

#FSR spoilers #Fate Samurai Remnant

285 notes · View notes

thewalkingwillowtree · 1 month

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love.

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Part 20 - New Life

From her spot around the crackling fire, Xilä felt as if she were being watched. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was though.

Since their arrival at Awa’atlu, she’d gotten her fair share of stares and peaks and glances. She’d expected it really.

Physically wise, Xilä was no Omaticaya, so she didn’t blame the Metkayina people for their curiosity. She herself was curious about them.

So when the other clans had arrived- all in their varying physicality's, she wasn’t the only one of interest and it was nice if she were being honest.

But Aonung however, well his stares were different. She didn’t think they had anything to do with her features, not really. It didn’t feel rude or inappropriate either. More… intrigued, perhaps? Confused?

He always watched her as if he had a question right at the tip of his tongue, but he never asked. Instead he’d always pursue his lips and look away.

Tonight, a large group of them- all mostly within the same age bracket, had escaped to a nearby little island, which was nothing more than a sandy beach with very little vegetation.

Away from the rest of their families, they built an impressive bonfire and made themselves comfortable on woven mats whilst pouches and cups of strongly brewed spirits and fermented wine were shared around.

Xi politely declined any offers of the alcoholic beverages and was thankful that no one questioned her about it.

Their large group was scattered along the shoreline, creating clusters of conversations and activities and attraction was heavy in the air.

For those single- the women whispered and giggled amongst their groups, eyes darting over to whichever male had caught their attention.

As for the men- well, their own peeks and glances weren’t as hidden either, not even the ones being silly and dumb by daring each other to do stupid things by the water’s edge.

There were even couples- some mated like her and Neteyam who cuddled and spoke quietly as if they were in their own world, gazes locked and glistening with love.

The vibe and atmosphere all reminded Xilä of the night she’d completed her rites. They were all so young and full of life. And the rare freedom to let go and be themselves- away from elders or younglings, it was refreshing.

Unable to bear the feeling any longer, Xilä finally turned away from her mate and met Aonung’s intense stare.

He was quite a sight to see- he always was really. Aonung had not one, but two gorgeous females under his arms. A flirty, bubbly thing- the daughter of an Anuri warrior who seemed to be animatedly talking his ear off.

And the other- a sultry, vixen of a Metkayina woman whose lips appeared to be permanently attached to his skin- her mouth lavishing and sucking at his neck with gusto. The woman whispered something to him- something that made his lips quirk devilishly.

“I’m beginning to think your friend has a staring problem,” Xilä murmured to her mate.

“He’s asking for it now,” Neteyam replied through gritted teeth. “I won’t warn him a second time.”

She probably shouldn’t have said anything. “Ignore him. He’s probably doing it on purpose, trying to test your patience.”

“Sure.”

Xilä tittered when he wrapped a possessive arm around her and allowed herself to be shifted out of view- face pushed into a hard chiselled chest. She didn’t need to glance up to know her mate was probably boring holes into Aonung’s head.

Their bickering hot and cold, frenemy relationship never failed to amuse her. They were adults- men, but yet they behaved like boys around each other.

The Metkayina male gave him a knowing smirk before returning to the conversation with the group surrounding him- his voice so important that all eyes fell on him to hear what he was saying.

Lo’ak’s laugh pulled Neteyam’s attention away- and Xilä’s.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” she whispered, peeking out to observe the couple seated nearby. “He’s completely smitten.”

Neteyam watched Lo’ak and Tsireya. His head was in her lap and their fingers were interlocked- they looked every bit in love.

He’d never seen his brother so open with affection. Not with anyone really. Lo’ak was a heartbreaker- unknowingly to himself. Kiri didn’t joke about his fan club for no reason. His brother had charm and the moves to have any woman at his feet- something Neteyam had once upon a time been jealous of.

But this? This open display of ‘this is my woman’- Neteyam had never seen this from him.

“Oh yeah... He’s a goner. She’s good for him.”

When the drums and bone flutes began with a deafening roar, Xilä was quick to find Kiri- both girls pulling a hesitant Tsireya along to dance amongst a growing crowd.

And while she was busy, Neteyam enjoyed conversing with a spontaneously formed group of men he and Lo’ak had befriended during their stay. There were K’ayno and Astlu- cousins from the Tipiani clan, Ye’k- a warrior from Ta'unui and Cxian the son and next in line Olo'eyktan of the Sarentu clan.

Neteyam of course couldn’t help himself and still kept careful watch on Xilä, lips quirking upwards every time his eyes landed on her. She was enchanting as she moved- standing out from everyone else.

She and Tsireya eventually made their way to him and Lo’ak- Xilä begging him to dance with her- eyes dangerous and weaponized to make him weak, however could he say no?

They danced for what felt like hours- yipping and twirling on fast feet. Rhythmic music beats speeding up, Xi’s hips moved wildly in time with the drums. Neteyam followed, eyes heated and intense on the woman before him, hands greedy and unable to not touch her skin while he stole and planted kisses wherever he could.

It was electrifying.

There was no one else but her and him.

As the night wore on, almost everyone was on their feet, bodies moving carefree and minds loose as they gave in to the spirit of the music.

Eventually needing a break, Neteyam left Xilä in the trusted hands of his brother, sister, and now soon to be sister-in-law. Xi loved dancing, she was not stopping any time soon, he knew.

Returning from relieving himself in a secluded patch of shrubbery, he saw a lone figure near the water’s edge.

“Not in a dancing mood, I see,” he teased, startling his friend who had been tossing pieces of his meal into the calm ocean, a sort of game with a few clustered ilu.

“Not really, no. Although I must say it was quite shocking to see you of all people out there with the rest of them. Last I remember from your previous visit, you turned down almost every teenage girl who’d dared muster the courage to ask you to dance.”

Neteyam snorted. “Yeah well what can I say, Aonung? Those girls weren’t my wife.”

Aonung's flickered to his, and the same curious expression he’d been staring at Xilä with was now directed at him. He stared as if wondering who the man in front of him was- as if seeing him for the first time.

“Alright, enough. Spit it out. What’s the matter? If I didn’t know you, with all the looks and staring you’ve been giving my mate lately, I’d think you were interested in her- but I do know you so I know you’re not stupid enough for it to be that. What’s going on Aonung?”

Aonung’s gaze fell. Jaw clenched in irritation, he pretended to be far more interested in the rolling sea.

Before Neteyam could speak again, they were interrupted.

“Aonuuung, come dance with me,” a Metkayina woman crooned through slurred speech. She plastered herself to him, most likely unaware that Neteyam was standing right there since her fingers tried to creep into Aonung’s loincloth. “Or do you want to sneak any instead? I’ll do that thing with my tongue like last time and maybe we could-”

“Zers’i,” Aonung chided, although there was no real bite to it. “Go find someone else to warm your bed tonight. I’m sorry, but I’m not very good company right now.”

“Oh…” She pouted dramatically- huffing in disappointment when he pulled her hand away from groping him. “Well maybe next time then, yeah?”

“Next time,” he promised.

Neteyam coughed and looked away when the woman promptly kissed him- practically sticking her tongue down his throat in goodbye before finally stumbling back to the dancing crowd.

“Brother, don’t even.”

But Neteyam couldn’t keep a straight face.

Aonung scowled and flopped to the ground with a sigh when he heard his friend’s stifled titters turn into a full bellied laugh.

“Right… no, because while I’m thoroughly traumatized, that- that was entirely too entertaining.”

“How’d you and Xilä happen?”

“What?” Neteyam sobered up quickly at the sudden question.

Aonung blew out a breath and hung his head, elbows digging into his propped thighs. “I need a mate. Soon.”

