This caught me by surprise but today’s my one year anniversary of the first time I watched & Juliet!
This show has been everything to me for the past 365 days. It doesn’t feel so long ago that I was taking the subway and listening to the soundtrack for the first time, but here we are. If it hadn’t been for this show, I never would’ve made so many amazing friends on here *takes deep breath* @writingnotes520 @thenepticmancer @kittycatsfromzolar @montygatorguy @swanny-draws @livieloulou @pixcmint & @pillow-chicken I love all of you and I’m so glad that this show brought me to all of you. The friendships I’ve made over the past year are some of my absolute favorites and I’m so so grateful for each and every one of you.
& Juliet also brought me into a wonderful world of cosplay and performance that I’ve never seen before. (Kudos to @graymatterwithacomplex for being the cashier to my Shakespeare and for putting up with my obsession <3 love ya). When I finally get to do “Problem/Can’t Feel My Face” bitches you KNOW imma be posting it!
Without & Juliet I never would’ve gotten back into writing. Without the constant support from Ver’s story; the love I got from As I Grow Up Without You, I Miss It, I Miss You; and Come What May; I don’t know what would’ve fueled me through the worst days. I started CWM whilst in the trenches of the worst mental health and it not only pulled me out of said trenches it also lifted me up to some of the best times of my life. I've never written more in my life than that spring break and I have the callouses to prove it.
EDIT: Tumblr ate the rest of this post which is depressing bc it was beautiful. TLDR for what it ate; I wouldn't be a guy without & Juliet either. Happy &J-iversary to me!
Soup, Salad, Sandwich, Steak, or Ravioli - Kyrell x Reader
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Slice of Life, Established Relationship, Kyrell x GN!Reader
Summary: Kyrell starts a petty argument with you. The topic? Whether cereal is soup. It’s Day 5 of the cereal-soup war. Kyrell has a slideshow. Brian is on FaceTime. Y/N is losing their mind.
Word Count: 777 (yooooo)
A/N: KYRELL MY BELOVEDDDDDD <33333 Anyways Ky is my ult bias so I hope you enjoy!!! He's so silly
Also, Woonhak friends-to-lovers is next!! I'll hopefully have my Changbin and Riwoo rough drafts finished and proofread to post! Love you and thank you so much for the love on my Han fic!!!
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“Okay, but just… Hear me out— baked beans are a soup.”
Y/N blinked at the screen, then at Kyrell, then back at the screen again. He stood a few feet away in dramatic presentation mode, one hand gesturing to his ‘incredibly high-quality and well-planned’ slideshow, and the other clutching a bowl of dry Froot Loops like a prop he’d forgotten to use.
It was Wednesday night.
The cereal debacle had begun on Saturday.
“Baked beans,” Y/N repeated slowly, dragging their gaze across the bold red Comic Sans header on the slide that read:
‘Soup, Salad, Sandwich, Steak, or Ravioli: A Culinary Framework.’
“Soup,” Kyrell said, nodding solemnly. “Liquid base. Many little things in the base. Spoon-optimized.”
Kyrell clicked to the next slide with the same flair of a magician revealing a dove hiding in his hat. A Venn diagram appeared, labeled ‘Stew vs. Soup: The Continuum.’
“Welcome to the gray zone,” he said, circling the overlapping area with a laser pointer he seemingly spawned out of nowhere. “It’s not about broth. It’s about intent.”
Y/N opened their mouth. Closed it. Thought about standing up and walking into the ocean.
“You’re actually, like… clinically insane.”
“You say that,” Kyrell replied, grinning as he picked up the remote again, “but I know you’ll think the ravioli slide is good.”
They hated that he was right. The ravioli slide had been especially unhinged: dumplings, calzones, jelly donuts, gyoza, pierogies, toaster strudels— he’d even argued that a Pop-Tart was a ravioli, and that an Uncrustable was the ‘perfect ravioli-sandwich hybrid, but technically a ravioli.’
“You put mini quiches under sandwich.”
“Partially enclosed in carb. Filling. Boom.”
“You need help. Like, professional help.”
Kyrell gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “Excuse you! I have a system! This is science!”
“It’s not science. It’s you deciding to ruin food forever.”
As if summoned by the devil himself, Kyrell’s phone buzzed. A FaceTime call. He didn’t even check the name before answering.
“Brian!” he shouted, flipping the screen toward Y/N like he’d just brought an expert witness to the stand in court. “Tell them what you told me about salads!”
Brian looked… disturbingly pleased to be involved in this, in Y/N’s personal nightmare. “Right. Okay. So. Anything with multiple components that aren’t homogenous? Salad.”
Y/N gave the screen a flat stare. “You mean… like… trail mix is a salad?”
“Yup,” Brian confirmed.
“Pasta?”
“Soup.”
“Granola bars?”
Brian paused. He had to think on that one. “Compressed salad.”
Kyrell beamed. “See? It tracks!”
“No, what tracks is that neither of you have any concept of categories or rules or basic human decency.”
“Is a hotdog a sandwich?” Kyrell prompted.
Brian nodded. “Folded sandwich. Same genus as tacos.”
Y/N let their head fall into their hands, groaning.
Kyrell clicked ahead in his slideshow. More examples appeared— photos of ‘open-faced sandwiches’ (aka pizza), ‘steaks’ like a whole roasted carrot, and a lone boiled potato labeled:
‘Steak: Idaho Edition’
They looked back up at him, arms crossed. Unimpressed. “Why are you like this?”
Kyrell didn’t answer right away. He just smiled— big and proud and so annoyingly sure of himself— and moved to sit beside them, tucking one leg under the other like this was a casual podcast before bed.
“Because you love me,” he said, bumping his shoulder into theirs. “And because you keep listening to me explain why everything we could ever possibly eat can be categorized into five things.”
Y/N shook their head, but they couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
“You know this means full-on war, right? I will find something that doesn’t fit, even if it kills me.”
“You won’t,” Kyrell said smugly.
“You’re gonna regret saying that.”
“I never regret anything. Except maybe trusting Brian to explain the salad rule. He left out milk and cookies.”
Y/N froze. “Don’t you dare—”
“Deconstructed dessert soup,” Kyrell whispered.
Brian cackled from the phone speaker. “I trained him well.”
“End the call,” Y/N deadpanned.
Kyrell hung up with a grin, tossing his phone to the side table and grabbing the cereal bowl again. He didn’t even eat it— just held it like it was proof.
Y/N leaned their head back against the couch and sighed. “So what’s next? You’re gonna tell me spaghetti is salad?”
“No,” Kyrell said, spooning some cereal into his mouth.
Then, after a thoughtful pause: “… I already told you it was a soup, dork.”
Y/N groaned, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him.
“Worth it,” Kyrell mumbled through a mouthful of dry cereal.