Understanding dawned upon Neteyam. He glanced over to the crowd in the distance and once he spotted Xilä who was squashed between Kiri, Tsireya and a few other familiar females, he slumped down onto the sand beside his friend.

“A mate… You’ve been given a deadline I’m assuming?”

“A year. One fucking year,” Aonung rasped.

“Shit.” And Neteyam thought his six years were ridiculous.

“I don’t know how you do it. I don’t think I’m cut out for all this. How do you deal with the pressure? We have to take over from our fathers, follow in their great and mighty footsteps- lead an entire clan of people who hold us with the highest of expectations. They expect us to find a woman and make sure we produce the future generation, they expect us to be the best examples and not step an inch out of line because when we mess up it’s-”

“Our responsibility and we should have known better… yeah.” Neteyam rubbed the back of his neck. He knew exactly where Aonung was coming from- from each and every side. “Believe me I get it- all of it.”

They sat quietly for a few long minutes- the drums and yips and hoots being the only thing they heard until Aonung broke the silence between them.

“Your Xilä is great- amazing. I’m halfway not joking when I say sometimes that I’d steal her from you… but she baffles the shit out of me.”

“It what way?”

Aonung shrugged. “She’s as in love with you as you’re in love with her. Right?”

Well now Neteyam was straight up confused. “I’d say so, yeah.”

“And it’s not all an act?”

“Fuck no. What are you trying to get at?”

“The last time you were here, you said you’d probably never take a mate. You said- what was it again? Oh right, that you hated the pressure of being “the chief’s kid and wish you had the guts to do things your way.” Did I remember all of that right?”

“Impeccable memory there, brother. You should also note that I was sixteen and an idiot.”

“Skxawng relax,” Aonung chuckled, amused by Neteyam’s sudden defensiveness. “I’m glad you found happiness, truly. I’m simply looking for it myself. You saw a couple of the others-” he jerked his chin towards a certain group of men- men like them who either followed in their father’s footsteps, or “married” into it. “Not everyone like us gets lucky like you.”

Neteyam absorbed his words. He knew arranged matings were the norm for most clans. Some pairings eventually found love, while others tolerated the match. Neteyam knew he was blessed, this trip had solidified it as much.

Of the many Na’vi who’d shown up to Awa’atlu, he and Aonung had met some of the unlucky ones- the ones who’d taken another out of duty and expectation. It wasn’t that they were out right miserable, but it was clear as day… They weren’t really happy.

“I guess I should be grateful that my parents are allowing me to find my own mate and haven’t just thrown someone at me… K’ayno over there”- he pointed to the Tipani man- “his mate was picked out for him before he could even talk. They’ve been together for eight years already. They’ve got a kid and another on the way… does it seem like there’s an ounce of affection in that relationship to you?”

“Eight years? He’s only two years older than me..”

“Yeah. And I don’t want that. Couldn’t do it.”

Neteyam distractedly nodded in agreement, mind whirling away.

“How’d you choose her though? Xi? How did you decide to spend an eternity with that one woman?”

“Eywa.”

“Eywa? That’s a given, ‘Teyam. I’m being serious here.”

“And so am I. Look, just like you I got a deadline, not only that but a blood-oathed yes from me, sealed the deal- I had no choice. At first I did try to make a connection. Nothing felt right. I fooled around with a couple women- though, not as openly as you, my friend,” he said, making them both chuckle. It eased the tension somewhat. “But it wasn’t until Xilä who practically landed in my arms, did I know. Eywa’s to thank for that.”

After another quick glance to his woman, he continued. “She’s impossible not to love. It was fast. I didn’t even court her. I claimed her as mine without going through all the traditional bullshit, and pissed off our mothers and half the clan while at it… and I have no regrets. I’d do it all the same way in a heartbeat.”

Aonung’s brows rose high at the admission of pissing off their mothers and made a playful jab that made the conversation veer off topic for a couple minutes.

“Man, your story was sweet and all, but that tells me nothing. How’d you know it was Xi?”

He considered the question. “I cared.”

“You… cared? That’s it? It was that easy?”

“She was the first thing on my mind when I woke up and the last before I slept. It might sound trivial, but I cared about whether she’d eaten dinner or what her plans were for the rest of the day. I wanted to know everything about her. What her favourite food was, what her past was like, what she wanted for her future. I wanted to know what her fears were and what I could do to make them all go away. I hated sharing her- wanted her all to myself all the fucking time. And… and I’d never felt an ounce of any of that with anyone. Ever.”

Aonung had an indescribable look on his face as Neteyam spoke. He shook his head, brows furrowed in hopelessness. “I don’t even know where to begin looking for someone like that. Not that I even tried looking yet, that is.”

“So don’t.” Neteyam shrugged, “This might be shit advice, so take it at your own risk… but maybe you shouldn’t look. I had about given up until Xilä came along. Maybe it can work for you too. Eywa will hear your heart.”

Aonung reluctantly nodded. “Thanks,” he said in a tight voice, and Neteyam knew his thanks weighed heavily- that it meant more.

“Oh and by the way, if you tell anyone about this little conversation, I’ll deny it and kick your ass. I’m not giving up hope for round two with you and beating you this time around.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Neteyam shoved him with a grin of his own.

His friend's chin jerked forward to where Xilä stood a couple feet away, seeming unsure if she should interrupt.

“I think your pretty mate misses you,” he pointed out, taking in the way her cheeks were flushed and hair was wild and askew from her dancing. There was no doubt she was gorgeous and although he was wholeheartedly happy for Neteyam, he still felt that subtle pang of jealousy.

“I’ll see you bro,” Neteyam said, eyes drawn to his waiting wife. They both got to their feet and slapped arms in parting.

Aonung watched Neteyam greet his mate, head ducking low to claim her lips, one palm cupping her cheek, the other pulling her close while Xilä tucked her fingers into his belt.

“Hi baby,” he heard Neteyam murmur, “you ready to go?”

Xilä whispered something that Aonung couldn’t make out, but it made Neteyam laugh and kiss her again, deeper as if he hadn’t seen her for ages.

And when they broke apart- voices hushed and eyes intensely locked, Aonung didn’t miss the way his friend’s palm spread across the span of Xilä’s stomach… or the way they both looked down to where it rested, smiles matching in the moonlight.

The old device gave a loud whirring noise that made all three of them cringe and wince in discomfort. Xilä in particular slapped her palms to her ears to try and muffle the sound, while Neteyam himself clenched his teeth together- ears flat to his head.

“Sorry! Sorry! Lemme just- oh don’t do this to me now.” Norm’s fingers moved furiously across the keyknobs and the instant the high pitched sound ended, he released a joyful WHOOP and raised his fist in the air. “It works! I am a fucking genius.”

Neteyam chuckled and peered over the older man’s shoulder at the large, clear monitor screen. The glass had a slight crack on the top left corner, but then again the thing was most likely ancient after all.

Xil watched too, fascinated by the numbers, letters and moving lines that flooded the “page” Norm had brought up.

“Alright then genius, lets see you get it up and running now.”

They left him to it, and it took him another half hour filled with curses and threats at the poor device, but with a final few strokes of the keyboard, Norm was looking back at Stephan and Max- their background being the familiar scenery of the labs back at Home Camp.

Between him and Stephan, they made a few more tweaks, and then- finally then, Xilä was staring back at her parents who were also awed by the technology like her.

“Xilä! Oh magnificent Eywa- Jxo, look, look it’s our Xilä!” Salveen was yelling at the top of her lungs. “Darling, can you see us too?! Can you hear me?!” the elder screeched while her face pressed up into the glass.

Norm, Xilä and Neteyam smothered their amusement while watching a very patient Max explain to her parents how the communication worked and that they could speak normally.

“We’ll give you some time to catch up, but I’ll be back, okay?” Neteyam murmured before he and Norm quickly made their way out of the designated mauri used for communications- a makeshift lab of some sort.

“Hi,” Xilä breathed, smiling wide at the sight of them after so long, fingertips gently pressed to the glass.

“Oh I miss you, my sweet girl. Darling you’re glowing, you look so beautiful, doesn’t she, Jxo?”

Jxo grunted in agreement. “When are you coming back?” was the first thing he said.

Xilä’s smile faulted a little, she was going to have to tell them. “I miss you too. So much. Have you been taking care of yourselves?”

“Bah, we’re fine. Just fine. Oh I have so much to tell you though. You’ll never guess who broke off their betrothal!”

On and on Sal went, filling Xilä in on all the latest gossip of the Camp. Xilä awed and gasped and laughed throughout it all- giggling, especially when Sal would throw out a “right, Jxo?” to which the man would simply nod or grunt in agreement.

Xilä loved them both so much. Right now all she longed for was to hug them, to physically see them in person. She missed them a ridiculous amount.

She perked up when she heard a familiar shriek in the background.

D’avi and Yalnïk appeared with their two babbling children. “Xilä!”

“D’aviii!”

L’eya was plonked onto her grandfather’s lap and then an overly excited D’avi invaded most of the space on the screen and started blubbering away- much like her mother had done before.

There were many “I miss yous” and “look how shiny and long your hair has gotten!” and “when are you coming home?”

Both sisters were momentarily in their own little world and Xi was saved from answering her sister’s last question when L’eo shrieked- the baby clearly needing some attention.

Yalnïk and D’avi proudly filled her in on the twins' newest milestones. L’eo was even more a talker now, and Xilä had just about burst into tears when Yalnïk pointed to her and asked his son to say hi to his aunty Xilä- to which L’eo strung together a jumbled mess of words that sounded exactly like it.

L’eya had finally taken her first steps and was now cautiously toddling around after her brother who’d Xi had had the joy witnessing his own first steps before she’d left.

Jxo had gotten up to give Xilä a little demonstration by placing the baby down on shaky legs. She was still wobbly and didn’t want to let go of her grandfather’s fingers, but she managed to make a couple solid steps before falling on her bum. L’eya’s bottom lip wobbled in preparation to cry but still distractedly clapped her hands along with everyone else when they’d cheered her.

Xilä had tears running down her cheeks by now. “Ah my babies, I miss you two so much,” she sobbed whilst smiling back at the toothy little grins of her chatty excited niece and nephew who blew her sloppy kisses.

“Do you want me to come get you?” Jxo suddenly asked- voice gruff and no nonsense as ever. He kept staring at her as if trying to figure something out. “What’s that damn boy doing to you? You keep crying, darling. I don’t like it.”

“Jxo!” Sal chided but her mate paid her no mind.

He simply handed her L’eya and came closer to the screen, frown deepening. “Where’s he at, Xilä? I want to talk to him.”

Xilä couldn’t help laughing while she frantically tried to remove the evidence from her under her eyes and cheeks. “I’m fine, father. I am. Neteyam is as wonderful as ever to me. I just really miss you all. Finally talking and seeing you,” she sniffled, “just makes me really happy.”

Her father seemed to buy it after a couple more of her assurances.

Her family asked about life at Awa’atlu- Yalnïk in particular was highly interested in the fishing techniques and gear- which Xilä suggested he ask her husband instead- she’d not really paid any attention to the job.

D’avi told her that Leati and Ze’lu had finally started courting- much to Fe’ska’s displeasure and apparently there was a very public argument between the mother and daughter that was all the clan could talk about for days.

They spent another half hour of bonding before Neteyam returned and quietly asked if she was ready for him to interrupt. Crouched beside her with a warm palm to her thigh, he greeted her family and caught up with them- marvelling over how much the twins had grown in the few months they’d been gone.

And when the Sully family started trickling in- Spider included of course and when Mo’at appeared on the screen as well- it was like one big happy reunion.

Mo’at had eyes for only her at first, ignoring everyone else in favour of asking about her health. The Tsahìk was not usually the fretting type, but with all the questions and attention, Xilä had a feeling that the grandmother knew.

Afterwards Lo’ak introduced them to his lovely future mate who shifted nervously under Mo’at’s assessing gaze. D’avi saved the awkward encounter by complementing Tsireya’s hair, and from there, the two became quite chatty.

Finding the right moment, Neteyam stood, cleared his throat, calling for everyone’s attention. He squeezed the back of his mate’s neck in comfort when she leaned her head against his leg.

“So, I’ll admit, I had a bit of an ulterior motive for making all this happen. We- Xilä and I have some news we’d like to share.”

A soft gasp was heard through the computer- D’avi.

“Oh I knew-mpf!”

Yalnïk covered his mate's mouth like he’d probably had to do a thousand times, and shot Neteyam a sheepish smile and nod to continue.

“Right, um, baby?” He offered her his hands and helped her stand.

Xilä was nervous, but with an uncontrollable excited grin, she pushed down the bunchy material of her long slitted skirt which sat high up on her waist and revealed the little bump she’d been hiding for the last couple of weeks.

“Surprise! I’m pregnant!”

The noise that erupted was deafening- cheers and screams and cries of happiness which was mildly overwhelming.

Neytiri was the first to wrap her up in a hug, pulling back to cup Xilä’s cheeks with a blinding smile before she was leaning over to do the same to her son.

Sal was just about squeezing the life out of poor Jxo as she squealed and jabbered on and on.

“I knew it!” D’avi was telling Kiri whilst taking a whining L’eo into her arms, and blindly pulling at her top so her baby could feed. “She’s got the glow- and the tears.”

“Shit, you’re right, the tears! I knew something was up,” Spider laughed, “no regular sane person cries over fruit- Ow! Kiri!”

Kiri rolled her eyes at him, then made her move to congratulate her brother and sister-in-law.

“XiXii!” Lo’ak shouted from across the room. “I’m really going to be an uncle? You- you’re not pranking, right? Because this is the best day everrrr! Babe, hold me,” he fake sobbed dramatically, throwing himself at Tsireya.

A frowning Tuktirey had made her way to her eldest brother and patted his leg to get his attention. He’d been wrapped up in a hug by his father who was teasing him about his upcoming journey of fatherhood.

“Hey there, baby sis.” He lifted her up with a dramatic groan and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Tuk poked his nose and then frowned at Xilä who was chatting away with Mo’at and her family through the screen. “You’re still gonna love me the most right?” she pouted. “Even when the baby comes?”

“Aw, Tuk. Are you worried about that?”

The little girl shrugged and played with the beads on his choker. “Täylley said when her sister had a baby, everyone forgot about her. She said they only ever wanted to play with the new baby. Just like everyone sometimes does with L’eo and L’eya.”

Neteyam knew the feeling Tuk was experiencing all too well. He was the eldest of four after all.

“I’m sorry your friend’s feeling that way but I’m sure that’s not the case at all. And it definitely won’t be the case for you. Who do you think is going to teach the baby how to build a fort or paint the best looking flowers I’ve ever seen?”

“I can climb the best in my class. I bet they wouldn’t know how to do that either.”

“Nope. See, they’ll need an expert like you to show them.”

“Yeah, I can show them… but only when they get older. When they could talk- and walk,” Tuk said, hesitantly as if trying not to get too excited.

“That’s right.. You know, the baby, and L’eo and L’eya are going to need someone they can look up to. Someone awesome, and brave and smart. Someone who can-”

Tuk’s eyes were wide as she absorbed her brother’s words. “Me. Me! I can be that person. I know I’m only seven, but I can do it! Almost- almost like a big sister, right?”

Neteyam kissed her cheek again and playfully tickled her side. “That’s right.”

Xilä shook her head at her mother’s question. “I haven’t really been sick, mostly nauseous around certain scents.”

“Oh you lucky bitch,” D’avi teased without heat. “These two had me constantly throwing up for the first four months straight, and then it was a constant fight or dance party inside me for the other eight.”

“What has Ronal been giving you for your daily nutritional maintenance?” Mo’at asked with a slight frown.

“A couple things I’m unfamiliar with. But I feel fine and my energy is good. Once I have a nap in the afternoon, I’m not overly tired for the rest of the day.”

“What worries you mother?” Neytiri, who was at Xilä’s side, asked.

“I know not about the Metkayina’s ways. I would be far more comfortable knowing Xilä was under my care. How far along are you, dear? Did Ronal confirm?”

“I’m nearing the end of my fifth month,” Xilä admitted with a hand to her stomach. She knew where this was going. She knew it was time to share the other part of the news with her family- news she was dreading.

“She- Ronal strongly advises against me returning home until a couple months after the birth.”

“What?!!” D’avi and Sal exclaimed together. Even Neytiri- and Kiri, who had just joined, glanced at her in alarm, Jxo’s lighthearted expression turned to stone.

“We don’t leave here for another two and a half months and by then I’ll be too far along to risk the journey by ikran… I’m sorry mother, I-”

“No… No, Tsahìk, tell her it’s fine,” Sal gently demanded- though a hint of hysteria poked through.

“I’m afraid Ronal is right. I was against you going on this trip in the first place. But it wasn’t for me to say at the time- and the risk was far lower. As much as you may not like it Xilä, the safest thing for you and the baby is to stay there.”

Neteyam didn’t think he could ever tire of the beauty spanned before him. Even at night, Awa’atlu was a sight to behold.

He and Xilä sat on the beach while calm waves rolled in, kissing the tips of his toes before fading back. His pretty mate sat between his propped up thighs, head and body molded to his chest while he cradled her bump.

Since they’d found out she was expecting two months ago, her bump had grown- still small but prominent enough that she couldn’t hide it anymore.

“You’re quiet tonight. Too quiet.”

“Just thinking.”

“More like overthinking. I can hear your thoughts a mile away, sweetheart… Tell me.”

She sighed. “I think it’s finally registered for me that we’re actually having a baby… a baby who’s going to be here in only a couple of months. Our baby, yours and mine… I- I’m going to be a mother.”

At her tone, Neteyam’s fingers paused their gentle caressing on her bump. He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“I know we’ve had conversations before and I agreed to all of this, and I’m not backing out- I’m not. But I’m scared, Neteyam. Eywa gave us a precious gift.”

Her hands came up to rest over his. “I’m scared that I’m going to mess this up somehow. I don’t know the first thing about being a good mother. I mean, look at last month- I completely freaked out when I felt our baby flutter inside of me for the first time.”

Still listening, her mate hugged her closer, chin nudging her temple, propped thighs pressing into hers.

“My birth parents messed me up. Their own parents messed them up too. I want to break that cycle. I refuse to be like them. But it doesn't stop my worrying and I- Ugh… You probably think I’m being silly bringing this all up again.”

“Xilä…” Neteyam licked his lips and exhaled a breath. “You’re not alone in the way you’re feeling. You don’t think I worry about being a good father? Of course I do. But we’re in this together. You and me, baby. We’ll figure it all out together too. And you what? We’re going to mess up. We’re going to make mistakes. There’s no perfection in all of this.”

He flipped the arrangement of their hands, his covering hers as they rested against her skin. “But you know what? The little one we created inside there? We’re going to try our damn hardest to be the best parents we could possibly be for them, and we’re going to love the heck out of our kid. ”

“Yeah?” Her head tilted to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, baby. You and me. Always...” He ducked and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Xilä. Our baby is lucky.”

Just as Xilä was about to respond, a sharp gasp escaped her lips instead.

Neteyam tensed. “What-”

“‘Teyam, I-” She grappled for his palm and moved it lower- just under her navel where she’d felt it.

He was going to ask her what was wrong when he felt it too- he felt the light pressure press into his hand, a small little first hello from his baby.

“Was that-” And if he thought he’d imagined it he certainly didn’t, because he felt it again, and then again.

“Oh Eywa,” he whispered, meeting her awed ecstatic expression. “Was that the first time? First kick?”

“Uh-huh. Oh! There it is again.”

“Well hi there, little Sprout. Are you finally saying hello?”

“Sprout?” Xilä chuckled.

“Yeah, been calling them that in my head since your tiny bump first appeared.”

“Sprout. I like it- it’s a cute nickname… Hello, baby Sprout,” she sang to her tummy.

“Speaking of names, we’re going to have to pick one ou-”

“‘Teyam.” Xilä suddenly sat up and turned to give him her full attention, finality set in her expression. It had been eating her alive and now she was more sure than ever.

“I know Ronal said it’s not safe- but I really don’t want to have the baby here. I want to go home. I want us to go home.”

And without hesitation or worry over how he was even going to make it happen, Neteyam gave her a firm nod. “Okay. Then we’re going to go home.”

“Are you going to get big like D’avi was? She was so huge! Bigger than Täylley’s sister when she was having her baby.”

“A-ha! Um, maybe. D’avi was having twins after all.”

“Oh right… Is it only Sprout then? They’ll be lonely inside of there don’t you think? Oh! Do you remember the christening grandmother Sal took us too? The one where her- her friend’s daughter had three babies?! You should do that Xi.

You should grow three.”

“Three?” Xilä spluttered with a laugh. “Why three?”

“Three’s better. There’ll be one for me, one for L’eo and one for L’eya to play with,” the seven year old stated matter-of-factly.

“I see… Well, I’m sorry I can’t make that happen. I don’t think it works like that. And anyway, Ronal confirmed there’s only one little one growing inside of me right now.”

“Oh. Mm that’s okay too, I guess. We’ll just have to share, but I’ll be the baby’s fav-”

Tuk stopped. Her brow wrinkled as she pondered in thought, fingers pausing their works on the pile of sand she and Xilä were constructing.

“Xilä? Do you think Sprout will like me? Täylley fights all the time with her sister’s baby- and he can’t even talk yet! She said he’s always pulling her hair or biting her finger! Can you believe that?”

Xilä tried her hardest not to laugh at the little girl’s theatrics. “I think the baby will love you, Tuk. Just like I do. I’m a little jealous that my baby will grow up having someone amazing like you in their life, honestly.”

“I am pretty amazing, huh?” Tuk nodded seriously, making Xilä smother another incoming chuckle.

Tuktirey scooted over on her knees, sandy little hands reaching out to rest against Xilä’s bump. “I think you’d be a really great mommy.”

Xilä sucked in a surprised breath. “Yeah? What makes you say that?” she whispered.

“Just because, and my mommy and daddy said so too last night,” Tuk shrugged while she continued to rub Xilä’s belly, rendering the pregnant woman slightly speechless.

“Why’s the baby so quiet? Can you make Sprout do the kicking thing again?”

“Baby’s probably sleeping. Lately, they seem to like keeping me awake at night with all their stretching and kicking. Shall we see if we can wake them up?”

After a couple nudges and feeling around, they finally felt a small, almost barely there kick which made Tuktirey giggle then pout when the baby didn’t move again.

“I think Sprout’s a bit grumpy today. Probably telling us off for disturbing their sleep.”

Tuk sighed dramatically, a sigh that reminded Xilä too much of Sal. “Okay, well let's get back to work then. I’ll finish the mountains and you dig the hole for the lake. Then we can fill it with water.”

“Hey, Tuk,” Xilä called when she caught sight of a lonely figure. Ronal and Tonowari’s youngest son was playing in the sand by himself a couple feet away. “This seems like a really big task. Why don’t you invite him to come help us?”

“Ohh, great idea!”

Once the trio completed their masterpiece and the kids decided to run off and play near where Neytiri was helping shell clams with a couple other women, Xilä stepped away and walked toward the shoreline.

A cool breeze sent her hair flying. She shook out the thin shawl she’d been sitting on and wrapped it around her shoulders instead to combat the chill of the wind.

Neteyam and Aonung were still where she’d left them since she’d come out here. They were further out- knee length deep in the crystal clear waters as they fished.

Xilä bit her lip at the sight before her. She openly ogled her mate, appreciating the ripples of his back muscles and biceps while he worked the massive net in his hands. Aonung must've said something funny, because her husband's shoulders shook slightly.

“Can you not look at my brother like that in public, Xilä?” Kiri complained with a dramatic groan, making the pregnant woman jump as she approached. “I get that your hormones are all over the place but sheesh. Every time I see you it’s the same damn look. No one needs to see your fuck me eyes in public. Bleh.”

“Well hello to you too. I’ll remember this the next time you want to drag me to the training rings to spectate and find that Tasam’s the one who’s conveniently already there, mid-fight. I’ll remember to tell you the same thing when you’re shooting him your own fuck me eyes, as you call it.”

Kiri’s mouth flopped open to argue a retort, but she quickly shut it when nothing came out. “Shut up,” she seemed to come up with, failing at hiding her blush while Xi laughed.

“Do you miss him?”

“A lot honestly…” She made a face. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all. You like him, it’s okay to miss him… Do you find it weird?”

“Yes. I find the entire thing strange. We went from never hanging out, to pretty much spending all of our free time together. And now I’m wondering, how’d I never noticed him before? It’s like one day he just appeared. And he’s so…”

“He’s so what?”

“Unexpected.” Kiri settled on. She sighed. “Did you know he told me he’s liked me for years? Years, Xi. I didn’t even notice. It took your sister one afternoon to pick up on it and meddle her way into creating this thing between him and me.”

Xi drew into the damp sand with her toes. The waters rolled in and covered her feet, erasing her artwork when it fell away. “Honestly? I’m not surprised you didn’t. I’m sure you’ve not even noticed your Awa’atlu admirer either.”

“What? Who?!”

Xilä jerked her chin towards Rotxo’s direction. The quiet man seemed to always appear wherever her sister-in-law was. He was currently seated nearby, whittling a spear whilst shooting not so subtle glances in their direction.

“Are you talking about Rotxo?!”

“Mmhm. He’s definitely got a crush. Very sweet too, don’t you think?”

Kiri stared at him with a tilt of her head, brows furrowed in thought. “Huh.”

Xi snickered.

A comfortable silence fell over them, where they both got lost in their own thoughts. Xi returned to appreciating her husband’s backside while Kiri pursed her lips as if forcefully trying to keep words in.

“Tasam said he’s going to ask me to court when we get back home.”

An audible click was heard when Xi flung her neck towards Kiri, mouth open in shock, then morphing into excitement. “And what did you say to that?”

“Nothing… and then I felt bad because there was a whole awkward silence moment happening while my brain went haywire. He told me not to say anything yet. He wanted me to take the time away to really think about it before making a decision.”

“Aww Kiri. This is exciting. Do you know what you’re going to tell him?”

“Not yet,” her sister-in-law replied, but there was no hiding the blushing smile she tried to rein in.

A splash had them both looking out at the sea again.

“Oh look, here comes, your admirer, and I’m not talking about your husband,” Kiri deadpanned.

“Hello beautiful,” Aonung called out, wading through the waters towards them with his and Neteyam’s catch for the morning.

“Stop flirting with my wife, skxawng.”

Aonung jogged ahead of him and sent Xilä a playful wink with his good eye as he passed.

“Better get out of here before he gives you a matching black eye, you fool,” Kiri taunted. She followed after him then broke off and headed towards Rotxo who’d beckoned her over.

“I really still can’t believe you punched him, ‘Teyam. You’re not boys anymore. You use your words, not your fists!”

“I did warn him though. He’s the one who decided to keep flirting with you,” her husband shrugged as he made his way closer. “He knew he had it coming.”

“Handsome! He only does it to piss you off. You could just ignore him. You know that right?”

“I like my solution better.”

“Of course you do.” This man never ceased to amaze her.

Like an insect to a flame, when he got in reach, Neteyam’s hands crept under her shawl and immediately found her belly, fingers trailing over the smooth firm skin.

“Hi,” he whispered in greeting, ignoring her exasperated expression and kissing her anyway. “How’s my little Sprout doing today?”

Sprout gave a big kick as if awakened by the sound of Neteyam’s voice- as if saying hello daddy!

“Quiet until now. Our baby always knows when it’s you.”

That made him happy.

“What are you doing later? If you’re not busy tonight, do want to go on a date with me?” he asked with a wiggle of his brows.

Xilä pressed up onto her toes and looped her arms around his neck. Her bump prevented her from getting closer, but she made it work.

“Always… Will there be sex at the end?” she teased quietly.

“It’s on the list of activities, yeah.”

“Good. We haven’t done that in a while and I miss you.”

“It’s been only four days, Miss Greedy.”

“Exactly, it has been four days. I’m glad you’ve been keeping track. You’re the one who keeps putting off every one of my efforts.”

“Yeah, cause… baby, you’ve been so tired lately and- hey, don’t even,” he said, halting her objection. “Sprout’s been keeping you up a lot with all the kicking and you need to rest. So, I’m making sure that you do when you can. Even if it means, no sex sometimes.”

Xilä stared up at him for a long minute- taking her time to roam over his facial features. “I love you. What did I do to deserve you? I must have done something right- something big.”

“Stop.” He was trying so hard not to blush. “I hope you remember you love me the next time you want to rip my head off for simply breathing too loud.”

“That was one time.”

He raised an amused brow as if saying really, babe?

“To be fair you have been behaving ridiculous lately. Actually if we’re checking, pretty much since you found out we’re expecting.”

“When have I ever been ridiculous?”

“Are you kidding me? I have a whole list of instances, but if you want more recent- You tried to ban me from hanging out with Spider and Lo’ak just this morning at breakfast!”

“Because the idiots wanted you to go with them to explore Cx’ove Creek!” he hissed. “Who in their right mind invites a pregnant woman to go exploring a srakat infested water cave for fun?”

“I told you already, they were just being nice and simply offered. I wasn’t actually going to go! You didn’t have to be so bossy about it.”

“But I thought you liked it when I was bossy?”

She turned flustered. “Well yes, but-”

Neteyam silenced her with a kiss. Then another when she was about to protest and one final one before she finally gave up trying to argue. “I love you too by the way. Are you hungry? Have you had your second breakfast yet?”

She shook her head with a grumpy frown, eyes following him when he squatted in front of her.

“I think your mama’s mad at me, Sprout,” he whispered to their baby, kissing right where felt a poke, “but don’t worry, I’m going to feed you both and then I think we should all take a nap, and that means you too. Can’t keep waking her up every night, alright?”

They both grinned at their baby’s nudge.

“Alright,” he said, getting up, “time for second breakfast.”

Second breakfast. It made her chuckle every time.

When Jake had picked up on her habit of having another meal after breakfast and before her first lunch, he started calling it “second breakfast” which was some sort of inside joke between him and Norm.

They tried to explain the movie where the joke came from. There was something about a quest and a ring and a creature called a hobbit?

And although it went over her head, second breakfast stuck.

Their final two months at Awa’atlu flew by, bringing many changes along with it.

The majority of the other clan leaders and clan representatives had by now returned to their homes, but for the Sully company, they’d stayed the longest. Jake and his team’s roles were far too important for the massive project they’d started.

What they had accomplished was far from simply great- it was incredible, completely world changing. They had gotten the clans of Pandora to come together. Uniting them in a way that was marked as historic.

With Norm’s guidance, a temporary form of communication between all clans was successfully up and running. It also aided the new system they were trying to implement for the sharing of resources which was finally underway.

And thanks to it, Neteyam was able to secure a safe solution for his wife to return home…

The moment he saw her, the man’s jaw dropped. His grin broadened at the sight of her midsection. “Well look at you, kiddo!” Stephan laughed as he gently hugged Xilä. “The bump suits you, doll. Congrats, darling.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, proudly, hand automatically running along said bump. “Nice hairstyle, it suits you,” she replied, taking in his new-do. The sides were shaved and the hair in the middle was short and spiky.

“Much more me, right?” he winked, moving forward to their packed things to grab up three overstuffed satchels in one hand and a wrapped heavy net in the other. She’d gotten Aonung to organize the specially crafted gift for her last week- she couldn’t wait to give it to Yalnïk.

Neteyam and Lo’ak had just strolled into the marui when she awkwardly tried to bend to pick up a bag with the intention of following after Stephan. A belly bump made simple everyday tasks difficult sometimes, she was still adjusting.

Her mate was quick to tell her off however, mildly scolding her for even attempting to lift anything.

Xilä huffed. “We’ve talked about this, Neteyam. I’m not an invalid. At least let me help carry something out to the ship.”

“Here.” He handed her a small pouch of seaglass stones she and Tuk had collected which made Lo’ak snort when Xilä shot her husband an unimpressed look.

He took off with his own armfulls- the large case he’d brought his weapons in, a thick rolled up pelt and the last three satchels that held their belongings.

“Four more months. Just four more months,” Xilä sang to herself. “Have I told you that your brother is driving me crazy, Lo’ak?”

“Only two or three times a day since you told us you were expecting,” he teased.

“Ugh! Everything is don’t lift that, don’t go there, that’s too dangerous, my baby shouldn’t be eating that, eat this instead, you should rest, you should sit, you should sleep! Eywa! If I didn’t love the man…”

“Hey, don’t look at me for help. You’re the one who willingly chose him as your mate. You knew what you were getting yourself into…” His playful words fell away as he stared at her. “I’m going to miss you, XiXi.”

“Don’t do that, Lo’. You’ll make me cry. Do we really have to do this now?”

He clicked his tongue sympathetically. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

Xilä took one final glance at the now sparse marui before Lo’ak led them out onto the bouncing pathways.

“I��m going to miss you too, you know. You’d better not hold any blessing celebrations over you and Tsireya without me.”

“Nah. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. After that stunt Neteyam pulled with you, mom would kill me in a heartbeat, and Tsi’s parents aren’t people I want to cross either. Even grandmother threatened me on our last call. She wants to meet Tsireya in person before I officially ask Ronal and Tonowari for their blessing.”

“I get it. You’re bringing her on your visit in a couple of months right?”

“Yep. So you better not have that baby until we arrive.”

“I still can’t believe you’re moving out here. I am so happy for you, though.”

Lo’ak stopped and pulled her in for a hug, being extra careful not to squish her belly. “Hey Xi? I don’t think I ever apologized… but I’m sorry I was such an asshole the first time we met. You’re hella awesome.”

Xi hugged him a little tighter.

The beach was crowded that morning- much like it had been on the first first day they’d arrived. Many Metkayina surrounded Stephan’s ship, all awed and fascinated with the odd metal, bird-like aircraft.

From Xilä’s viewpoint she could see the eccentric Avatar giving a couple of the younglings a tour through the wide glass windows at the front of the ship.

This was it. It was time to return home.

Her and the Sullys’ goodbyes were bittersweet.

Awa’atlu had been their home for the past six months. She had formed deep connections, friendships and had grown attached to the sea and all the beauty that came with it.

“Take care of him for me, will you?” She overheard Neytiri asking Tsireya as they embraced. “He can be a handful sometimes- too stubborn for his own good, but he really is the sweetest boy.”

“Are you sure that contraption is safe?” Ronal interrupted, to ask Jake who was chatting with Tonowari. “I don’t know if it’s any better than your tempered ikrans. It doesn’t look like it.”

“It’s safe,” Jake assured. “They did a lot of repairs on the ship in preparation for this trip. Xilä and the baby will be well protected.”

She gave an unimpressed hum, but said nothing else on the matter. Her expression softened when Xilä approached to bid her goodbye. “You better bring that baby with you next time you visit. I can already sense your child will be destined for great things…”

Xi was finishing making her rounds when a voice called for her.

“Are you not going to say goodbye to me, beautiful?”

“Aonung.”

“Tsk. Aw come on Xi- I’m hurt, wounded,” he joked solemnly- palm over his heart.

“Take care of yourself, okay? I mean it.”

His smile fell a little. “I’m going to miss having you around. It was sure fun riling up your husband… I never did get to fight him again.”

A chest plastered against her back and she automatically leaned into it. “Yeah, cause you know you’d lose again, you skxawng,” Neteyam teased from over her head with a possessive palm to her round tummy.

Xi shook her head, highly amused- there they went again.

She was really going to miss this place.

Xilä’s reunion with her family was a joyful one. Welcomed home with open arms and all the love they had to give, she knew she made the right decision to come home.

Returning to the forest eased Xilä’s worries. It was safety, it was warmth and love. It was… home.

And although they’d been gone for six months, she and Neteyam had settled back in quite quickly and were able to return to their routines just like before.

She resumed her studies with Mo’at, eager to share all that she’d learned from the metkayina and Neteyam returned to his duties as a high ranker, along with all the other responsibilities he had under his belt.

What was most exciting was catching up on how much she’d missed out on.

Kah’lee and W’aote were on some sort of weird break where they weren’t talking but would still have the occasional “fuck session.” W’aote apparently was ready to settle down, but Kah’lee wasn’t- which was strange because before Xi left for Awa’atlu, it was the other way around. Kah’s hesitancy to officially court him sparked an argument between the two, thus creating the weird separation.

Leati and Ze’lu however were going strong. The female warrior loathed public displays of affection but Ze’lu appeared to be a stage five clinger- Kiri’s words, not hers. The man was completely in love and would smother his woman in affection despite her grumpy, lackluster protests.

Xilä personally thought they were a perfect couple. He calmed her bitchiness and temper tantrums and she brought him out of his shell. It was the perfect balance.

The twins' development, however, amazed Xi the most. They were toddling around everywhere now, and always chatting up a storm in a mixture of baby babbles and their ever growing learnt vocabulary.

They were also both fascinated with her belly bump, especially whenever Neteyam was able to coax a big movement from Sprout- tiny little hands patting her with excited squeals.

And speaking of babies. Xi and her husband had done a lot of preparing for their little one’s arrival. Xi had never sewed as much as she did before- Sal was a big help in that department.

Meanwhile Jxo and Neteyam did a lot of upgrades and rearranging of their tent in their spare time. Jake had pitched in too, only he called it baby proofing.

Her father had also built them the cutest little cot she’d ever seen… It was very similar to the ones he did for his first two grandbabies- and yes, she did cry when he gifted it to them.

Since finding out that they were going to be parents, the mated pair were eager to absorb as much information and advice from those closest to them. And sure, they would have the support whenever they needed it, but they wanted to learn to do as much of it as possible on their own.

As she neared the end of her pregnancy, Xi had grown increasingly miserable. She couldn’t move as fast as before. Her bump prevented her from certain tasks, her feet ached all the time, she could never find the right position to sleep in and quite frankly, she was just about ready for Sprout to move out.

Neteyam was another matter entirely.

Four weeks ago, Mo’at had instructed her that she was supposed to be taking it easy- an instruction her husband was all too eager and diligent in making happen…

He’d become increasingly overbearing and overprotective of her throughout her pregnancy. It seemed as if as her baby bump grew, so did his possessiveness.

He snapped at anyone who so much as breathed too much in her direction. It was probably worse than his clinginess back when she’d been rescued from Li’ona.

Suffice to say because of said behaviour, it was no surprise when he and the women of their family butted heads a few times.

Sal and Neytiri had to keep reminding him that pregnant women were tougher than they looked. He and D’avi also got into far too many bickering matches whenever he hovered and lingered during their “sisterly bonding dates”.

Kiri and Mo’at simply found Neteyam’s behaviour amusing- Xi was sure she’d never seen the grandmother so entertained before.

And when Xilä had finally met her twelve month mark- due date coming and going, there was no baby. She was a week overdue now and felt uncomfortably massive.

“Why doesn’t the baby want to come out,” she whined.

“You’ve made too good a home for your little one it seems,” Mo’at joked mildly as she ran her hands over the stretch of Xilä’s skin, fingers pressing down to feel the baby’s position. “We shall have to do some coaxing then, hm?”

“What kind of coaxing?” Neteyam asked quickly.

“Have her take a walk. She can try some char’mille tea, heavily spiced herb broth, perhaps a warm bath and sex.”

Xilä knew the list of suggestions, and yet even as the Tsahìk voiced the last one, her cheeks still tinged lightly. Her mate seemed unaffected though. He nodded seriously and asked his grandmother a couple other million questions- like he always did whenever they came in for a visit.

Is it normal that her boobs are already leaking milk?

When will they know for sure she’s in labor?

Do they need to wait until her waters break or until the contractions start before coming in?

How painful will the birth be for her?

Was there anything he could do to ease it?

Fingers interlocked and propped up on her bump, Xilä relaxed as best as possible while her husband went on and on with question after question.

Midway through their visit, he handed her a leaf wrapped snack that appeared from nowhere- some thinly sliced nectar coated meat placed between two sari cakes with mashed teylu and diced shrooms. Not the most appetizing thing to anyone else, but it was all she livid off of for the past week.

Xilä smiled at her husband’s attentiveness and dug in without needing to be told.

“And I know I’ve asked already, but are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for her during the birth?”

“Your role is to support her. The moment is all about her… and then all about her and the baby. She needs calm. You soothe and encourage her through it all. That’s it. If you can’t do that then you stay outside the birth room… Now, any other questions?”

“Yes. What-”

This boy! Mo’at huffed and shot Xilä a half amused, half frustrated expression. “Are you sure you want him to stay during the birth?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m-”

“I’m not asking you, ‘Teyam… Xilä?”

“I wouldn’t want him anywhere else,” she smiled.

They’d tried almost everything.

But no amount of tea, or broth, or walks or baths did anything to nudge their little Sprout out of her.

She was too uncomfortable for sex, so only when nothing else on the list worked and she was just about at her wits end, did she finally decide to give lovemaking a go.

“You’ll have to do all the work. I’m not moving a muscle,” she groaned.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

Xilä could cry. “Well we’re going to have to! I want the baby out already, ‘Teyam! I’m so uncomfortable. My skin feels stretched to its limit, my boobs feel like they’re about to explode. And there are parts of me that hurt, that I didn’t even know could hurt like this! I don’t want to do this anymore. Please- just please do something! And why are you standing so fucking far away?!”

Shit! “Alright hey, hey. I’m here, baby.” He climbed into their hammock beside her, sensing a mental breakdown. “Sweetheart-”

“This is not sex,” she frowned when he cuddled her into his arms.

He tried not to smile. “Let’s take a breather first, yeah?”

She nodded and blew out a gush of air. “I’m sor-”

“Stop,” he whispered against her lips. “Just relax, sweetheart.”

He hummed the little tune he’d started singing to Sprout whenever he got too rowdy while his large palm soothingly ran over the curve of her belly. He prepared her with tiny kisses wherever he could reach from his position and sent silent prayers to Eywa to ease her discomfort.

“‘Teyam.”

“Xi.”

“I have to pee… again.”

He kissed her forehead. “Okay. Let’s go.”

After helping her to her feet, they probably only made it a couple steps before Xilä stopped with a gasp. A gush of liquid escaped her- it coated her inner thighs and rolled over her calves and ankles as it fell to the floor.

“Was that-”

“My waters broke,” she said, staring dumbstruck at the puddle at her feet.

The room was too crowded.

Neteyam was itching to throw them all out and with every passing second, every glance towards anyone who wasn’t his wife, his patience grew thinner.

They were nearing the fifth hour since Xilä’s waters broke. Her contractions were slowly growing more frequent now, and it was killing him every time he saw another wave of pain hit her.

Seated between his raised thighs, he felt her body tense up again. She moaned through gritted teeth and desperately squeezed his forearms while the pain consumed her for a couple seconds too long for him, before her shoulders slumped and head fell backwards as she panted.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered against her temple.

She gave a shaky laugh in response.

“Do you want me to take over, ‘Teyam? You can go stretch your legs for a bit and-”

“No.” He winced at his tone and shot his mother-in-law an apologetic half smile. “Sorry. But no, I’m good, Sal. I’m not going anywhere.”

Five minutes later, his mother came and asked the same damn question.

Ten minutes after that, D’avi offered to sing Xilä a “calming song” she thought would help sooth her.

Neteyam knew it was their custom to have a “village” present for a birth… but this? This was too much.

Why couldn’t they wait outside with the men- as well as the shocking mass of clan members who’d shown up to give their support?

That damn song made him reach his limit.

The singing, combined with the not so soft chatter from Leati’ and Kah’lee seated in the corner of the tent, Sal and Neytiri’s bustling around the small private quarters Mo’at had set up for them as they made arrangements and Kiri and Mo’at’s ingredient tinkering- he’d had enough.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“How mad at me would you be if I kicked them all out?”

Her head moved against his shoulder.

“What? Who?”

Even with sweat slicked hair and heated flushed cheeks, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“All of them? Except grandmother of course.”

Xi turned and took in the room’s activities. Her stifled anxiety quickened so she quickly glanced away again.

“You can say no.”

“Honestly? It’s crowded. I won’t be upset if you ask them to leave,” she admitted. “I love them all and I’m glad they’re here to support us… but it’s just…”

“Overwhelming right?”

She nodded, feeling a wave of guilt consume her.

Reading her all too well, he brushed her jaw with his thumb. “There’s nothing to feel bad- or be sorry about. They’ll understand.”

Xi internally debated asking D’avi to stay. But if she was being honest with herself, she wanted this moment to be between her and mate.

“Wait”- she stopped him before he could move- “do it nicely, okay? I don’t want any of them to think they’re a problem.”

He kissed her neck and promised to be nice about kicking out everyone before he got up.

Sal looked ready to put up a fight with him but with one glance at her daughter who Mo’at was helping through another contraction, she relented.

The women understood- thankfully.

Both mothers showered Xilä with kisses before they left and assured they’d be a call away and just in the next room giving up prayers of their own.

In the quiet dim space, Mo’at’s chats shifted in waves of highs and lows. Xilä’s wails however, overshadowed them.

“No more. No I can’t. I CAN’T do thi-” Xilä broke off into another cry that Neteyam helplessly tried to sooth.

“Xilä, breathe.” Mo’at patted her thigh and waved another round of spiced smoke from a lit herb bundle.

“‘Teyam,” she whimpered through never-ending tears, breathing heavily in pants she fought to control.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He brushed away the stubborn strands of hair that kept getting stuck to her forehead. “You’re doing so good. Almost there, baby.”

Her chin wobbled and she licked her chapped lips.

“Tell me what to do for you. What can I do?” We wished he had the power to take away her pain.

“Tell me a story?”

He couldn’t help the breathy chuckle that escaped him. It had been a while since she’d asked for one of those. Lips to her temple, he tasted salt. “What kind, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. Any? I just need to hear your voice. Please?”

“Okay, I got you,” he soothed. “I’ll tell you about the one that changed my life, yeah?”

Her head fell forward when another contraction rolled in- back arching away from him. Her fingers bit into the flesh of his thighs that bracketed her own. His palms ran over her sweat slick skin- shoulders, arms and the backs of her hands whilst soft cooed words fell from his lips.

Only when it was over and she sagged against him- fatigue dripping heavily with another plea for him to talk, did he start his story.

“It all started on what I thought was a random day of the worst year of my life. Nothing was going right and so much was weighing heavily on me. I decided I needed to get away for a couple day, so I went on a solo hunting trip to blow off some steam.”

He ducked to check on her. Her eyelids half closed while she stifled a whimper.

“I caught nothing though, couldn’t focus- I kept missing my shots. On my last day, after catching nothing again, I was just about to head back home when a woodspirit distracted me. And then I heard a sudden scream- a gut wrenching and skin chilling one at that. So I followed it and I found this odd little cloaked thing running from a nantang. They tried to climb a tree to escape, but they slipped, and fell.”

Xilä’s heart thudded in her eardrums… She knew this story.

“Anyway, after I took care of the beast, I approached the hooded and masked stranger. They blinked up at me for a second, with- with the most incredible eyes I’d ever seen, before they blacked out. And when I pulled the mask away”- he made an approving pleased sound- “the stranger? Prettiest thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.”

Mo’at’s chants grew quieter as she continued to waft smoke in Xi’s direction- it helped her calm somewhat.

“Anyway, I didn’t know it at the time, but I made the best decision of my life by taking her home with me… After an order from my dad, I had no choice but to spend time with this gorgeous creature every day, and you know what?”

Xi’s eyes closed. “What?”

“It was pure torture,” he whispered in her ear, making her snicker with a moaned wince.

“So then what happened?”

Neteyam bent and nuzzled her cheek, palm coming to rest on her stomach. “So, then I fell in love with her… and by some miracle she loved me right back.”

“And then?”

“And then I claimed her as mine, and she claimed me as hers… can you believe that? She became my mate. Mine.”

Xi peered up at him- pure love and adoration shining through her pain stricken face. “And then?”

He wiped the tear rolling down her cheekbone. “No… and now… and forever.”

“Xilä,” Mo’at called. “It’s time to push.”

“‘Teyam… can’t-”

“Shhh. Come on baby, what am I always telling you? Hm? You’re strong- you can do anything.”

“It hurts,” she whimpered.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. Lean on me, sweetheart, I got you.”

Their baby came into the world with a hearty cry. Wails almost deafening but Neteyam laughed in glee- eyes prickling at the sight of the tiny wrinkly blue creature Mo’at placed on Xilä’s bare chest.

A boy. A son.

“Neteyam- oh ‘Teyam, look at him. He’s-” Xi grinned through her tears- pain forgotten, “he’s perfect.”

Neteyam couldn’t keep his eyes off of their little Sprout. “Holy shit.” He was here- their baby- their son.

Arms over Xi’s he gently cradled his baby’s head. “So much hair,” he marvelled.

“It’s dark like yours, handsome.” Xi couldn’t move her eyes away- too busy trying to absorb every single detail.

Index finger extended, Neteyam touched his son’s palm, and when his teeny tiny fingers closed over the digit, his heart melted.

Their son’s cries turned to whimpers as Xi soothed him and he looked almost annoyed as he blinked up at them through half opened eyes before they closed again.

“Hi precious, I’m your mama. Hi, aren’t you the sweetest.”

“I think he’s got your eyes, baby. I caught a flash of silver.”

Xi took a damp cloth from Mo’at and began to clean their son- removing away as much of the waxy type substance that coated his skin.

Mo’at eventually took over after ensuring Xi was taken care of. The elder handled their baby with expertise. He began to fuss while she checked him over- gums, tiny tail, pointed ears and queue.

The grandmother failed to hide her sniffle and misty eyes, voice soft in her whispered prayers to Eywa.

“He’s okay?” Neteyam was itching to have their baby back.

“Perfect. A healthy baby boy.” She handed the crying infant back to his mother and he instantly quieted. She gently cupped Xi’s cheek. “You were amazing, darling. Congratulations to you two.”

“Thank you, grandmother. For everything. Thank you.”

Little Sprout gave an unhappy coo, and like a natural, Xi arranged him in her arms and helped him find her nipple. It took a couple tries and whispered coaxing but the instant he latched, he was hungrily suckling.

Neteyam stared at the two of them, entranced and amazed- unaware when his grandmother snuck out to share the news with the rest of their family.

He kissed his wife’s temple, with whispered words of praise- telling her how proud he was of her. She met his lips with hers for a brief moment and with her own I love you’s.

After she shifted their baby to her other breast and he had his fill, she gently burped him, cooing a soft good job when he did.

“Ready to hold him, handsome?”

He nodded eagerly and shuffled out from behind Xilä, accepting hands comically larger in comparison to their infant.

Was it possible to love someone wholeheartedly after knowing them for less than an hour?

His mate was right, their son was perfect.

Nestled in the crook of his arms, their baby yawned, tiny fists clenched against his cheeks, knees drawn up against his tummy.

Neteyam’s heart could burst. Happiness consumed him.

“He looks just like you. Just like his daddy.”

The resemblance was startling, he thought. A mini him.

Xi peered at the second love of her life, head resting against her husband's bicep. “I don’t think any of the names we picked out suits him, and as much as I think it’s a cute nickname, I’m not calling our son Sprout.”

“You’re right… we’ll figure it out though.” He kissed the top of her head. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Do you ache?”

She nodded, fingers gently touching her son’s tiny toes, they twitched and Xi thought she’d just about burst into tears. “Yes, but I can bear it. I can’t believe our baby’s here with us now. I’m so happy, ‘Teyam, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Me too.”

Sprout shifted and made a soft noise in his sleep before settling- tail giving a slight flick against Neteyam’s hand. He truly couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Our families’ are going to go crazy, they’re gonna love him. They’re probably going mad over waiting so long as well,” he joked.

“Let them wait,” Xi sighed, the pad of her thumb tracing a delicately soft cheek. “Let’s just be together a little longer, yeah?”

Neteyam smiled in agreement. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

This chapter was soooo difficult to write & edit, I hope you all enjoyed it anyway!

First things first, yes, that was the last chapter- but WAIT. There will be a two-part epilogue. One- a slice of life after the birth of little Sprout and Two- a couple years after that.

PS. I still haven't settled 100% on a name for Sprout, so you can still send suggestions. Also, for girl names too (since they may or may not have another baby/babies in the epilogue).... (Who am I kidding, of course they will) LOL!

Okay, now cue the waterworks...

Thank you, THANK YOU to everyone of you who've followed me on this journey. Safe Haven is so special to me and I have enjoyed sharing it with you all.

Every read, every like, every comment, every suggestion and idea- just know I appreciate them all!

This community has been so welcoming and the response to a newbie writer like myself is profound.

As always, please share your thoughts :)

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

144 notes · View notes